Kill Bill Vol.2 (DVD)

I’m back!

But far more importantly, so is our favourite gibbering, Hawaiian shirt-wearing maverick film director – Quentin Tarantino. Yes, the squeaky voiced one has now seen fit to unleash his latest offering for our consumption – Volume 2 of the ultra-violent blood ‘n guts odyssey that is Kill Bill.

Viewers of the first instalment will know what to expect, then. Flying limbs, spurting blood, faceless warriors and not much else. Those who enjoy such cinematic luxuries as a plot, some acting or heaven help us – a script, were advised by me to take a magnifying glass along to the multiplex, as these elements were damned hard to find in that initial two hour death marathon.

But never one to let us sink into our comfort zones, QT has moved the celluloid goal posts once again, and has now got a whole new package to offer the hungry film fan - one that gives us nearly everything we could ask for.

Rock dwellers may need a plot summary, and in this case it’s mercifully short. Uma Thurman plays The Bride, a highly trained martial arts specialist gunned down on her wedding day by the Deadly Viper Assassins – a motley crew of evil sword wielding maniacs. After rising from a four year coma (those bullets to the head can really mess up your day), she sets out on her mission to Kill the lot of them, including their leader, Bill.

The first film gave away so little about who these people were, and why they were so hell bent on pursuing these extreme actions, it was hard to really engage with the story at all. But Vol. 2 opens with an absolute blinder of a classic QT scene, and immediately we know we’re in for something very different this time round.

Beautifully shot in dazzling monochrome, we find The Bride and her betrothed in the wedding chapel, running through their final rehearsal. Thurman is all smiles, coquettishness and every inch the blushing bride. Hubby is sweet, dim and in love. With Samuel L Jackson on the piano and the dust of El Paso flickering desolately in the desert outside, we’re in Tarantino heaven. Minor character parts burn up the screen and the dialogue is heavy with irony and humour.

The Bride – heavily pregnant – needs air. She steps outside and who should be sitting by the roadside, playing a flute and looking enigmatic? Viewers, meet Bill.

The confrontation that follows is as taut as a wire, and more pregnant than the Bride herself. It’s all about the acting, all about the dialogue, and even as the gunplay kicks in, the camera swoops away and the fight reaches its climax behind solid walls.

As the film progresses, we are swept from one landscape to another – from the desert dustbowl of Barstow to the lush mountains of China. From cheap ‘titty bars’ to the most lavish hotel in Mexico.

We meet the remaining Vipers and we gasp as Thurman dispatches them as systematically as if she were shelling peas. (Or does she? There’s a question mark in the end credits that may raise an eyebrow.)

We meet Budd, played in lovely gone-to-seed style by the hangdog Michael Madsen. An alcoholic strip club bouncer, this guy has run to fat and fallen down on his luck since the glamour of his Viper days. He’s even pawned his precious sword. But just as our sympathy is engaged, Budd gives us a blast of violence that would be truly unnerving if it wasn’t so cartoonlike.

At this point, if you have any tendency towards claustrophobia – hind behind those hands. As The Bride begs for her life, Budd cheerfully and casually trusses her up and buries her alive, six feet down in an exhumed grave. These scenes are filmed inside Thurmans coffin, and while we know deep down that somehow she’s got to get out or else there will be no more film left for us to watch, the moments before she escapes are truly difficult to watch.

Darryl Hannah also earns her paycheque here as Elle Driver - heartless, soulless, murdering bitch. Without any of Thurman’s charm or vulnerability, but with every inch of her steely determination and instinct for ultra-violence, we are treated not to sword fight here, but to a knock-down, no holds barred girl-fight. Fists, kicks, hairpulling. Heads down toilets, walls kicked in, bodies flying. And with a climactic final flick of the Bride’s claw-like hand, we have the most yuck-making moment I’ve ever seen on screen. Suffice to say that Driver starts the film with one eye, and goes home with one less than that. YEEEEUUUCH!!!!

It’s all done in the worst possible taste though, and with endless cutaways and ‘spaghetti western’ moments that take away any disturbing undertone.

The film reaches its emotional climax when Thurman finally comes face to face with the daughter she never knew she had. The child is played by a ludicrously charming and pretty little girl, and our Bride falls instantly in maternal love. I can’t say I was blown away by Thurmans emotional range here - she's at her best in fighting mode - but these scenes are shared with the nuclear charisma explosion that is David Carradine, and as such our attention is otherwise engaged anyway.

I’m not sure how I feel about the inclusion of a child in this film. Yes, she gives instant comprehension to the story, and provides the means of supplying a neat ending to the film – but I was slightly uncomfortable with her sweet innocence playing so close to all the guns, swords and fist fighting. She doesn’t share the screen with any violent moments, but she certainly shares the film with some. Well, judge for yourself. She certainly is very cute either way.

Carradine comes into all his grizzled glory as the final ‘truth serum’ enhanced scenes reveal yet more about these characters backgrounds and motivations. It’s an uncomfortable ride. These two hardened militia seem to be teetering on the edge of friendship, even love. But at any moment, they can and will seek the opportunity to wreak bloody and fatal vengeance on the other.

I won’t give you the ending, but as I’m feeling bounteous I’ll give you the end credits – both sets of ‘em.

The first lot feature all the actors from both films, in ‘Dallas’ style, with their names appearing under their close-ups. The second lot are a wistful throwback to the days of black and white movies, with a beautifully rendered old-style credit sequence that draws heavily from Hitchcock and his like.

As we’d expect, these are accompanied by the blistering tunes we now associate with Tarantino’s work, and only a fool would leave their seat before the very last note.

For many, Kill Bill Vol. 2 will offer the ultimate cinema-going experience. Tarantino continues to push the boundaries, offering us something utterly different to anything else available in this multiplex era. His stylish and humourous pop culture references never let up, and the performances he extracts from his grizzled cast are unfailingly fresh and dazzling. The well known faces make us wish we knew them even better, and the unknowns make us wonder where the hell these actors have been all this time – and when we’ll have the pleasure of meeting them again.

He's well known for rescusitating dead careers, and prepare to see Carradine's face in absolutely everything from now on. This guy is like a cross between Bill Nighy, Oliver Reed and Orson Welles. Carved from sheer granite, his face speaks a thousand words even when totally still.

OK, it’s not a perfect film. Like Madsens ageing belly, the ending scenes are frankly bloated and could do with some diet and exercise. And the violent moments will be difficult for some to take – eyes shut may be your only option.

But if you want to see something that breaks the mould, and that doesn’t allow the viewer one complacent moment, then Vol 2 may just reach the parts that Tarantino’s first volume failed to satisfy.