Crime Week: Reservoir Dogs (Heists)

Quentin Tarantino has something of a longstanding association with crime, one that goes back to his first feature film Reservoir Dogs. While this low-budget early film displays a lot of the trademarks that easily define Tarantino's later films, such as the rapid-fire dialogue and non-linear storytelling, it often stands out due to the curious way he approaches its subject matter. The story centres around a botched heist, specifically an organized attempt to steal diamonds which does not go quite as planned because one of the people involved is an undercover cop. Tarantino's approach to making a heist film, however remains somewhat unusual.

In the hands of any other director, the plot would likely be much more linear. Most likely, the heist would be the climax of the film. The story would focus on Joe (Lawrence Tierney) finding out about the diamonds and his efforts to recruit a team of professionals to pull off the heist, as well as their efforts to learn about the bank's security systems and to devise the appropriate countermeasures for each. Then at the climax, the actual heist would be shown, where the viewer would see how everything comes together. Then it might be played as a twist when the cops turn out to be ready for them, with the ending focusing on the attempted getaway that leads to them double-crossing each other and everything falling apart. This would be a conventional narrative for a heist film.

Instead, Tarantino opts for something very different. He begins the movie just before the heist is to occur, and then moves straight into its immediate aftermath. In fact, the heist itself goes entirely unseen. All information about what happened comes from what is described by the characters afterwards, many of whom have conflicting accounts of the precise chain of events such as when the cops showed up. Tarantino could have made Reservoir Dogs a more conventional heist film, but he chose not to because he was not interested in the heist itself. What he was clearly more interested in is the characters and their interactions. 

The cast is in general very minimalist, with few other characters besides the central thieves. This group contains a total of six men: Mr. White (Harvey Keitel), Mr. Orange (Tim Roth), Mr. Brown (Quentin Tarantino), Mr. Blonde (Michael Madsen), Mr. Pink (Steve Buschemi), and Mr. Blue (Eddie Bunker), as well as their employers Joe Cabot (Lawrence Tierney) and "Nice Guy" Eddie (Chris Penn). Most of the film focuses purely on these individuals. Their association is also marked by the choice of wardrobe: all six of the thieves wear an identical suit, with slicked-back hair and similar pairs of sunglasses. 

This wardrobe serves to mark their association with one another. The only ones to deviate from this pattern are Joe and Eddie, both of whom are dressed casually. This creates an obvious contrast between the two different levels of the crime business, and separates the employers from those who are actually performing the theft. However, this is also deconstructed as the movie progresses. After the heist, each of the characters begin to shed parts of their uniform. The sunglasses come off almost immediately, hair becomes messy, and suits become dirty, torn, or altered (such as Mr. Blonde removing his jacket). These changes give each man a more distinct appearance, and with it a distinct personality.

There are next to no female characters in Reservoir Dogs, which may seem like a strange move given Tarantino's later films, and only one black character in a supporting role (Randy Brooks). The only women who make an appearance are the girl Mr. Pink pulls out of her car and the woman who shoots Mr. Orange (Tarantino actually shot a scene with a female cop, but it was removed because he felt it revealed too much about Mr. White too early). Of course, only six of the responding officers are actually seen: Marvin Nash (Kirk Baltz), the three who chase Mr. Pink, and the two that are shot by Mr. White. Considering that it was heavily implied that there were a bunch of other cops besides these, it is entirely possible that there were female officers present offscreen. 

This may not be totally unjustified, however, as it fits the personalities of the main characters. These guys are anti-heroes, and are hardly treated as nice people. Joe in particular is shown to be a very old-fashioned criminal, and makes several remarks that indicate he is racist, sexist, and homophobic, and the others are not much better. At one point, Mr. Pink outright states that black and white women "ain't the same" and relies on stereotypes to justify this. The film even draws attention to this at times, with details such as Mr. White's anecdote about working with "Alabama" (who according to him is an exceptional thief), not to mention that the woman confronted by Mr. White and Mr. Orange actually makes an effort to defend herself (and ends up shooting the latter). 

It is likely that Joe, being a closed-minded old man, simply would not hire a woman. This would be consistent with much of the rest of the film, which highlights flaws in the criminal lifestyle. Joe is not exactly an effective planner. He is stubborn and refuses to accept any way other than his own (as is shown when he refuses to refer to Mr. Pink as anything other than his assigned nickname). This was after all the same guy who considered a complete psycho to be a good addition to the team, and the other guys involved do not exactly fit together.

This is established in the film's opening scene, where the thieves are eating breakfast and talking. This particular moment establishes each of the central characters through their dialogue. This particular scene marks the only appearance of Mr. Blue, and is one of only two scenes (not including the credits) to show Mr. Brown. Neither of these two are given a huge amount of focus. Mr. Blue only speaks two lines in the entire scene, while Mr. Brown is given a supporting role in the conversation. Both of these men die during the heist, so by reducing their role, Tarantino is singling out the four who will be given the most focus: Mr. White, Mr. Orange, Mr. Pink, and Mr. Blonde.

During this scene, Joe remains distracted from the other guys. While most of them engage in a discussion about the sexual themes of pop music, Joe spends the entire time going through an old address book he apparently found. He seems to be more concerned with remembering the names he finds in the aforementioned book than the heist he is supposed to overseeing later. Mr. White, is quick to recognize this and takes the book. Mr. White is starting to show a sense of responsibility, as he feels the group is disorganized. He even comments on how he feels he is hearing two separate conversations, foreshadowing the inevitable incompatibility of the group. Joe simply responds by stubbornly asking for his book to be returned. This exchange alone is setting up aspects of both characters: Joe's stubbornness and the responsibility Mr. White claims trying to keep everyone organized and looking after Mr. Orange.

Mr. Orange remains very quiet during this scene. This makes sense, foreshadowing his role as the undercover cop, or the odd man out. When Mr. White takes Joe's book, Mr. Blonde jokingly offers to shoot the former. Not only does this foreshadow Blonde's role as a psychopath, but the fact that he directly asks Joe also alludes to the close relationship between them that is later revealed. Mr. Pink then refuses to contribute to the waitress's tip, an act which angers the other guys. When Mr. Pink explains it, there is a cold logic to his reasoning. He makes a perfectly valid point when he comments on how society expects some people to get tips and others not to. This sets up his attitude after the heist, when he is the first person to figure out that one of his partners was a cop and tries to figure out logically who it was.

This scene also establishes an interesting motif that recurs throughout the film, especially in the scenes set prior to the heist. This group of people is acting very casual. They are discussing popular music for much of it, not to mention everybody gets mad at Mr. Pink for refusing to tip the waitress. It would appear less like a robbery and more like a group of office workers going to lunch. Crime is treated as a workplace. The suits worn by the thieves even look like something they would wear to an office.

