Quentin Tarantino’s two-volume epic is a postmodern orgy of blood, music and quintessential QT kitsch. An homage to some of the director’s favorite genres — kung fu, exploitation and spaghetti westerns — Kill Bill tells the story of the Bride (Uma Thurman), who used to be the most dangerous member of a crew of assassins called the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad, led by Bill (a remarkably cool David Carradine). Upon realizing that she is pregnant, the Bride decides to ditch the killing game and settle down to a normal life with a record-store geek. This doesn’t sit well with the rest of the gang, particularly former flame Bill.
Without ruining all of the film for you, it is essentially a bloodthirsty rampage of revenge that takes the Bride from California to Japan to Mexico, where she slices up countless goons, cuts off the top of Lucy Liu’s head and plucks out Daryl Hannah’s eyeball in the process. Making no effort to be subtle — the blood squirts by the gallons and bodies are dismembered by the dozens — the violence is so caricaturish and campy, it’s the kind that the whole family can enjoy. Or not.
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