Plot Details: This opinion reveals minor details about the movie's plot.

What up, my brothas! Welcome to my Black Christmas (and I don't mean Q'Uanz'hah, or whatever the hell it is) write off. Come celebrate the best and worst of hard hitting, hard lovin', two fisted, no nonsense blaxploitation flicks ever offered by Hollywood (and of course from outside the studio system, too). The sleazy, the exploitative, the classics, the forgotten and the crap - all examined over the 12 days of Christmas. However, with this comes a disclaimer:

WARNING! Absolutely no one under 18 admitted to this review!

No, seriously. While I keep in mind that impressionable youngsters can wander by epinions and normally try mind my manners appropriately, there's no point in being polite when discussing movies like these. Salty language may and will creep in from time to time.

And with that, on to JACKIE BROWN! Can you dig it?

Blacksploitation film? Not exactly, but Tarantino loves to pay homage to the films of his youth, so what we get emulates the style, mood and funk of the seventies pretty closely. We'll call it good this one time.

The story goes something like this: Ordell Robbie (Sammy "I was born to play Shaft" Jackson) sells black market guns. Ordell uses Jackie Brown (the still sexy after all these years Pam Grier) to smuggle his money back into the states from Mexico. One of Ordell's employees is busted and gives up Jackie to the ATF. The cops use Jackie to entrap Ordell when he brings in the half a million bucks that he intends to retire on. Jackie gets the idea to shake the feds, steal Ordell's money and escape her dead end airline stewardess job once and for all. Of course being a Quentin Tarantino film, everyone is double and triple crossing each other and nothing goes down exactly as planned. . . . .

Adapted from an Elmore Leonard novel, Jackie Brown started out life called Rum Punch, which probably didn’t have all the blacksploitation overtones to it at all. If you've seen any of Tarantino's other films, you know exactly what you expect to see here lots of slick style, a dark sense of humor, some violence and a kicking soundtrack.

Of course the big problem with the movie - with ALL of his movies, in fact - is Tarantino himself; he is his own worst enemy. The man just does not know when to shut the hell up. The movie is brutally overlong and really starts to drag during the set up leading to the Big Screw Job at the end. As I watched, the editor in me kept thinking of long scenes and whole characters that could have easily been eliminated that would move the story faster and better. Sure Tarantino has an ability to create clever yet realistic dialogue, but he just likes the sound of his own voice too much.

So, it's bloated and moves at a glacier's pace. What was right with the movie?

Pam Grier, for starters. She's a goddess of exploitation films even under the worst of conditions, but she really takes the role and runs with it. Sadly Pam's career didn’t get the shot in the arm that Travolta did with Pulp Fiction - and that's a damn shame. And of course there's Samuel Jackson, who could read the phone book and make it interesting. And De Niro, despite being one of those characters that didn’t actually do anything until the very end of the film, delivered a rock solid performance. His bits with Brigitte Fonda where she eventually pisses him off (with hilarious consequences) were some of the best bits of the film.

But I'd be remiss without mentioning Robert Forster, as the bored-but-genial bail bondsman Max Cherry. He can be funny, ponderous, relaxed, and scared-silly without hamming it up or saying a word.

Oh, and the soundtrack kicks. Bobby Womack, the Delfonics, the Guess Who, and Johnny Cash all emulate the 70's funk soul style of Black cinema dead on. Well, not so much Johnny Cash - but he rocks so much that I can't leave him off the kudos for the soundtrack.

The movie has style, I'll give it that. It's clear that Quentin grew up much like I did, watching horror movies on the fuzzy UHF stations late Saturday night, sneaking into badly dubbed Shaw Brothers Kung Fu flicks at the local theater in the bad parts of town, and begging his mom to take him to see the latest Roger Corman schlock or offering from American International Pictures at the drive-in once a month. His love for seventies exploitation movies is clear in every frame of this film (and pretty much every film he's ever made). Thing is, Jackie Brown is *just* good enough to make you wish it were much better.

RUDY RAY MOORE OR PAM GRIER? Yes
BREASTS ON DISPLAY: 0 (although Quentin gets his foot fetish shot, but it doesn't count)
A BRUTHA GETS SOME: 0 times (although a white guy gets some - but that doesn’t count either)
MUSICAL NUMBERS: 1/2
EXPLOSIONS: 0
ROUNDS FIRED: 4
HANDRAIL DEATHS: 0
CAR CHASES: 0
AFROS: 0
F BOMBS DROPPED: 300 (at least)
WHITEYS THAT GET IT: 1
BEST LINE: Jesus, but if you two are not the biggest pair of fuck-ups I've ever met in my entire life. How did you ever rob a bank? When you robbed banks, did you forget where your car was then too? No wonder you went to jail.
SEVENTIES FASHION SENSIBILITIES: 0%
SOUL POWER 12%

THE DVD -
It took several years from theatrical run to DVD release, but we get “Jackie Brown” as a slick looking digitally mastered anamorphic widescreen disc. Of the few I've watched, this is probably the smoothest looking Tarantino film, with little visible grain, good color saturation, and some nice contrast.

THE EXTRAS -
Much like the Doctor Who DVDs, there's a subtitle track with trivia, anecdotes, and facts behind the stars, filmmakers, and whatnot. There's a smug "look how cool I am" 60-ish second introduction by Quentin Tarantino and some DVD-ROM stuff a screenplay viewer, filmographies, reviews and articles.

Not bad, but disc two is where the meat is. There's a 39-minute documentary where Quentin goes on about how cool and perfect everyone is in one of those smug back slapping self-congratulatory ways. Probably the best bit of the disc: 12 Robert Forster film trailers and 19 Pam Grier film trailers, including such classics as Black Momma, White Momma and Scream Blacula Scream. We get Chicks in Prison trailers, Black Private Dick trailers, Black Momma Revenge trailers. Utterly perfect schlock! Then there's some alternate and deleted scenes, the full Chicks With Guns short, the review from Siskel & Ebert, some MTV spots, and some this and some of that.

All in all, it's a pretty comprehensive package.

THE BOTTOM LINE -
It's overly long and drags in parts, but it's just entertaining enough to carry the day. It falls just short enough of the mark to be truly frustrating, making you realize that in the hands of a strong editor this could have been a really kick ass flick.

ON THE TWELVE DAYS OF BLACK CHRISTMAS, MY SOUL BRUTHAS GAVE TO ME. . . .
12) BLACULA
11) JACKIE BROWN
10) THE FINAL COMEDOWN
09) SHAFT IN AFRICA
08) UNDERCOVER BROTHER
07) DOLEMITE
06) BLACK MAMA, WHITE MAMA
05) MEAN JOHHNY BARROWS
04) TROUBLE MAN
03) SUPERFLY
02) THE MACK
And a LADY COCOA in a pear tree. . . .



Recommended: No

Viewing Format: DVD
Video Occasion: Fit for Friday Evening
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age