Two of the flashback sequences, those of Mr. White and Mr. Blonde, both play out very much like job interviews, with them each being seated in Joe's office and questioned about their most recent experiences. Mr. Orange even mentions getting a "reference" to convince Joe that he was a good thief. The planning sequence that is shown is basically organized as a seminar. Joe stands at the front of the room dressed in a business suit and displays charts illustrating his business plan. All these details go to emphasize one simple idea: that while these guys might not be the most pleasant of individuals, in the end they are all just doing their job.

Still, there is that final idea that crime doesn't pay. Everything comes down on top of the main characters in the end. Ultimately, their undoing is that the thieves are incompatible and unable to work together. They are all interested only in their own ends. Mr. White is too concerned about Mr. Orange, Mr. Pink is too determined to find the undercover cop, and Mr. Blonde's psychotic tendencies not only endanger his partners during the heist, but also causes distrust from Mr. White. All of the men are wrapped in their own perspectives so much that when Joe finally does show up, the thieves end up shooting each other before the cops can get to them.

It is fitting that Mr. Pink is the one person to avoid getting shot, being the one person rational enough to stay out of the Mexican Stand-off. He then makes the seemingly logical choice of taking the diamonds (which he might still be able to make money off of and thus get something out of all this), though he is presumably caught when the police show up moments later. The only other possible survivors are Mr. Orange and Mr. White, both of whom are badly injured (the film ends with a final gunshot, though it is hard to tell precisely who fired it and where). Mr. White is then faced with the ironic reveal that the man he has tried to protect and comfort the whole time was in fact the undercover cop.

In the final moments, a group of police officers break into the warehouse offscreen. Only their voices are heard, so it is unclear how many are present. The voices heard are all male, though given how many cops were implied to be involved in this operation, it is not unlikely that there are female officers present outside. What makes this scene curious is the ambiguity of the ending. Tarantino could have shown the cops entering, but instead he focuses purely on Mr. White's face and his reaction. There is final gunshot, but the audience is left to question where it came from and who was hit. Mr. White is seen collapsing, but this could be just from his injuries.

Once again, this ties into the simple idea that Tarantino is not interested in the heist itself. In another filmmaker's hands, the central plot of Reservoir Dogs would only make up the final act of the film, after the heist has been shown. There would be a shot of a group of cops entering the building and surrounding Mr. White (or possibly shooting him when he refuses to put down his gun, but it would be a lot more obvious). This would make sense; one normally watches a conventional heist film with an interest in seeing how the heist is pulled off, but Reservoir Dogs is not a conventional heist movie.

Tarantino is not so much interested in the heist itself as he is in the people involved. It is a character study, an attempt to get into the minds of the criminals. The actual crime is irrelevant. Tarantino could have said anything about what the protagonists were trying to do. The diamonds have almost nothing to do with the overall story. It is all about how the main characters play off of each other, and the mounting tensions that ultimately lead to their undoing. This is why Reservoir Dogs stands out among crime films.

Rookie Blue

It should come as no surprise that I'm a fan of Kathryn Bigelow, and I'm always interested in seeing her films when I get a chance. Ever since I first saw The Hurt Locker I have tried to collect her movies. When I heard about her film Blue Steel through my action cinema class I quickly became interested in it. One of my favorite female directors made a movie about a tough female cop? How could I resist? Before long, interest turned into a desire to see this film, and desire became an obsession. Next thing I knew I had to find this movie. I combed every potential channel I could find. I checked countless video stores (some more than once) as well as Netflix and HBO on Demand to know avail. It seemed like this film was impossible to find.

Over the last few months my desire grew increasingly to the point where it was starting to drive me insane. Every time I wandered into a video store all I could think about was finding a copy of Blue Steel. I was not even sure if it was going to be worth it but something kept compelling me to search for this particular film no matter how futile it proved. Then finally this morning I had a new idea; check out the media commons library on campus (which happens to have a huge selection of films). Turns out they did in fact have it all this time (on both DVD and video cassette) and I was able to check it out. Of course I'll have to return it, but I finally managed to fulfill my desire to see this early film from the director of The Hurt Locker. So after spending half a year relentlessly combing every shelf of any store that had DVDs for this one film that seemed impossible, was it worth it? Oh yes, it was.

Megan Turner (Jamie Lee Curtis) is a tough woman who has just graduated to becoming a recognized officer of the New York Police Department. She is a woman who has proven that she can hold her own in a male-dominated profession (this being a major theme throughout). Unfortunately, things are cut short on her first night as a cop when she finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time: witnessing a convenience store robbery in progress. Naturally she tries to interfere and has to shoot the perpetrator. However, one of the hostages, a strange fellow by the name of Eugene Hunt (Ron Silver) steels the perpetrator's gun and escapes the crime scene, leaving Turner to be accused of police brutality and suspended.

Hunt turns out to be a deranged lunatic who also becomes obsessed with Turner, going as far as to carve her name into bullets and fire on random pedestrians using the gun from the crime scene. Turner then finds herself in a brief romantic relationship with Hunt, only to end up in a violent cat and mouse chase as he attempts to manipulate her, framing her as a Dirty Harry-esque rogue cop who doesn't play by the rules. Now it is up to Turner to figure out how to expose Hunt for the monster he is and bring an end to his reign of terror.

I should probably point out that Blue Steel isn't exactly a typical action movie, though it certainly draws inspiration from some. There is definitely some inspiration from Dirty Harry (especially evident in the relationship between Turner and Hunt) and Blade Runner (mainly in terms of atmosphere), but in many ways this is more of an art film. While the story itself is not too hard to follow the movie as a whole is very subjective, at times even surreal, and one that tries to make the viewer think about and question what they are seeing.

This approach allows it to be a very psychologically-driven experience rather than something driven by a simple adrenaline rush (I suspect this is probably the reason why many consider it one of Bigelow's weaker films; a lot of them probably went in expecting a more straight forward action thriller). As a result, the film is more slow-paced than one would normally expect. It takes its time to allow the viewer access to the minds of its two central characters and to explore how both are simultaneously brought together and pulled apart over the course of the film.

The theme of challenging established gender conventions is a prominent one throughout, most notably in Megan's characterization. This is even reflected in her wardrobe, which constantly places her in attire more often seen on men, most notably the full blue police uniform (complete with peaked cap) and the presence of shoulder holsters. She is also a very strong character, with attention constantly being paid to her tough attitude and her wit (especially towards the end of the film, when she is locked in a metaphorical Chess game with Eugene).

