Quentin Tarantino Writes Books Now
Near the end of 1993’s True Romance, that Quentin Tarantino-scripted echt-1990s gumbo of trash-film lore and pop culture nerdom tarted up with perfume-ad Tony Scott direction and just-cameoing A-list stars, the comic-store-clerk-turned-gunslinger-on-the-run Clarence (Christian Slater) meets with Hollywood producer Lee (Saul Rubinek) to finalize a drug deal. Immediately, Clarence launches into a diatribe about what cinema means to him.
What does Clarence not like? Merchant Ivory award films. “Safe, geriatric, coffee table dog shit.” What does he like? “Mad Max, that’s a movie. The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, that’s a movie. Rio Bravo, that’s a movie.” Lee—who just so happens to have made a Vietnam war flick which Clarence reveres—tips his cap to the young enthusiast: “We park our cars in the same garage.”
Given that Tarantino has called the script of his most autobiographical, Clarence can be read as his stand-in. Clarence also embodies the cinematic fan culture then coalescing. Within a few years, his dogmatic rage-screeding would become the coin of the
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