Reservoir Dogs

I only recently saw Quentin Tarantino's first film Reservoir Dogs. More focused than most of his movies (but by no means a tight narrative, this being Tarantino), Dogs follows a group of criminals. The story slowly unfolds, using flashbacks to tell the audience important--or just diverting--information. All we know for sure is that a heist went terribly wrong. 

The men only know one another's code names. The shrewd (or paranoid) Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi) suspects there was a betrayal, but Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) lives by an older creed, and finds it difficult to imagine that any of the men he worked with are less than "honorable." Mr. Orange (Tim Roth) has been shot and will bleed to death if he doesn't get medical attention. The rest have either died or scattered. 

Needless to say, the movie includes trademark graphic violence, artful cinematography, and moments of pathos. Scenes are long and self-conscious, full of dialogue both relevant and random. The recognizable cast fit their roles perfectly, from Michael Madsen as the crazy Mr. Blonde to Chris Penn as Nice Guy Eddie, son of big shot Joe Cabot (Lawrence Tierney). While they are all varying degrees of lowlifes, make no mistake, they have no problem murdering policemen or people who get in their way. Yet several appear to hold genuine, even tragic, affection for another comrade.

Reservoir Dogs is recommended viewing for Tarantino fans and one of his funniest and most emotional pieces.

The Devastating War Zone

Tom (Freddie Cunliffe) is an adolescent, which means he is as internally tumultuous as Devon’s weather. He and his family have transferred from London to an isolated country house near the sea. His pregnant mother (Tilda Swinton) quietly misses London, but his father (Ray Winstone) and older sister Jessie (Lara Belmont) stay occupied with work and college searches. The family spends their days trudging through rain or cozying up at home. They hardly notice when Tom, already sullen, discovers something that shakes him into near silence.

The War Zone (based on a book by Alexander Stuart) depicts a situation that is theoretically simple and in actuality anything but. Told from the perspective not of a knowing outsider but of innocence as it is being lost, Tim Roth’s directorial debut is uniquely powerful. Its most appalling moments are justified, even crucial.

The camera lingers on small figures surrounded by green and gray and pummeled by the elements. The ocean’s rhythmic violence and the setting’s physical remoteness clearly reflect the family’s emotional trials. The repetitive, sometimes sentimental soundtrack is still effective.

Tom’s impenetrability ultimately works, but Cunliffe’s lack of expressions is off-putting in comparison to Belmont’s harrowing performance as Jessie. Thespians Swinton and Winstone are understated and excellent as the parents. The sparse, mumbled dialogue is naturalistic if occasionally heavy handed (and difficult for Americans to understand).

The film offers no explanations and leaves on an ambiguous note, forcing viewers to identify with its tender protagonists. In spite of its bleak portrayal of youth overwhelmed by confusion, The War Zone has changed lives. Realistic in a way few movies are, its very existence dispels myths, fosters sympathy, and inspires confessions. The film’s flaws do not detract from its rare significance.