Hunt also works as a disturbing antagonist. His weird deranged nature serves as an early precursor to the "adrenaline junkie danger seekers" that would become common in many of Bigelow's later films (Bodhi in Point Break and Sgt. First Class William James in The Hurt Locker arguably being the two best-known examples). However, unlike those later figures or Dirty Harry's Scorpio (from whom he obviously draws inspiration) Hunt is actually able to pass for an ordinary man. This adds a few extra layers of unease on the few occasions when he refrains from showing his true colours, since he is very clever in setting up Turner in such ways so that most of the other officers don't believe her.

Watching it today is especially horrifying since there are actually films still being made in which this kind of character would be the hero. He did display a vibe reminiscent of so-called love stories such as The Age of Adaline and Fifty Shades of Gray. His deterioration of character is also conveyed visually through a combination of body language, atmosphere, and costuming (he goes from wearing a fancy business suit to looking like a homeless man). By emphasizing these aspects of his character right from the beginning, instead of leaving it as a twist for the end, we are able to get into the twisted mind of a psychopath, an interesting if unsettling experience. At the same time, however, there is also an enigmatic quality to the whole thing, as the film never spells anything out but leaves the viewer to imagine what kind of thought process go through his head.

I don't know why this film is so hard to find, but it shouldn't be. I don't care if it's Criterion, Kino, Alliance, Mongrel, or some obscure indie distribution firm nobody has heard of. Somebody please get this film released on DVD again! It is a brilliant piece of work from Kathryn Bigelow and one I find myself tempted to rank as being among her best (right up there with The Hurt Locker and Zero Dark Thirty). Blue Steel is arguably one of her most interesting projects, with its strange and subjective approach to what in the hands of any other director might have been a conventional action thriller. If you are a fan of her work, or even if you are just looking for some unusual police films, this is a must-see.

Gender Inequality and Law Enforcement

As I have discussed before on multiple occasions, there are currently a large number of issues regarding how women are represented in certain professions in contemporary media. One of the worst examples of this is the absurd inability of films and television to recognize the accomplishments (or in many cases, even the existence) of female firefighters. At most, female firefighters are rarely anything more than extras, if even that. Through all my extensive research on the subject I have found that at best, female firefighters are poorly written (L.A. Firefighters, Chicago Fire) or partial examples (i.e. Leah in Flashpoint, a competent female firefighter, but one who has retired and switched to being a cop by the time she appears on the show). The only definitive example I have of a positive role model for female firefighters is Fireman Sam, a kids show from Wales and even that wasn't entirely perfect (Penny wasn't introduced until Season 2). That is not even getting into the idiots who actually use extreme generalizations (the "upper body strength" argument being a favorite) to claim that women are weaker than men and should not even be allowed to apply to join the fire service.

Of course, firefighting isn't the only profession in which female participants have been misrepresented. To an extent the same could be said for a lot of male-dominated professions. For instance it is still hard to find positive role models for women in the military even in films dealing with modern warfare where would make sense to show them. Representation of female astronauts is getting better but even then films like Moon manage to avoid depicting them altogether. One of the more interesting and complicated areas is the issue of female representation in law enforcement, more specifically the issue of how female cops are treated.

Historically, police films and shows have often been very male-dominated and there is a reason for this. It is because prior to the 1970's there were virtually no female cops, if any at all. Naturally, any film from before that era (or any contemporary period piece that focuses on the police) never showed any female cops, but even by the 70's women in law enforcement would have been rare at best. For this reason the closest John Carpenter's Assault on Precinct could get to having a strong female police officer was to allow a secretary to take part in the main action, but even with the integration of the police force many films still failed to get the memo, hence masculine action films like Die Hard in 1988.

The only major director at the time who seemed to notice was James Cameron, as is evidenced by the presence of at least one female cop being present The Terminator (though she is little more than an unnamed extra during the T-800's rampage through the police station, while the two officers actually given focus are both men). This is why it took three films before the Dirty Harry series finally introduced a female police officer. The Enforcer tried to create a positive role model but failed miserably (though actress Tyne Daly would later go on to star in Cagney and Lacey, a television series centered around the relationship between two female cops). While this film was a disaster, it could be argued that the character of Kate Moore could have helped to set in motion.

Today, some progress has been made. It is becoming more common to see films and shows make a more concerted effort to diversify depictions of law enforcement. It is also becoming more common on a variety of television programs. Even shows like Elementary, in which the two regular cops are both men, they have had female officers make an appearance (as well as a female consultant in Joan Watson). End of Watch also made a point of showing capable female police officers even if the central focus was still on two male protagonists. Unfortunately, even if some things have changed compared to representations of women in other male-dominated professions there are still some problems to consider.

First, it is still common for movies and television shows to still depict all-male groups of cops regardless of whether it is necessary. One notable case of this being done on television is True Detective, but Martin Scorsese's The Departed is a perfect example. This was a movie that had a very large cast of characters. It has large variety of cops as well as several crooks, every single one of them had their own plotline... and the only woman they could fit in the movie was the love interest? She is not even directly involved in the narrative. The only major female character was a police psychologist but the focus is almost exclusively on her romantic entanglements with Billy.

There is not so much as a single female cop anywhere in the cast, not even as an extra. Yes, I know The Departed was a remake of the Hong Kong movie Internal Affairs and they did it too but I don't care. I find it hard to believe that there was not one character in the film who could have been written as or played by a woman without changing anything in the script beyond perhaps a few pronouns. Would it really have killed the filmmakers to even have one female cop or crook take part in the action? After all, it was dealing with a large cast of characters in the present day, so it is not like there are any social issues to consider that might excuse it (as would be the case for any police procedural set in say... the 1940's). This should be simple: just cast a woman in one of the five billion police roles even if it was originally meant to be a guy and only change the script as much as is absolutely necessary.

Second, it is worth noting that while it is becoming more common to depict female cops, they are shown more commonly in some areas than others. For instance, when the subject of police corruption comes up, it is extremely rare to see a female corrupt cop outside of a handful of exceptions such as Dredd and Sabotage. The most recognized exception to the rule is arguably Ramirez in The Dark Knight, except in that instance her corruption was not her own doing so much as it was careful psychological manipulation and pressure exerted on her by the film's (male) villains. Meanwhile, there are hundreds of films that deal with corrupt male cops.

Gender representation also seems to vary depending on which department the work in question is focusing on. It seems to be far more likely that one will see female homicide detectives, federal agents, or patrol officers than it is to see them taking part in a SWAT team. There are very few images of female SWAT officers. Very few movies (at least from what I have found) actually take the time to give SWAT teams any real focus, usually casting them as a background or minor supporting role. When this happens, it is almost always a team made exclusively of men (Speed provides a notable exception in one scene, though in that instance the female officer has no dialogue and is presumably killed when a bomb goes off in the villain's house).

