It takes a man of true conviction to admit that one of the most noxious, contemptable people in the public forum has created a work of genius. I hate Quentin Tarantino. If I read of his disappearance tomorrow I’d dance for joy. Just the other day Ann had a thing on IFC with some press conference with him and I demanded she change the channel before I throw up. Still, if you haven’t seen this movie in a while (last time for me, I think, was 1999) it still is fucking incredible. Every scene is a gem. Samuel L. Jackson’s performance is note perfect. The surf guitar rock is some of the most inspired soundtrack use in cinema history. And the scene with the gimp is just insane. Like Eddie Van Halen, another genius that inspired legions of odious imitators, it is easy to blame Quentin for the god-awful hackwork so many other people turned in after this was made. But let’s call a spade a spade: Pulp Fiction was wild and innovative ten years ago and it has not aged a day. It is fantastic, so much so that for a minute I was thinking I might eventually rent Kill Bill Volume II.