[a black screen]
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Ya know, I never really liked cold openings in movies.
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: ’ The fuck’s a cold opening?
BRUCE WILLIS: Damned if I know.
JOHN TRAVOLTA: A cold opening is when a movie, just, you know, just starts, outta fuckin’ nowhere.
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Ah, you mean that narrative technique that motherfucker Quentin Tarantino is fond of using?
JOHN TRAVOLTA: The very same.
BRUCE WILLIS: No fuckin’ shit.
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Hey guys?
BRUCE WILLIS: What?
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Let’s pull out our guns and start yelling.
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Fine by me.
JOHN TRAVOLTA: WE HAVE FUCKING GUNS!
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Damn motherfuckin’ right we do, motherfuckers!
[freezeframe; fast-paced surfer-rock begins playing]
IN ASSOCIATION WITH THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY…
QUENTIN FUCKING TARANTINO
An article by Quentin Tarantino
About Quentin Tarantino
Samuel L. Jackson
& Bruce Willis
With a cameo by Quentin Tarantino
Written & Directed by Quentin Tarantino
Chapter Fucking One: Early Life
[a shot of Samuel L. Jackson and John Travolta driving in a car]
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: So wha’ do we got on this Tarantino cat, anyway?
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Full name’s Quentin Tarantino. He’s a contemporary filmmaker, best known for Pulp Fiction and—
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Nah nah nah, I know all that already. I mean, you know, early shit: where’d he grow up, where’d he go to school, when he lost his virginity, all that fuckin’ shit.
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: So that narrows it down to, what, half ’a fuckin’ Hollywood?
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Well, this Quentin cat was the first a’ all them.
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: That don’t make our job any easier.
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Nah, ’ suppose not. Wanna getta burger?
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Sounds good to me.
Chapter Fucking Two: Early Filmography
RANDOM BLACK GUY: So what’do’we got?
TIM ROTH: To get to Tarantino I’ve got to get through this Tierney guy.
RANDOM BLACK GUY: I see…use the Tarantino Monologue.
TIM ROTH: What?
RANDOM BLACK GUY: The Tarantino Monologue: an encyclopedic yet colloquial recounting of Tarantino’s career.
TIM ROTH: How’s the hell is that going to help?
RANDOM BLACK GUY: Just do it, motherfucker!
TIM ROTH: It all began rather inauspiciously: young, wide-eyed aspiring filmmaker writes a screenplay—the sort of thing that happens all the fucking time. Lucky for the filmmaker in question, the motherfucker gets it made into a movie. Not only that, but he gets to direct the thing, too, the lucky bastard. If ya haven’t guess by now, I’m talking about Quentin Tarantino and Reservoir Dogs. Now, Reservoir Dogs was a hit, man, and saw all sorts’a fuckin’ success, and Quentin Tarantino became Generation X’s favorite filmmaker. The only thing left for him to do was to make an even better, more successful film, and the fucker does just that: Pulp Fucking Fiction, man, Pulp Fucking Fiction. So here’s Tarantino, untouchable, on the top of the fucking world—seems like nothing could stop him.
Chapter Fucking Three: Cinematic Techniques & Style
CHRISTOPHER WALKEN: Quentin Tarantino…he likes…to use flashbacks…to help to tell the story. These flashbacks…provide…valuable insight…into the background and motivations of Tarantino’s characters. Tarantino is also fond of using…out-of-order exposition…to alter the way in which the audience perceives…the plot’s events unfold. By doing this…he actually emphasizes…the subjectivity of film as an art form…and…by extension…the subjectivity of human perception…which is actually an underlying theme…in most of his movies. Speaking of… Quentin Tarantino…he is here now.
QUENTIN TARANTINO: Alright, so this is just my fucking cameo, alright? I just like appearing in my own fucking movies, ’kay? Now wake up.
BRUCE WILLIS: Woah!
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: And what the fuck is your problem?
BRUCE WILLIS: I just…it was….
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Well, regardless, I hafta’ fuck this nigger up so he’ll fuckin’ tell us where our man is at.