Even films that do put focus on SWAT teams often go this route. The Korean film The Raid centers, as the title implies, on a SWAT team raiding an apartment building. Director Gareth Evans decided once again to depict an all-male team with virtually no female characters at all. One could try to justify this by arguing cultural differences, but I don't buy that especially considering China has actually employed all-female SWAT teams. Once again, would it really have killed Evans to have even one female officer in the cast? There is no reason why the team had to be all men.

There are exceptions to this rule, but they hard to find. The movie S.W.A.T. is one rare example of a film attempting to challenge this convention. The opening scene of the film depicts an all-male SWAT team responding to a bank robbery-gone wrong, but it also ends up being problematic due to the actions of Brian Gamble. This ends up leading to the dissolution of the original team, and forces Sgt. Hondo to assemble a new team. Once again, the first few are men. When we do meet the one female member of the team, her sex is the last thing that is revealed; she is given the gender-neutral name "Chris" and simply established to be very good at holding her own.

The movie then proceeds to emphasize that from the moment she first arrives for training she is an important member of the team, easily capable of pulling her own weight, and avoids having any romantic triangle. In fact, only two people ever voice disapproval of her presence in the SWAT team: her boss Captain Fuller and ex-SWAT officer Gamble, of whom one is eventually proven wrong and the other goes on to become one of the main antagonists. This is also interesting when one considers that there were no female team members in the original 1970's show that inspired the movie.

Flashpoint is also another good example of an exception to the rule. Though the characters refrain from using the term "SWAT" in favor of "SRU" (strategic response unit), they serve more or less the same function as the heavy-duty cops who are called in when things get two dangerous for regular patrol officers. The series always had at least one woman on the team, with at total of three serving at different periods of the show's run (though Jules was the only one to stay for the entire series; one was introduced as a temporary substitute while Amy Jo Johnson was on maternity leave and went on to become a recurring character afterwards, while the other was not introduced until season 2). All three of the women who served on the SRU were competent, strong characters and proved to be valuable members of the team.

Unfortunately, S.W.A.T. and Flashpoint are more the exceptions than the rules. Very few movies or shows follow the examples these works should be setting, even when the SWAT team is cast as anything more than a background role. The fact is that there are women taking part in all areas of police work, and if progress is to be made there needs to be more positive role models of them in every form possible, yet there seem to be double standards at play here. Casting a woman as a homicide detective or patrol officer is considered okay, but very few people seem to even consider the possibility depicting of female SWAT officers even though it is becoming increasingly common in real life. 

The fact is that while there has been a lot of progress since The Enforcer, there are still inequalities in how women are depicted in law enforcement. These issues need to be addressed and rectified as soon as possible. Some people have been known to criticize these types of posts, claiming that I'm trying to shove "political correctness" into everything. They say it like encouraging more films to diversify their casts is a bad thing, but if that's what it's going to take than I'm all for it. This process has proven to be insanely slow. People should know better by 2015 and yet little seems to have changed. Something needs to be done.

Love is a Killer

Every director has his or her own unique style. This is where the whole concept of auteur theory, first pioneered by French critics such as Francois Truffaut and, somewhat unfortunately, Jean-Luc Godard, originates. While it is debatable whether the director should in fact be considered the "author" of a film (one could make a good case for why that label should instead go to the screenwriter), there are patterns to be observed among a director's work. No two directors are the same (though often they may influence each other), and once you know their style it becomes easy to recognize.

In the case of these early critics, they learned to see patterns in the films of Hollywood directors like John Ford, Howard Hawks, and Alfred Hitchcock. Today, anyone well versed in their films could easily distinguish a John Carpenter film from a movie by David Lynch or Quentin Tarantino. What those patterns are will vary. It may be in terms of the content of their films, such as Tarantino's use of gore. It could be in the environment such as Carpenter's love for claustrophobic environments. It could be in terms of narrative, such as Tarantino's trademark of non-linear storytelling. It could be in terms of themes, such as Lynch's habit of making films about seemingly ideal communities that turn out to have a hidden darker side. It might even be as simple as the director having certain actors they routinely cast, such as Tarantino and Harvey Keitel or Lynch and Laura Dern.

However, for every director, their style has to develop. For this reason, it is often interesting to look back at their earlier films and compare it to their later work. In some cases it is more obvious than others. Reservoir Dogs is more clearly a Tarantino film than Dark Star is a Carpenter film. Still, there is one director who has eluded such easy categorization: Stanley Kubrick. Kubrick was such as versatile director that his style is almost impossible to clearly define. He had ideas that occasionally popped up, certain forms of iconography that would become trademarks, such as the use of long and narrow spaces and the famous "Kubrick stare". However, this does not start to appear until fairly late in his career.

Killer's Kiss was Kubrick's second feature film. Prior to this one, Kubrick's only feature film had been the independently-produced Fear and Desire (a film he would later try to disown to the point where it would not see a legal DVD release until over a decade after his death). Killer's Kiss is a bit more straight forward compared to Fear and Desire, and was made with better production values. It might not be Kubrick's strongest film, but it was the movie responsible for bringing him into the mainstream and launch a directorial career that would last for 44 years.

Davy Gordon (Jamie Smith) is a washed-up boxer trying to figure out what he wants to do with himself. He still takes parts in fights from time to time (leading to what would have been a very daring fight scene for the era). He is thinking about going home to see his parents on their ranch, but then he hears his neighbor Gloria Price (Irene Kane) screaming after an encounter with her boss Vincent Raphello (Frank Silvera), who is basically committing sexual harassment (at a time when that sort of behavior was easier to get away with). Davy finds himself sympathizing with Gloria, who has had a difficult life, and decides to help after quickly falling in love. However, Vincent does not take kindly to this development, and tries to pull them apart, even going as far as to frame Davy for murder.

It is definitely hard to spot any of Kubrick's early trademarks here. It certainly does not look like a film by the man who would go on to direct films like 2001: A Space Odyssey, Barry Lyndon, and Eyes Wide Shut. There isn't much of the narrow corridors, the bathroom scenes, or even the famed "Kubrick Stare" that would become associated with his later films. There is, however, one thing about Killer's Kiss that does resemble Kubrick's other films, if a very general aspect: it demonstrates his constant refusal to conform to standard filmmaking practices. In that sense, this film is actually quite impressive.

