This film alone can make you forgive Ocean’s 12 and 13 in one satisfying go. Elmore Leonard’s tale of charming bank robbers and sexy US marshals is confidently brought to the screen in a way that makes you almost, ALMOST consider Jackie Brown to be the ugly stepchild that’s beaten in the attic.
Everything is cool and smooth throughout the film’s 2 hour running time:
- George Clooney – Cool
- Jennifer Lopez – Smooth
- Ving Rhames – Cool
- That guy in the background in the first street scene – Well, he doesn’t have any dialogue and he’s just an extra, but I bet if he had something to say it would be cool, sassy, smart and punctuated with a freeze frame
The only person who doesn’t come off overtly cool is Mr Samuel Jackson, whose appearance at the end seems to be nothing more than a wink to the Tarantino fans. In addition, it makes you realise that Jackson appearing at the tail end of movies wasn’t just something he’s saved for whatever feature Marvel Productions is shitting out next.
The romance that blossoms between Lopez and Clooney feels natural and it clearly bathes in the reflected glory of previous films, in particular the 50s and 70s, that show that no matter the size of the bastard, he will get his girl. The soundtrack oozes class and you yearn for a time when all films were like this. And if there wasn’t a time, there should have been.
In any other time, this would have been a Steve McQueen and Pam Grier blockbuster.