Quentin Tarantino. Perhaps the most debated living director, uttering his name among film fans will most likely cause an uproar. Some consider him a hack — a lazy scene-stealing writer with a penchant for overusing violence in his films. Others, the majority, consider him a genius — one of the greatest and most influential living directors and a master entertainer.

I would agree with the latter, although his most recent work, the cartoonish historical parody kind, doesn't seem to be as strong as his early films.

Tarantino's films are sticks of dynamite. Infused with electric oft-quoted dialogue, unforgettable characters and graphic and excessive violence, a Tarantino film hits you in the gut like a punch, just before it grabs you by your hair and keeps you from looking away.

Tarantino's skill for pastiche and homage is unrivaled, making him known as "the director DJ." His influences range from old Asian cinema to spaghetti westerns to Italian horror films. His career path has had its twists and turns, but since it start in 1992, it's never stopped once. Despite the unforgettable "Pulp Fiction" or the darling and dangerous "Kill Bill," to me he's never been more raw and consistent than with his brilliant first effort "Reservoir Dogs," Tarantino's icy cool masterpiece about a botched heist and a gang of color-coordinated criminals.

"Reservoir Dogs," even from its first scene, screams iconic. A rambunctious, chatty group of criminals sit at a diner having breakfast together at a round table.


The camera spins around their discussion in a circular motion, with the topics ranging from the sexual innuendo in Madonna's "Like A Virgin" to the idea of "required" tipping when it comes to waitresses.

The criminals, pun intended, are quite the colorful bunch. There's Mr. White (Harvey Keitel), Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi), Mr. Blonde (Michael Madsen), Mr. Orange (Tim Roth), Mr. Brown (Quentin Tarantion) and Mr. Blue. Despite despite their obvious candid rapport, each of them are strangers to each other, handpicked individually by their boss Joe to rob a bank together. No names, no nothing. Do the job, split the loot and never see each other again. In a plot move that only Tarantino could make, the next scene is Mr. Orange in the back of a speeding car, bleeding to death, in Mr. White's arms. They heist has already happened and it's gone bad. The gang's beens scattered and instructed to rendezvous at a warehouse. Piece by piece, they attempt to pin down what and how it happened, and who of them, if any, is a police informant.

If I had to pinpoint what makes "Reservoir Dogs" so good is this: it's simple. Six guys. One job. One major location, the warehouse. Its structure is impeccable, the reveals staggered throughout the film perfectly. The direction here is masterful.

Each actor embodies their character with so much devotion and heart that it's hard to separate actor from character.

They're acting passionately here, and it's clear where that passion comes from: Tarantino.

Where Tarantino's work is headed in the future, I don't know, but I do know that "Reservoir Dogs" is absolutely one of the greatest films in the last 50 years. It's a simple story, simply shot, simply acted, but not simply told. It's explosive response at Sundance would solidify Tarantino as a director to watch out for and what a prescient statement that was. See this movie. You won't regret it.
