20 years later, there’s hard to say something new about a movie that hasn’t been said many times over. However, The Whole Bloody Affair, the long fabled supercut of Kill Bill Vol. 1 (2003) & Vol. 2 (2004) does inspire a worthy re-examination. Not just to contextualize its place in cinema history, but also to track how sensibilities have changed about the movie itself and the filmmakers behind it. The wide release of the film conveniently comes at a time where cinephiles are still patiently waiting for the 10th film of Quentin Tarantino, a picture that he says will be his last directorial effort. The exact number is of some significance in this instance, as Tarantino has always maintained that he never intended the Kill Bill flicks to be separate films, forced to separate the story into two movies to appease the studio’s want of a shorter runtime and more box office dollars. But to Tarantino, he still sees it as one movie, thus maintaining Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019) as his “9th” feature.
The jist of this classic film is it combines two of Tarantino’s greatest loves – kung fu movies and exploitation flicks. The trick of the formula being The Bride (Uma Thurman) is subjected to a number of scenarios that have victimized women in the exploitation genre, and she seeks her revenge for said acts by way of her martial arts mastery. If only the likes of Mari Collingwood had a master to teach them the art of self-defense. Thurman’s Bride is betrayed by her scorned ex-lover Bill (David Carradine), who sics his Deadly Viper Assassin Squad on the unsuspecting woman, killing her Fiancé and nearly fatally wounding her and her unborn child. Awakened from a four year coma, after years of unconscious sexual abuse while in medical care, The Bride sets out to hunt down the Viper gang one by one, hoping to kill them all before finally setting her sights on the savvy and sadistic Bill.
Before getting to the star of the show, The Bride herself, it’s interesting to look at the psychology of Bill. He’s a one of one as a screen antagonist, capable of unspeakable crimes but guided by a complex moral compass and surprising perception of fairness. While he admittedly is susceptible to violent outbursts, his inner psyche is more civilized and refined than that. His adherence to certain codes of honor hints at a man with a well-traveled and well-learned past, replete with a sense of humor that hides his more sinister nature. The film opens with him inflicting words and acts of violence no human should be objected to, yet the narrative sees him slowly grow to regret, or at least reconsider, these actions. He’s a weathered man approaching the end of his life, not a spry lunatic in his prime, and that key detail may signal why he’s able to look at his horrific actions from the perspective of his victim.
The Whole Bloody Affair reminds us how much Carradine crushes this role with a cavalier arrogance. I don’t recall him raising his voice the entire 4+ hour runtime, but his menace and sense of control of the situation never wavers. Beyond just his belittling of The Bride, even small moments displays an air of knowing smart-assery. When Bill’s brother Budd (Michael Madsen) scoffs at the name of the Crazy 88 gang, Bill calmly and dismissively remarks that “I guess they thought it sounded cool.” A basic line on paper, given breath and novel energy by Carradine’s nonchalant demeanor. He would be admirably cool if he wasn’t such a despicable person – I guess we know how The Bride could fall in love with such a guy.
Tarantino’s depiction of the dynamic between his two leads perhaps (intentionally or unintentionally) somewhat mirrors his own relationship with his actors. Particularly the women he chooses to feature – no doubt Tarantino has gone on nerdy rants for the actresses he intends to impress with his extensive film knowledge. The way Bill thinks of himself as an all-knowing shepherd, here to offer words of wisdom to his muse, is reminiscent of how Tarantino talks about movies and how seriously he takes his relationships with actors. But while Bill is a worthy antagonist of fascinating analysis, Thurman’s performance is a tour de force. Equal parts vulnerable, witty, tough, sturdy, clever and athletic, The Bride is Thurman’s defining role and stands as one of the pluckiest and laudable protagonists of the 21st century. She doesn’t so much as steal scenes, given her ubiquitous screen time, than she moreso meets the challenge of matching the screen presence of a never-ending parade of eccentric foes, aura farmers, and character actors.
In other words, it’s difficult to be a protagonist in a Tarantino film, against his roster of uniquely written characters, and not get blown off the screen – yet Thurman manages her own and then some. She has the range to sell the intense action elements of the film, while falling deep into the more tender moments when it’s appropriate. To make nothing of the character’s wry sense of sarcasm. Her quest for vengeance is challenged by a litany of vicious foes. From the fireball of violent energy that is Gogo (Chiaki Kuriyami), O-Ren’s (Lucy Liu) calm and unnerving anger, to the rivalry with the vindictive and short-tempered Elle (Daryl Hannah), it’s a smorgasbord of charismatic psychopaths that The Bride must outsmart and outswing. Thurman has a similar chemistry with Vivica A. Fox, as well as Pai Mei (Gordon Liu) – the belligerent master who pushes The Bride to her physical limits.
To an extent, the original cuts of Vol. 1 & Vol. 2 stand so well as individual films, that smashing them together almost feels unfathomable. The Whole Bloody Affair does attempt to make the fusion more organic by removing a crucial, spoilerific cliffhanger that originally ended Vol. 1. In its place, the first part ends with The Bride sending a warning to Bill before a much needed intermission. What isn’t as needed is the character Buck, or his “P*ssy Wagon.” We get it’s placement in the movie, and how it adds to The Bride’s quest for revenge along with further establishing her cruel abuse and the fact that this moment is rock bottom for her in a multitude of ways. I even made mention earlier that Tarantino is clearly employing exploitation tropes for his protagonist to overcome.
But the scene came off as tasteless many years ago, and even moreso now. Combined with the sullying of Tarantino’s reputation and his own bizarre statements about sex in Hollywood. It comes off as a fetish we’re being subjected to, including the prolonged foot shot that ends this portion of the movie. It is by far the weakest part of the movie, and no, seeing Buck convulse violently on the ground isn’t entertaining or cathartic enough to make up for it.
Luckily, once that scene is over, The Whole Bloody Affair rarely fails to dazzle. Sure, the anime sequence of O-Ren’s past is even longer this time, and it wasn’t even a particularly strong portion of the saga to begin with. But you’re still seeing some tremendous animation, which also doubles as an opportunity for Tarantino to divulge his blood lust without going over into NC-17 territory. The film’s grandest moments are still as iconic as ever – an extended excursion in Tokyo brimming with gorgeous views, stellar soundtrack choices, and the film’s best action set-pieces. The burial sequence, flashback, and eventual resurrection, accompanied by the breathtaking Il Mercenario Ripresa composed by Ennio Morricone, is among the greatest sequences of Tarantino’s entire career.
The late Michael Madsen is incredibly compelling as the aimless Budd, the contrast of his double life as an assassin vs his disrespected existence in a lowly strip club grounds the epic tale within the absurdity of modernity. Daryl Hannah really makes you believe she hates Uma Thurman’s guts, and that it kills her inside just to relinquish the tiniest bit of acknowledgement of her rival’s talents. And we can go on and on and on. The Whole Bloody Affair is packed with such impeccable execution that it feels like such a cut shouldn’t exist. It is at once everything right and everything wrong about the singular voice leading its production, a showcase of cinematic love that is becoming more rare. It should be adorned with a 4K release some day, as it’s a preservation of art that is rarely duplicated. A celebration of grimy, violent, B movie madness in its most sophisticated package yet.
