Grindhouse Premieres, Austin Style

Apr 02, 2007,  C. Robert Cargill

It was a muggy spring evening, typical of late March in Texas, and at almost an hour past the printed start time people were still filing in. The Texas Rollergirls had arrived in a strange mix of ball gowns, tattoos and roller skates, and pretty much everyone and anyone on the Austin filmmaking scene had shown up for what was sounding like the event of the season. The music lowered, a woman came out to give us the usual preamble – and then Robert and Quentin strode out proudly on stage. Their faces were excited, satisfied grins looking out over the sellout crowd. Quentin was so excited he began yelling into his microphone. And that's where things got kooky.

You see, Quentin is REALLY proud of his movie. It's his love letter to Austin, his second home. His home away from home. So he wanted to show the world some of his favorite places in the world. And he really wanted Austinites to scream as loud as humanly possible every single time we recognized one. Yeah. You're starting to get the picture. As both films were shot entirely here in Austin, actually hearing the film over shrieking roller girls became something of a Herculean feat.

Fortunately, Grindhouse was everything it should have been. While my brother from another mother, Laremy, talks about his fears for the box office of Grindhouse right here, his analysis ignores one thing. Grindhouse is not a movie. It's not meant to be a movie. Grindhouse is an experience. Grindhouse is a night out. Grindhouse is something you set out to do with a bunch of friends – not just something new to sit and watch. And it pays off. It's fun and one hell of a ride. Rodriguez's Planet Terror is really one big long joke – but it's a really good joke. Tarantino, on the other hand, only tells half of a joke, then realizing that it's starting to not be that funny anymore, turns in a killer, neck-breaking final act that delivers one of the best and most inventive two-car chases ever filmed.

Now, if you've never been to an after-party, rule number one is don't expect to talk to the director or stars. It's exactly like attending the wedding of a close friend. All they have time for is a handshake and a "Congratulations, I'm having a great time," before running off for a photo op with Aunt Mable. But for those who dropped some serious cash with dreams of doing body shots off of Rose McGowan's navel while trading guitar-picking tips with Rodriguez, well, there was only disappointment as they discovered there was a V.I.P. party and a V.I.P. party. However, there were two guys forsaking that distinction and making the rounds. Danny Trejo, enjoying his moment in the sun as the star of Rodriguez's faux trailer (and rumored future project). Now, when I caught site of Trejo, I bellowed out "MACHETE!" and a diabolical grin flashed across his face. He walked up, shook my hand and began introducing himself to everyone. As if he had to. That's just how cool Danny Trejo is. And Tarantino himself, who seemed to ignore the V.I.P. section altogether, mixed it up with his fans and the local luminaries who had shown up to support the boys. He was all over the place until he'd made his way over to the table of his longtime friend and film critic Harry Knowles.

From that point on, that's where the party was. By night's end, as the club was being cleared out, many folks could be found draining glasses while listening to Tarantino and Knowles reference and sub-reference one another into a realm where few film geeks could follow, myself included. They speak in some kind of geek Morse Code, singing theme songs to films that have never been made available on videocassette, let alone DVD. That's where it ended. After a few too many movie references and security telling us that it was well past closing, we emptied into quiet streets to split up and go our separate ways. The Grindhouse experience was over with – for now.

C. Robert Cargill - - - Email Me
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Austin-based Cargill, who not only loves but owns The Cutting Edge, writes on movies and DVD two times a week.