Kill Bill: Vol. 2 is a tricky movie to evaluate.
It isn't a sequel -- writer-director Quentin Tarantino shot the second half of Kill Bill concurrently with the first, which was released last October -- but it still feels like one.
Tarantino introduces several new characters and exposition in the film, which, for those of you who missed the first one, is about a would-be Bride's sword-swinging attempts to exact revenge on an ex-lover and his cohorts who murdered her entire wedding party.
Oddly, it's Vol. 2 that looks, in comparison, like the tightly written -- if slow-moving -- original, and Vol. 1 like the overblown, souped-up sequel.
Years from now, I might sit down with the Kill Bill DVDs and realize that they indeed work best as one sprawling 200-odd minute epic. But, as of right now, I immensely prefer the sloppy brilliance of Vol. 1.
Most of that film's greatness stemmed from the virtuoso work done in post-production. Tarantino cut Vol. 1 with unceasingly stimulating cinematic verve, especially in the synching of his weird, catchy soundtrack with quirky post effects such as slow-motion and split-screen photography.
Vol. 2 uses some of the same techniques, but it betrays the first film's joyous energy in favor of some misguided plotting and high-minded self-importance.
Just like Vol. 1, this film is composed of mostly backstory. Unfortunately, the backstory here's nowhere near as engaging. Whereas in Vol. 1 we were treated to O-Ren's dazzling anime origin sequence, in 2 we get a been-there training montage that feels like it's lacking a final segment and some all-too-obvious red-herring business involving Michael Madsen's laconic portrayal of hillbilly assassin Budd.
The pacing is rushed where it ought to be meticulous and, more often, drags where it needs to be deliberate.
For example, the opening chapter, titled "The Massacre at Two Pines," chronicles the last moments before the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad crashed the Bride's wedding.
The scene, which includes some half-hearted attempts at humor and a ridiculous cameo by Samuel L. Jackson, runs far too long, and since Vol. 1 already established what happens to these characters, the meandering manner in which the scene unfolds is frustrating.
The main problem with Vol. 2, though, is its pretentiousness. Vol. 1, as it demonstrated right from the Klingon-quoting first frame, had no delusions that it was anything more than tongue-in-cheek kung-fu pastiche. In Vol. 2, however, Tarantino takes the pulp backdrop and refashions it into the pseudo-artsy character piece it really shouldn't have tried to be.
There isn't nearly enough substance to Bill or the Bride to warrant the prominence Tarantino grants their relationship within the narrative. All of their scenes together are overtly contrived to reveal either key plot points or Tarantino's broadly symbolic musings about identity.
The ultimate showdown between Bill and the Bride is a letdown for those who expected the seminal sword-fighting spectacular that the momentum of the film(s) promised. The result of their encounter is an ironic wink at the audience that is more alienating than rewarding.
All this being said, Vol. 2 isn't exactly a bad movie; there's plenty of moderately funny humor as well as some wow-inducing surprises.
It's just quite a comedown from the lofty B-movie pedestal on which Vol. 1 still stands alone.
