Rish Outfield's reviews
tyranist and I disagree a lot. People around us are often shocked by how alike we are, but we really couldn't be any differenter. For example, he's really smart and I use words like 'differenter.' He's level headed and I am insane. He is a family man and I could die in my bed and not be discovered for twenty years. And tyranist despises George Clooney, whom I adore (he also doesn't like Tom Hanks, the most likeable actor since Jimmy Stewart. [Editor's note: I also generally don't care for Jimmy Stewart.] Go figure).
But in spite of tyranist's handicap, he liked From Dusk Till Dawn. And for once, we agree. It's a bizarre mix of a bloody heist picture with a bloody monster flick, and somehow, the mix works (as it does, to a lesser extent, in its two sequels).
And you know what? I'm going to forego reviewing this movie. I think I'll say a few words about going to it in '96, but then I'll let you go about your business. When it was first released, I really wanted to see it. I loved Tarantino's Pulp Fiction, and I like vampires, and I found Salma Hayek to be not altogether unattractive. I had a roommate who I could often cajole into going to such things with me, and the day we were set to see it, he happened to mention it to a couple of Canadian girls that lived in our complex. Nothing against Canadians, but I wasn't overly fond of these two girls. They were creepy, prone to fits of spiteful bitterness, and said "Zed" when referring to the last letter of the alphabet. But my roommate went ahead and told them to come with us. He hoped that it was alright with me, and to any normal person, it would have been. But not me, you see, for I had seen movies with like-minded girls before and I didn't want to feel uncomfortable in their presence (I wanted to be able to laugh if something struck me funny, or cheer if something died in graphic horror film custom), plus, I feared their wrath. So, I attempted to talk them out of coming along with us. "You know, I've heard a lot of people don't like this movie. It's like 'Pulp Fiction:' it's not made for girls." "We'll like it," the little one (for one was tall and one was short) insisted. "Well, it IS Rated R," my roommate offered, knowing this rating was like Kryptonite for those raised where there was an extra M rating. "We don't care," said the other one, who sounded like she meant it. "I heard it's very violent," I warned them. "Somebody gets their hand blown off. Heads too." "That's alright," they said. They were planning to be dental assistants, so they were used to the sight of blood. "I think part of it takes place in a strip club," I warned them. "Nothing we haven't seen." My roommate warned them that we had also invited the Mexican guy from across the hall. They said they didn't mind, as long as he sat next to me. "Look," I finally said, "There's everything in this movie that will offend you. I heard Cheech Marin says the P-word thirty-seven times!" But nothing could dissuade them. It's funny, I couldn't get anyone but my sister to see Titanic with me, but the one time I don't want company, wild dingos can't chase them off.
So, we went. And yes, the movie is very violent. And Seth Gecko's brother does rape and mutilate some woman. And it was very profane. And there was some bare flesh gyrating in the bar. And I had a grand time, laughing twice as loud as necessary when I thought something was funny, absorbing all the irate glares and whispers from those girls. I liked From Dusk Till Dawn. But the drive home was Hell. The Canadians were incensed, unamused, and highly offended. They "had no idea" we were dragging them to a movie like that, completely devoid of merit or uplifting morals. It wasn't just violent--it was gory! The name of the bar was the--gasp!--Titty Twister, for the love of Celine Dion! And not only did the guy from "E.R." swear up a storm, another character said a particularly vile word what must have been twenty times!
And the thing that was the funniest (in retrospect, anyway . . . at the time I wasn't enjoying myself quite so much) was that they weren't angry at themselves for having bad judgment, they weren't angry at the Guy From Across the Hall for putting his arms around them as soon as the previews ended, they weren't angry at my roommate for inviting them, they were angry at one Rish Benjamin Outfield for choosing a movie that offended them. They'd never go to a movie with me again, and never look at me the same way. I don't believe I apologized to them, and I think I got angry myself when I heard them claim innocence in the matter (we never did get along much after that), but whenever I think of From Dusk Till Dawn, which is still a great movie, I always have to think of that night, made much more memorable for unwelcome guests than it ever would have been otherwise.

The tyranist's thoughts
I hate George Clooney and prior to sitting down to see this movie, I had never seen him in anything I liked. As I understand it, this goes against popular opinion by quite a large margin, but it is a fact nonetheless. With my loathing in mind then, I am going to tell you that for this one shining moment, George Clooney was the baddest man on the planet.
Two brothers on the lam--and a killing spree--head for Mexico and sanctuary. Just over the border they stop at a bar with their hostages to wait for dawn. And what a bar it is.
Halfway between the new ultra-violent tradition and the standard horror film, I find this particular movie to be intriguing and vastly entertaining. There are very few moments that do not drive the plot in some way and everything is scripted with an elegance that is unusual for a movie containing so many vampires. This new ultra-violent tradition, which is something that I believe lies somewhere between the old westerns and film noir, seems to really blend into the horror well and I look forward to seeing more of this combination.
If you haven't seen this one, you owe it to yourself to check it out. Even if you hate George Clooney.