Weekend Top Ten #744
Top Ten Quentin Tarantino Characters
I didn’t intend for this week’s list to be topical; it was just one of those I had planned to get around to at some point. But then good old Sir Quentin of Tarantino went and opened his mouth again – or, rather, wrote an article for Sight and Sound – and suddenly Captain Grumpychops is back in the news.
Yes, in yet another move that solidifies his ascent from Wunderkind Auteur to Whingebag Elitist, Tarantino has been slagging off, well, everything. Pretty much everything he sees, he says, is a load of crap from “the sausage factory that used to be called Hollywood”. Apart from The Rip; he really liked The Rip. And that’s fine; it’s good. But I bet Tarantino sees a lot more films than me and I’d still only rank The Rip the fourth-best film I’ve seen this year, and that’s if we class Hamnet as a 2025 release.
Now, it’s not impossible, but he might be thinking this because Matthew Lillard is in everything at the moment. Who can say. It’s a mystery.
Anyway, Tarantino’s decision to become essentially the worst version of an Ain’t It Cool News reviewer is incredibly disappointing because it does overshadow just how good most of his films are (at least he’s not shilling for AI companies, though, eh, Marty?). And Tarantino was really good (I mean, he still is I suppose, but he doesn’t show it as much these days). In the nineties, he was a firebreathing shot to the system, a punch in the jaw of Hollywood. I think the nineties indie boom would have happened regardless (Miramax was doing its thing – and, sadly, so was Harvey Weinstein), but Tarantino’s blend of highbrow cineliteracy, pop cultural joie de verve, and genuine directing chops – plus his penchant for effs, jeffs, and deaths – not only made his films stand out but also influenced virtually the entire decade. I was listening to the Space album Tin Planet recently, and I’d forgotten how even British bands had this weird Tarantino/sweary crime fetish at the time. It was everywhere; everything from The Usual Suspects to Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels was perceived to be under his influence, and people like Danny Boyle were declared “the British Tarantino”. The kind of quirky character actors he loved – yer Steve Buscemis and yer Ving Rhames – starred in major blockbusters like Armageddon and Mission: Impossible. He could, it seemed, do no wrong.
Apart from maybe his acting.
Anyway – again – one thing he’s always been very good at, even in his latter years, is creating compelling and interesting multifaceted characters. Yeah, okay, sometimes he does allow them to become ciphers or archetypes – everyone in Death Proof apart from Stuntman Mike feels a bit like a nondescript voice he’s writing to move the plot somewhere, and The Hateful Eight revels so much in its cast’s darkness that it forgets to us a reason to care about any of them, and almost all his films post-Jackie Brown are too long and a bit self-indulgent – but you cannot deny not only does Tarantino create excellent characters, he then gets excellent actors to inhabit them, and often directs those actors to Oscar glory (especially as Samuel L. Jackson really should have won for Pulp Fiction).
So this list, then, is just me ranking my favourite characters from Quentin Tarantino films. It’s that simple. And maybe at some point he’ll pull his finger out and make his supposed “final” film, and who knows? We could add another character to this list. Although looking over it again, virtually everyone here is from his first three films, so, er, I dunno. Maybe not?
Ten: Pumpkin and Honey Bunny (Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
Yeah, okay, a twofer again; I’m always doing this. But Pulp’s opening (and closing!) First Couple of Crime are a delightful pair to spend time with. They banter with the lived-in fashion of a pair of old marrieds; they joke and compliment each other. And they seem utterly, totally devoted to one another. Forget Cliff Booth, I wanna know what these crazy cats are up to now.
Nine: Vincent Vega (John Travolta, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
The ostensible lead of Pulp is outwardly suave and cool, but underneath he’s a bit of a screw-up with – let’s be honest – a heroin problem. But his bundle of contradictions and complexities – his ageing-seventies-rockabilly vibe that’s part Elvis and part Dog Day Afternoon – all combine to create someone who feels nuanced and engaging. Plus he’s full of interesting facts about European fast food retailers.
