Quentin
Tarantino and Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart may not seem to have much in
common, and let me assure lovers of high culture that I’m not going
to claim that the American director is as important or influential as the
famous Austrian composer. But I do think they are alike in one
interesting respect: there is a huge disconnect between their
personality and their work. Now I must admit that I’m basing my
knowledge of Mozart’s character largely on the film Amadeus.
I did once read a biography that confirmed he was actually a
womaniser and a spendthrift, but that’s kind of beside the point:
I’m not accusing Tarantino of such things. What I’m basing my
thesis on is really just the moment in the movie when F.Murray
Abraham as Salieri first encounters Tom Hulce as Mozart. He can’t
believe that this childish, asinine, foul-mouthed boy (it’s right
that he’s not played by a distinguished actor but by Hulce,
previously known to most people only for National
Lampoon’s Animal House)
is the one who creates this beautiful music he’s heard. Salieri
assumes God must be playing a practical joke on him.
Now
once again I’m not saying that Tarantino is asinine or childish.
But he is rather unprepossessing and gauche whenever you see him in
interviews. He is usually a very bad actor (although his small role
in Django Unchained,
with what I think was an Australian accent, was his best so far, and
I like the preposterous death he gives his character). And generally
he doesn’t come across well in person. It’s not just that he
hasn’t got the smoothness of an actor-director like George Clooney.
He hasn’t even got the quiet dignity of your average low-key
director who is comfortable only behind the camera. He talks a lot
but he’s not a good talker; listen to his DVD commentaries and
you’ll probably want to give up after 5 minutes. And sometimes he
can be positively cringe-inducing. I once saw behind-the-scenes
footage of him filming the famous John Travolta-Uma Thurman dance
scene in Pulp Fiction
and when he got up and started boogeying around - to show them
how to do it! - it was like your most embarrassing great uncle making
a fool of himself at a family party.
And
yet his films are nearly always wonderful. Not just good, they’re
usually way ahead of the competition. I didn’t think Django
Unchained was one of
his very best, yet still it has to be one of the year’s top 5
because his scenes and characters are so damn vivid. The movie is
alive in a way so much other cinema isn’t. George Clooney, who has
directed quite a few very good films, would kill to be able to direct
the way Tarantino does. And for me only Michael Haneke challenges
him for the accolade of most important director to have emerged
since 1990. Like Haneke, Tarantino is also a great writer. The
sophistication of the time-scheme in Pulp
Fiction alone would
qualify him for that designation. And one of the films he’s only
written, True
Romance, is an
underrated gem. He's got a flair for using music in a startling and witty way. He casts brilliantly and
gets amazing performances out of actors. His ability to build tension
is unparalleled. Two amazing scenes in Inglorious
Basterds are amongst
the many in his work that testify to that: the opening scene in the
farmhouse and the Michael Fassbender scene in German in the
underground bar. And from Reservoir
Dogs to Django,
when Tarantino does violence, it’s just better than when any other
director does it: more kinetic, more explosive, more shocking.
So
that’s why I make the Mozart analogy, or at least the Amadeus
analogy. Surely a few other directors in Hollywood have looked on
with envy and asked: how can this doofus be such a cinematic genius?