Fear and Desire was first released in 1953, with Killer's Kiss following two years later. At the time Kubrick was getting started, the Hollywood Studio System was still in full effect. It would not be for much longer; the Production Code had already been relaxed with America's entry World War II and a series of legal cases over the following years would bring it to an end, but when Killer's Kiss first premiered the rules were still in place. Hollywood had very specific rules about how to structure a film, this being the "Classical Model" that is still dominant today (story comes first). The Motion Picture Production Code might not have been as strictly enforced as it was during 1934, but there were still rules about what could and could not be depicted. There was more lenience towards violence, but not so much regarding sex.

Kubrick was never the kind of man who liked to stick to rules. While he would have had to work within the rules of Hollywood filmmaking, he also liked to take chances. Beginning in the 1960's, there was more room for him to do his own thing, but in the 1950's, he had to follow the rules. Killer's Kiss can certainly be considered a classical film, but for 1953 it would have actually been quite daring. The one scene in which Davy is shown boxing is very intense for the era in which it was made (and it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume Martin Scorsese took some inspiration from it in Raging Bull). There is also the fact that the plot is basically about a female dancer being sexually harassed by her boss (even if the words "sexual harassment" are never used), at a time when sex of any kind was forbidden (the Production Code included a long list about how filmmakers were not allowed to address "illicit sex"). The fact that said boss is cast as the villain because of his actions could also be seen as fairly progressive for the era. Then there are other odd stylistic choices, such as juxtaposing shots of a ballet performance over Gloria's narration of her troubled childhood, which seem peculiar but simultaneously make it interesting.

Perhaps the most daring element is the climactic fight scene between Davy and Vincent, which happens in a mannequin warehouse. The warehouse in question is filled with nude mannequins; many of them women with exposed breasts. Kubrick would later go on to show plenty of living nude women (perhaps most notably in A Clockwork Orange and Eyes Wide Shut), but nudity was frowned upon even before the Production Code was in place. Most of the "controversial" films it aimed to suppress only hinted at sex through innuendos. The Production Code itself even states that "Complete nudity is never permitted. This includes nudity in fact or in silhouette, or any lecherous or licentious notice thereof by other characters in the picture." Despite all this, Kubrick was able to shoot a scene in a room where the characters are literally surrounded by fully-naked (if artificial and unmoving) bodies. This was an extremely daring move that could have easily gone wrong, and the fact that Kubrick even had the nerve to consider it is admirable.

Ultimately, Killer's Kiss isn't Kubrick's greatest achievement, but it is still worth seeing. As an introduction to Kubrick, it works, as it shows just how creative he could get and how he never wanted to let anything interfere with his vision. The story might be simple compared to his later work, but it is impressive just for how daring it would have been during the 1950's. The fact that Kubrick had the nerve to take as many chances as he did is admirable.

Why Breathless is the Most Pointless Crime Film Ever Made

Jean-Luc Godard's Breathless is arguably the least awful piece of his filmography that I have been forced to watch. Compared to Alphaville or Tout Va Bien, it's practically a masterpiece, but that's not saying much coming from this guy. Breathless is only slightly better on the grounds that it actually has a coherent story and some idea of what it's trying to be. Still, the movie is riddled with problems that completely destroy the experience. The editing is rediculous. When he was told it was too long, Godard couldn't be bothered to watch his own film to find out what needed to be cut, and instead just took out random segments (that's not genius, that's just laziness). Also, the soundtrack sounds more like it belongs in one of Connery's James Bond films than a serious crime narrative influenced by film noir.

The original script for this film was originally written by François Truffaut, and from what I've been told of his original plan it makes far more sense. Truffaut's original script was about a criminal on the run who finds refuge in a young woman's house while she slowly begins to sympathize and presumably fall in love with him. This seems like a decent idea for a crime thriller, and could potentially have worked. Unfortunately, Truffaut decided it would be a good idea to hand the script over to my constant arch-nemesis, Jean-Luc Godard. Once he got hold of the film, it turned into a ridiculous story about a dim-witted and unlikable criminal who ends up getting "unjustly" killed under perfectly justified circumstances.

The famous ending of the film involves this character, Michel (Jean-Paul Belmondo) getting shot by the cops and telling his girlfriend Patricia (Jean Seberg) that "you make me want to puke" before dying. The fact that he was shot is treated as an injustice, despite the fact that there was no reason it wasn't justified and the only reason it happened was because Michel is an idiot. He was ready to turn himself into the authorities at this point in the story, only for one of his criminal partners to hand him a gun. Michel specifically said he didn't want the gun and there was no reason he had to take it. The gun was thrown onto the ground, Michel could have completely ignored it, especially as he explicitly said he didn't want it.

Instead, he picked up the gun, and by this point the cops already knew he was dangerous, so they shot him. That's not injustice. It's standard police procedure. If you pick up a loaded gun off the ground and you have no license to do so, especially if you've already murdered a cop, they have the right to fire on  you. If Michel had just ignored the gun and turned himself in he could have done his time in prison and everything would have been fine, but instead he did the stupid thing and got himself killed. In fact, the just nature of this supposedly "unjustified" shooting goes far beyond the final scenes of the movie.

The fact that Michel is a complete and total idiot is literally established in the very first scene when he starts playing with a revolver while driving a stolen car. There is no reason why he needs to have the gun out, but he just casually waves it around and starts pretending to fire it. I've never held a real gun in my life and even I can tell you that this is a very bad idea that could go wrong in so many ways. Furthermore, the moment a cop comes his way he shoots him, also a very stupid move. At the very least Michel could have tried to talk his way out. Generally when you've committed a crime and something has gone wrong, all that is accomplished by shooting a cop is that you make the situation a lot worse than it needs to be. Just ask the guys in Fargo.

Furthermore, Godard also forgets to actually give the viewer any real reason to sympathize with Michel. In the same early scenes in which he is established to be an idiot, he is also revealed to be a misogynist, making jokes about female drivers being "cowards" (and later commenting, while looting a girl's apartment, that "women have no money"). Writing sympathetic crooks is not always easy, but adding that he is both a misogynist and an idiot is really not helping Godard's case at all. There's also the fact that Michel doesn't seem to have much of a life outside of crime either, as he goes on to rob other people's homes and basically mug a few other people even when there's no real reason it is necessary. I'm totally siding with the cops here in wanting to see him put behind bars.

