Grindhouse opens tomorrow -- and at least one Little Lebowski here is hungering for it like an old-time trip to a drive-in picture show.
C'mon, you remember.
It was dollar carload night. You'd get all the guys in your class together, throw a few of them in the trunk, hide a few under blankets in the floorboards and then spend the rest of the night trying to land a date in the dark. It was fun.
Now, years later, I realize what I missed. Instead of watching worn celluloid classics like Grave of the Vampire, The Muthers or Death Rage, we were out trying to let the air out of tires or sneak off with free refills at the snack bar. At the time, I knew those double-features were cool (I liked the Bruce Lee previews), but I really took them for granted ... too busy being a dumb kid.
Now, writer/directors Quentin Tarantino and Robert Rodriguez have given us a second chance with Grindhouse. Rodriguez's half is a zombie flick, Planet Terror. Tarantino's half is a slasher film, Death Proof. You've seen the trailers.
Their vision might be a little more edgy than the classics. I mean, in the classic versions, I don't recall any girl with an assault gun attached to her amputated leg, but I could have been unloading some pals from the trunk at the time.
For sure, I'm paying attention this time around.
-- Tommy Cummings | email@example.com