[the camera pans to a tied-up Ving Rhames]
JOHN TRAVOLTA: Nah man, don’t be doing that, that’s black-on-black hate. You fuckin’ want Spike Lee comin’ over here and running his fat fuckin’ mouth?
SAMUEL L. JACKSON: Spike Lee? Pssssh! That nigger can suck my fuckin’ dick. Now for some obligatory borderline-sadistic violence, mother fuckers!
VING RHAMES: Mgghhh! Mmggghhhh!
Chapter Fucking Four: Filmography No One Fucking Cares About
It wouldn’t be all gumdrops for Tarantino forever, though: he made a bunch of really shitty movies. Four Rooms is a great big piece of fucking shit, ‘kay? If you haven’t seen it yet, don’t fucking bother. From Dusk to Dawn is pretty unimpressive, and Natural Born Killers fuckin’ sucks, though that’s mostly Oliver Stone’s fault. Oh, and Jackie Brown ain’t all the great, neither.
Chapter Fucking Five: Dialogue
STEVE BUSCEMI: Man, I don’ care what anyone says, but Booberry is hands-down the best Post brand Halloween cereal.
HARVEY KEITEL: And that, my good friend, is where you’re wrong—Count Chocula, forever and always.
STEVE BUSCEMI: Man, Count Chocula is such a fuckin’ clichéd cereal. For that matter, chocolate in general is one great big fuckin’ clichéd, ya’ know? Any dickweed wants to get his girlfriend something for Valentine’s Day, what’s he get? Chocolate.
HARVEY KEITEL: But that don’t mean that chocolate isn’t good.
STEVE BUSCEMI: Woah woah woah woah woah, hold everything, I never said chocolate wasn’t good, just that it was a cliché: those are two completely different fuckin’ things.
HARVEY KEITEL: So we’re in agreement then?
STEVE BUSCEMI: On the subject of chocolate, yes; on the subject of Booberry, no.
TIM ROTH: You and yo’ fuckin’ Booberry, man.
Chapter Fucking Six: Later Filmography
After making Jackie Brown, Tarantino didn’t do anything for about half a fuckin’ decade—folks in Hollywood all thought he was dead or hiding or some shit, ya know? Then—outta the fuckin’ blue—he decides to get back into the filmmakin’ business, and lemme tell ya, he became relevant again fuckin’ overnight, man, fuckin’ overnight. Anyway, he does this ‘Kill Bill’ project with Uma Thurman: Kill Bill Vol. 1 and Kill Bill Vol. 2. Ya see, they’re called “Vol. 1” and “Vol. 2” because they’re really one super big long fucking movie edited into two separate movies ‘cause Tarantino went about $40 million over budget and two hours over allotted running time, so there really wasn’t much the folks at Miramax could do besides make the thing into two separate pieces. It don’t matter, though, ‘cause Kill Bill’s a hit, man, a big fat fuckin’ hit, and Tarantino’s in the green again. For his next movie, he decides he’s gonna do the opposite of the ‘two separate movies’ thing, and he makes two movies that have nothin’ to do fuckin’ with each other, and makes them into one real big long fucking movie; calls it Grindhouse. To be fair, Quentin only did half of Grindhouse, the other half was Robert Rodriguez, who’s actually a lot like Tarantino except Tarantino ain’t a Spic and Rodriguez is. Anyway, Grindhouse don’t do so hot, but this time Quentin sticks around anyway, and gets to work on his next film called Inglourious Basterds. Apparently, he got the idea for the title working in his little shithole video store or whatever, but none’a that’s important—what is important’s that Basterds is about one fuckin’ thing, man: killin’ Nazis.
LAWRENCE TIERNEY: Hagh…[exhales cigar smoke]…now that’s what I call one accurate recounting of Tarantino’s film career.
Chapter Fucking Seven: Death
TIM ROTH: Quentin, there’s…there’s something I gotta tell ya, man. It’s the Weinsteins. They’ve…they’re…they’re cutting funding, man. They’re cutting funding…. I’m…I’m sorry, Quentin…Quentin….