Then we get to the central conflict, where Michel (rather stupidly) shoots a cop, does absolutely nothing to dispose of the body or conceal any evidence against him, and (correctly) realizes he is in a large pile of trouble and needs to get out of town. A sensible criminal might try to get any remaining affairs in order as quickly as possible before getting out, but Michel does something different. Instead, he decides to invite Partricia (who has no knowledge of his criminal activity) with him to go to Rome. It's an unusual idea but there's no harm in asking, so he proposes it to her (while also buying a newspaper from her and then shoving it back in her face because it doesn't have a horoscope in it) and she doesn't agree to go with him. Now that should be the end of it, and after seeing her kissing another man that confirms with 100% certainty that she's not going to go to Rome with him, especially not when she has a stable job in Paris.

However, Michel doesn't take no for an answer, and instead decides to keep pressing the issue. He doesn't do this by bringing her flowers or perhaps talking to her on the street or calling her or otherwise trying to find a sensible channel for communication. He is so obsessed with sex that he literally breaks into her apartment, takes off his clothes, climbs into her bed, and just waits for her to show up. As if shooting a police officer and not-so-grand theft auto weren't bad enough he can now technically be charged with breaking and entering, yet another very smart move by a genius like him. Seriously, why is this guy so insanely stupid?

However, there is another side to this. Not only has he just given the police yet another crime to charge him with, but he also does so not to see Patricia, but just to have sex. He constantly tries to seduce her for a lengthy scene just depicting the two of them together in the apartment, in which all he really does is try to get her into bed with him (while occasionally stopping to try and call an acquaintance about the fact that, you know, he's on the run from the cops). Also, he completely lied to Patricia, and the only reason she found out that he is a crook was because a cop told her. So to put things into perspective, our lovable protagonist is a dangerous criminal, a murderer, a misogynist, a liar, and a pervert.

Yeah, if you ask me, I'd say she was very much in the right to turn him into the authorities. Putting it into perspective kinda removes the impact of Michel's "you make me want to puke" line at the end, doesn't it? He's a horrible person who pretty much deserved the comeuppance he got at the end. It wasn't a tragedy at all, it was justice, and it only happened the way it did because he was an idiot who could have easily gotten out of this mess if he had just gotten out of town when he had the chance (he could have just phoned Patricia when he got to Rome, this was the 60's, it's not like there was no way he would be able to reach her) or if he had just not fired on a cop before he even knew why he was being approached (for all we know, that cop could have just wanted to give him a ticket for speeding), or if he had not picked up the gun he specifically said he didn't want.

In any case, the whole movie completely goes against its own messages. Congratulations, Jean-Luc Godard, you have me totally rooting for the girlfriend you seem to want to depict as "traitorous" because she told the police about a dangerous criminal who literally broke into her home to have sex with her. There is absolutely nothing redeeming about this main character, nor is there anything "unjust" about his untimely demise. Breathless might actually have a coherent story compared to Alphaville or Tout Va Bien, but it is a poorly thought-out and absurd one, and whatever Godard intended to convey with this film, he presented precisely the opposite.

Wasted Potential From A Professional

Back in grade 11, when my high school started its first film class, my teacher had an assistant with whom I would banter a lot about movies (as well a the teacher himself, but that's another matter). Towards the end of the year, we were running low on time to watch movies and still fit in everything my teacher wanted to do.  Instead of watching movies in full, he and the assistant began screening clips from movies they recommended for us to see, and seeing as I had a huge supply of clips available on my computer at the time I made numerous offers to use them but was turned down every time. 

One of the first clips we were shown was a scene from the movie Léon: The Professional, specifically the scene in which Natalie Portman manages to survive the massacre of her family by total chance (she happened to be out buying groceries at the time and got home afterwards). I found myself interested in seeing the whole thing, but initially turned down an offer from the assistant to borrow his copy for the weekend. Three years later I finally got around to picking up a copy on Blu-ray and decided to give it a watch. For three years I had been meaning to watch that movie, and what I got was... okay at the most. It's one of those movies that starts out promising but builds up to a disappointing climax that ruins the whole thing. I'll get into more detail about that later.

Luc Besson's work really seems to be hit or miss. Some of his movies, like The Big Blue, are genuinely good. Others, like The Fifth Element are over-the-top and campy but still fun to watch. Then he has one or two movies that are just bad, the best example being Lucy; one of the only times I have walked out of a theater. (Why did you make an entire science fiction movie out of an idea that has been completely debunked by science?) Léon: The Professional might not be as bad as Lucy, for sure. However, it is hardly Besson's best work either. It has some good ideas but also a mountain of wasted potential.

The story concerns the relationship between an assassin named Léon, played by Jean Reno; and a young girl named Mathilda, played by a teenage Natalie Portman. Mathilda happens to be miserable, living in a dysfunctional family with an abusive father caught up in criminal activity. When corrupt police officer Stansfield played by Gary Oldman gets involved he ends up murdering Mathilda's entire family, including her brother. Mathilda herself survives by total luck simply due to not being present at the time, and takes refuge in Léon's apartment. After spending some time with Léon, she talks him into training her to be an assassin as well so she can get revenge. 

Sounds like a pretty good premise, right? I thought so, too. Unfortunately that doesn't really go the way it should. You have this great setup involving this girl being trained as an assassin... and it's never used. Mathilda gets all these skills and never gets a chance to actually take advantage of them. The most she ever gets to do is shoot a gun blindly through a window (before he begins training her) and use a sniper rifle to shoot a paintball at some random guy jogging. The whole point is supposed to be her quest for revenge... but nope. We can't let her take it on. Better to have Léon do everything while Mathilda just hides.

I mentioned earlier, the climax was what really ruined the movie and pulled me out of it. In this big scene, Stansfield brings a whole team of cops to take out Léon (all because Mathilda was stupid enough to tell him who she was and what she was doing). He explicitly states that there are over 200 of them, seemingly every cop in the city... and not one woman among them. Statistically that seems extremely improbable, and at first I thought it might have just been my feminist side kicking in again. However, thinking about it at length, there was a lot of wasted potential in doing so, and it does raise a few questions about Besson's views on gender, considering all the characters who actually do something are men.

We have an insanely huge army of over 200 male cops who are all taken out by Léon. Where is Mathilda this whole time? She's sneaking out of the building to make sure Léon's potted plant gets out safely. This would have been a great opportunity for her to show off her skills. Instead she is immediately grabbed within moments of leaving the apartment and has to get rescued by Léon who then starts going Rambo on the cops. The whole movie has been about her quest for revenge, but instead it's Léon who dies taking out Stansfield, which was a big disappointment, and Mathilda just runs away. 

Now that alone is annoying, but there is another angle to look at where Besson's treatment of women displays a waste of potential. Throughout the movie, Léon keeps saying that he has this one rule about who he kills: "No women, no children". Okay, sure, he has standards, but I have a question for you Léon, supposing a woman is posing an obvious threat to you? I mean, what are you going to do if Jane Smith comes kicking down your door and has an assault rifle pointed at your forehead? Supposing a bunch of armed cops break into your apartment and one of them happens to be a woman?