Eight: Mr. White (Harvey Keitel, Reservoir Dogs, 1992)
Amongst a cast of unrepentant criminals, Mr. White is the one who appears to have some genuine honour. He’s got a moral code, which is more than can be said for the murderous likes of Mr. Blonde or Nice Guy Eddie. He – fatally, tragically – sticks up for Mr. Orange, leading to the film’s infamous climactic stand-off. His face when the truth dawns and he realises the scale of the loss is heartbreaking, despite the fact that White is, basically, a bad guy and has just murdered the good guy. A terrific performance from Keitel.
Seven: Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson, Django Unchained, 2012)
Amongst Tarantino’s stable of criminals and low-lifes, Stephen is a particular piece of work. A slave who’s utterly devoted to his master, who metes out violence and racist abuse to other slaves; who is not only complicit in the horrific system that’s ensnared him, but wholly supportive of it. He’s a villain and a monster, but also tragic, and the fact Jackson wasn’t even nominated for the role is astounding; it’s arguably his best performance.
Six: Beatrix “The Bride” Kiddo (Uma Thurman, Kill Bill: Volume 1, 2003)
The protagonist of the two Kill Bills (Kills Bill?) is a fantastic presence; enigmatic and cool, a force to be reckoned with but also seeming open, empathetic, warm. She’s not some grumpy taciturn No Name type; she’s utterly convincing as an elite assassin, but we also root for her emotionally despite the brutality she’s meting out. There’s also a lot of comedy in the performance, Thurman nailing the balance between badass killer and goofy action star.
Five: Butch Coolidge (Bruce Willis, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
What I love about Butch is how his layers are slowly unpeeled. He’s a gone-to-seed corrupt boxer, paid to take a dive; but then we see he’s actually aiming at something more nuanced but a lot riskier. He has, it seems, a more romantic soul where boxing is concerned; and in his love life, too, where he’s a great big soppy mess with his girlfriend. Both his temper and his sentimentality get him into trouble, but thankfully his resourceful badassery gets him out of it; and that honour comes back into the fray when he makes the fateful decision to save Marsellus Wallace’s life. See? Layered!
Four: Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi, Reservoir Dogs, 1992)
The face that launched a thousand memes, beloved miniature violin player Mr. Pink is Reservoir Dogs’ own Shaggy Rogers: a loveable coward who’s also the source of much comedy. Whether it’s his missive about tipping or his grumpiness over his name (“Mr. Pink sounds like Mr. Pussy”), he’s a laughable little sourpuss. The fact that his whingey ways very nearly lead to him being the only dog left alive with the diamonds is perhaps testament to his tenacity.
Three: Jackie Brown (Pam Grier, Jackie Brown, 1997)
I’ll always maintain that Jackie Brown is Tarantino’s most mature work, a slightly more stripped-back and sombre tale of ageing, regret, and second chances. Jackie herself is wonderfully human, a woman who’s lived a life but in middle-age feels she’s drifted; Grier gives her strength and dignity but also a humane sadness. Her relationship with Robert Forster’s Max Cherry is beautiful, two old(er) souls connecting as they pass in different directions.
Two: Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
Mia isn’t really in Pulp all that much, but she leaves a hell of a mark. Something of a chaos agent, we’re always at a loss to her true motives, but we see so much bubbling beneath the surface. She’s a smart cookie, aware of her position and how other people view her, but unafraid to be herself. There’s a darkness, perhaps, underneath her vibrant exterior; not only the drugs but also a sense of needing to be busy, needing to have fun all the time. Still, this adds to her character, makes her interesting; and let’s face it, every moment she’s on screen is, at the very least, interesting.
One: Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson, Pulp Fiction, 1994)
Absolutely my favourite and it isn’t even close; a stunning star-making turn from an actor who might have already thought stardom had totally passed him by. Jules is cool, innately and utterly; from his hair to his boots. He gets awesome lines that Jackson chews up like tobacco and spits out like shell casings. But. But! He also gets to do an about-face, really grow and change, reflect on his gangsterhood and contemplate a path away from violence. And he does all this whilst still looking and sounding cool and giving us great dialogue in Jackson’s signature style. That’s my bad motherfu