Besson apparently made this movie completely failing to consider the fact that female cops and female assassins do exist, which doesn't make sense considering the entire plot consists of him training a girl to be an assassin. His "no women, no children" rule is obviously intended to give him some depth by displaying a moral code, but it never really affects the plot in general.You could take out every single scene where he mentions that code and the story would still be pretty much exactly the same. This climactic scene could have been a great opportunity to test how far Léon would go in sticking to that rule. 

There could have been some dramatic potential in Léon being faced with a female cop holding a loaded gun, and him trying to cope with the possibility that he may have to break his one rule. That could even have been his downfall, with him being unable to bring himself to shoot a female cop and getting killed as a result. That would then have forced Mathilda to become more self-reliant and step up as an action heroine, allowing her to finally confront Stansfield and kill him. Instead, we just have a ridiculously large number of men and Léon beating them up before getting killed taking out the guy who should have been killed by Mathilda.

It's a shame, really, because Léon: The Professional could have been a great movie. There was a lot of good ideas and some great actors who try to do their best with their performances. In the end, however, there are too many opportunities missed. Luc Besson had this brilliant idea for an action movie and completely failed to take advantage of it. I know he can make a good movie, but all we have here was a very good premise that has sadly gone to waste.

Ms. 45 and the Urban Vigilantes

This is a film that I might never have heard of if not for a chance mention in one of my textbooks and one I might have forgotten about if not for my innate curiosity and an unprecedented intrigue that came with learning about a major trend in 1970's action films, specifically the "urban vigilante" idea, also known as an "urban western". Typically the way these films work is they combine the classical western hero with the street and back alley settings prevalent in film noir and gangster pictures of the 1940's and 1950's.

Usually the way they work is that you have an anti-hero protagonist who is torn between two worlds. Much as the classical western hero is caught between the "civilized" world and the "savage" wilderness, the urban western hero (or in this case, heroine) is in between both the law and the crooks. They're typically civilians, as is the case for this film along with other films such as the Death Wish series featuring Charles Bronson. Other times they are rogue cops, a role made famous by Dirty Harry, or even crooks themselves as seen with Snake Plissken in Escape From New York.

In any case, they are a character who sees themselves as above the law. They find the police are too much of a hindrance for justice, and decide to take matters into their own hands. Dirty Harry continues to pursue Scorpio long after he is taken off the case and Snake Plissken screws over the ungrateful President by destroying the tape he was supposed to retrieve for him (and that was in the first movie, don't get me started on what he does in Escape From L.A.). There are even echoes of this phenomenon in more contemporary works such as Christopher Nolan's Batman films.

The movie we watched in class was Dirty Harry, and a lot of the focus was on that along with Death Wish. Escape From New York was one I only later concluded fit into the "urban vigilante" trend based on what I'd learned. One thing it didn't take me long to notice was that the vigilante character was usually a man, so naturally when the chapter on the urban vigilante films in my textbook referred to one with a female lead I became curious. That was my introduction to Ms. 45, also known as Angel of Vengeance. I eventually decided to pursue this movie and found a copy last week. I had some time during the weekend to watch it and it turned out also to be quite fitting for Halloween.

Thana (Zoë Lund) is a seamstress who happens to be mute. She happens to be living in 1980's Manhattan, a world where it is not easy being a woman, and even harder being a woman who can't talk. While walking home from work one day, she is helplessly abducted by a street punk (Abel Ferrara, the movie's director) who sexually assaults her. The experience of it happening once already leaves the poor heroine severely traumatized, but after getting home she encounters another punk trying to rob her apartment who also tries to rape her. This time Thana snaps and murders her attacker.

From then on, things are no longer the same. Thana starts to grow paranoid of every man she sees and the trauma of her experiences begin to bleed into her job as she starts to slip up more frequently. Most notably, she takes the gun off the punk she murders and begins carrying it around with her. Numerous men try to sexually harass her and subsequently meet their ends at the barrel of a 45 caliber pistol.

It's really a shame that Zoë Lund's career was cut short so early (she only went on to do five other features before dying of a drug overdose in 1999) because if this role was anything to go by she had extraordinary talent. She never so much as utters a single line at any point in the film, meaning she has to rely more or less purely on facial expression and body language to convey the emotions that come with her character's downward spiral. The fact that the emotion is purely visual makes her character stand out all the more from the rest of the cast (all of whom do talk). It gives her a lot more depth than it would to have her speak, but at the same time adds an enigmatic quality as we never learn her full backstory or why she has this disability.

I also liked the fact that unlike many other films both then and now Thana isn't glamorized or oversexualized, at least not as much. For most of the movie she looks like a very average young woman except when she is trying to make herself attractive to men in order to get close enough to kill them. By making her look like an everyday person, it makes the story of a civilian trying to take the law into her own hands all the more meaningful.

The rest of the cast is also pretty good. The interactions between Thana and the other characters are definitely believable, something not easy to pull off when you have to pretend your lead actress can't actually talk. There are two other major characters she interacts with: her landlady Mrs. Nasone and her boss Albert (Albert Sinkys), both of whom come into conflict with her over the changes in personality that come with her choice to become a vigilante while she simultaneously tries to keep them from finding out what she does during the night. She also has an emotional relationship with the other seamstresses, who are more or less the closest thing she has to friends and the only ones who really give her any kind of comfort.

Naturally for a film like this there's plenty of action to be found. Zoë Lund gets several scenes to herself where she gets to be tough and show off her newfound skills with a pistol. Even when she isn't pulling out her gun the film still manages to create tension. Knowing the protagonist just about every scene where she interacts with a man builds up a sense of tension because you know how paranoid she is and how she is very easily provoked into murder. Then of course there's the incredibly tense climax which I won't spoil for you.

I would strongly recommend Ms. 45 as a dark action film. It is an effective spin on the whole idea of the "urban vigilante", with a strong and indeed very memorable action heroine and plenty of tension. It's also a good movie to see in October, since while not an outright horror story it can be disturbing and even features a sub-plot surrounding a Halloween party. It was worth the thirty dollars I spent on it, and now I'm glad I kept up with the readings for that one course since otherwise I'd never have found out about this film. I don't know how easy it will be to find, but if you get the chance it is worth checking out

The OTHER Great Train Robbery

The Great Train Robbery is a film that has a rather significant place in film history. Contrary to popular belief, it is not the first film to tell a story (it was preceded by The Life of an American Fireman and A Trip to the Moon), but it did build on its predecessors and establish more sophisticated editing techniques than had been used previously. Ultimately it would help to make a path for D.W. Griffith's Birth of a Nation which in turn made possible every film that has been made since. That last shot alone became notorious back in 1903 when its first audiences actually expected to be shot.

Of course, that is likely what you're initially thinking of when you hear that title. What you may not realize is that this is not the only film about... well... a great train robbery. Several decades later, another film by that same title was released, directed by none other than Michael "Jurassic Park" Crichton and based on his own novel. Like the 1903 film, it was loosely based on real events, and centered on a plan to rob a moving train. That's pretty much where the similarities end.

During the Crimean War (1853-1856), the British government decides to pay its soldiers in gold. That's all well and good but they also realize very well that doing so might attract unwanted attention. They devise a sophisticated plan to ensure that the gold cannot be stolen: first they transport it by train (the film notes that nobody had ever successfully robbed a moving train at the time), with a safe built with four locks and four seperate keys that are kept by different people, all of which are required for it to open. Everything seems to be perfect.

Enter a criminal mastermind only referred to by the aliases "Edward Pierce" and "John Simms" (Sean Connery), who pretends to be a successful businessman all while collecting information in order to devise a plan to steal the gold. To open the safe he enlists Agar (played by Donald Sutherland with an awesome mustache), a forger who agrees to create replicas of the keys if they can be obtained. His other partner-in-crime is his beautiful girlfriend Miriam (Lesley-Anne Down), a former actress and master of disguise who knows how to use her feminine charms.

This film is inevitably a lot of fun. The period detail is extraordinary and the pacing is very good. There is lots of intrigue surrounding the planning and execution of the heist and how it's all going to go down. Along the way various challenges present themselves, but it just becomes even more interesting how our heroes figure out a solution. When it seems impossible they have to think outside the box. When they don't have the proper means to get through they have to figure out how to get them.

That's basically the structure of the film. In short it's a step-by-step process, where our daring heroes have to take care of each obstacle, with individual segments dedicated to obtaining copies the first two keys plus a third for the last two (which are both locked up in the same place), plus any further information and obstacles that come up. Eventually it all culminates in an exciting climax with lots of daring stunts and an ending that leaves you to question just how much was planned before and how much was improvised along the way.

So overall, I would recommend Michael Crichton's The Great Train Robbery. It's an exciting heist film with plenty of action and suspense that will keep you going up until the grand climax, and possibly a little further than that. The leads all play off of each other surprisingly well, the problems they get into are creative as are their solutions, and there's plenty of tension going around. If you want a clever little heist film, this is definitely for you.

Character Profile: Mr. Blonde

He's the dark-haired guy in the middle.

Reservoir Dogs is a very interesting film. It's a very non-conventional story (only a man like Tarantino would try to make a heist movie without actually showing the heist). The cast is made up primarily of a bunch of guys who have very few redeeming qualities. Let's face it, all but one are crooks (and even he ended up shooting a civilian) who spend most of the film yelling at each other, not to mention they utter a lot of offensive language including a few racist remarks. The weird part is it somehow still manages to be extraordinarily compelling in its simplicity.

The main cast of course consists of a bunch of men who, with the exception of Nice Guy Eddie and Joe, are dressed similarly (making them harder to identify) and identified by color-coded names: Mr. White, Mr. Orange, Mr. Blue, Mr. Brown, Mr. Pink, and Mr. Blonde. All of them are nasty characters. Mr. White seems slightly better by comparison but even he does a few less than pleasant things. 

Mr. Pink does a lot of horrible things: we first see him refusing to tip a waitress in spite of pressure from his colleagues and only relenting when Joe points out he paid for his breakfast. Later on we see him firing at cops giving chase and dragging an innocent woman out of her car so that he can get away, showing little concern over one of his partners being severely wounded, and trying to make off with the diamonds on his own after everybody else ends up in a Mexican stand-off. The funny thing is in the long run he doesn't seem so bad.

As bad as the others get ("Nice Guy Eddie" shoots a cop in cold blood, as if they weren't already in enough trouble), they seem like really nice guys once Mr. Blonde (who isn't actually blonde) steps onto the scene. From his first appearance in the film's opening scene when he jokes about shooting Mr. White to his arrival at the warehouse we know something's not quite right about this guy. 

Mr. White is freaked out by him and even Mr. Pink mentions that he came close to shooting him (there is talk about how he went on an unnecessarily violent killing spree during the heist of which White was almost a casualty). While Mr. Blonde's joking about shooting one of his own partners and Mr. White's testimony certainly help to set things up, we really get to see his true colors when he arrives at the warehouse. The others are shocked and confused. Mr. White arrives desperately trying to comfort a critically wounded Mr. Orange and Mr. Pink bursts into the warehouse mid-tantrum. 

Mr. Blonde, however, steps in very cool and casual.  He doesn't seem to fully understand the gravity of the situation, having apparently taken the time to stop at a fast food joint to get a soda and some fries whereas everyone else has been desperately rushing to their meeting point. We see him just casually leaning against the pole, sipping at his drink and teasing his partners. This is certainly a sharp contrast to the two men present who are obviously a bit more worried about the fact that the heist was a disaster, they don't know how many people got out alive, and the cops could be closing in any time.

Then of course we get to the infamous torture scene, the scene so horrifying Michael Madsen had a lot of trouble going through with it, and even broke down on set after Kirk Baltz, who played the cop he tortures, ad-libbed a line about his character having a wife and kids. Blonde of course proceeds to duct tape the guy's mouth shut and violently cut off his ear with a razor blade (incidentally, I do wonder if Tarantino took some inspiration from Blue Velvet when writing this scene). He then goes on to douse the poor guy in gasoline (which is already painful enough) and very nearly sets him on fire. 

The thing is that before he does this, he looks the cop in the eye and honestly says that he's just torturing him for fun. He doesn't care what information the poor guy will give, he's going to hurt him anyway. Worse still is just how casual he is about the whole thing, putting on some of his favorite music and dancing around. 

The guy is a psycho, plain and simple, although White and Pink are the only ones to recognize that. We even see a bit of this in his flashback, when he talks to Joe and "Nice Guy Eddy" after getting out of jail. He has a chance to go clean and get a job, but he loves his criminal work too much to even consider that possibility. 

Whatever happened to make him this way there's no turning back, and the only way his story could end was with his own death, which is precisely what happened at the hands of Mr. Orange. Sadly, Blonde does manage to get a partial victory against Orange in that he had earned enough trust from Joe and Eddy that there was no way they would believe Orange's story that he planned to betray them.