‘Reservoir Dogs’ (1992) launches Tarantino’s career with a quiet bang

Quentin Tarantino established Nineties Cool by combining the plotting and bang-bang action of the Seventies with a meta, knowing talkiness that arguably has not waned in popularity to this day. His first film (not counting a student project), “Reservoir Dogs” (1992) opens with Tarantino’s own character, Mr. Brown, analyzing at a diner with his suited diamond-thief colleagues how Madonna’s “Like a Virgin” is about a whore. And it’s a convincing case, if not delivered in the most classically poetic way.

(Although we can see in retrospect that Tarantino popularized meta indie filmmaking for years to come with “Reservoir Dogs,” the average filmgoer didn’t see it at the time. It only made $2.9 million in theaters. People were ready for him starting with 1994’s “Pulp Fiction,” which made $213.9 million.)

A filmmaker faces a challenge when putting rhythmic dialog front and center. It could so easily turn pretentious. (Do we really believe all these thieves listen to Madonna? Or must we accept it because the script says so?) You can end up with “Clerks” on a good day, “Swordfish” on a bad day. “Reservoir Dogs” was mostly written on good days. The dialog often sings, and it has a cast of sopranos, most of whom are wondering which of the group set them up on the diamond-exchange heist that went wrong.

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(In a precise contrast to this year’s “Den of Thieves: Pantera,” the heist takes place entirely off screen. “Reservoir Dogs,” being low budget, uses the “tell don’t show” method. Again, you don’t want to do this unless you have great lines delivered by great actors.)

Or as Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi) puts it in the poetry of the gutter that Tarantino embraces to such a degree that even Raymond Chandler might’ve cringed: “If someone’s sticking a red-hot poker up my ass, I wanna know whose name is on the handle.”

From Blaxploitation to Mr. Pink-sploitation

Structurally, Seventies crime films and TV – an era from which this script’s banter pulls TV’s “Get Christie Love!,” a knockoff of “Foxy Brown” – aren’t necessarily known for the crispest plotting. (Interestingly, all of “Reservoir Dogs’ ” main characters are white men. But scholars have pointed out that they speak in the rhythms of black people.) In fact, they are known (and admired) for being rough around the edges, because in order to exploit something that’s popular, you gotta crank it out.

So it might be missing the point to criticize “Reservoir Dogs” for how the plot flows, but unquestionably Tarantino makes a controversial decision. The plot’s big question is raised in the third major vignette – following the “Like a Virgin”/tipping etiquette analysis and Mr. White (Harvey Keitel) driving the gut-shot Mr. Orange (Tim Roth) to the fallback warehouse. The cops were on the robbery scene inexplicably fast, so Mr. Pink is obsessed with finding out who the rat among the group is.

(SPOILERS FOLLOW.)

Tarantino chooses to answer the question at the end of Act II, rather than the end of the whole movie. Granted, it does allow for a surprising moment, where Mr. Orange – who we’ve forgotten about to the degree of the dead guy in the “Saw” bathroom — blows away Michael Madsen’s Mr. Blonde (so psychotic that even the rest of the bad guys hate him).

In saving the life of the captive cop who Mr. Blonde was torturing, Mr. Orange reveals that he is also a cop. The film’s mystery is answered. So then we get a third act that, while entertaining and not exactly predictable, lacks that driving force of mystery.

(END OF SPOILERS.)

The morality of the gutters

Told out of narrative order but without confusion, “Reservoir Dogs’ ” second reason for being – after pop-culture wit that’s witty enough to forgive – is to examine the incongruous but plausible morality of those whose crisp suits are spattered in blood. Keitel perhaps gives the film’s best performance, as Mr. White truly does care about the pained Mr. Orange, who will die if not gotten to a doctor soon.

(Ironically, it’s Mr. White’s very decency that makes a hospital visit impossible. Even the panicked Mr. Pink – this film’s answer to Bill Paxton in “Aliens” – for a moment agrees that they should take Mr. Orange to the hospital. But then he learns Mr. White has told Mr. Orange his real name and hometown in moments of camaraderie. Hence, it’s now too big of a risk.)

On my first viewing years ago, I categorized “Reservoir Dogs” (and most of Tarantino’s catalog) as too violent. On this viewing, it doesn’t bother me too much. Yes, it’s shocking how the white-upholstered car is slathered with red as Mr. Orange bleeds in the back seat, in the second vignette. And later Mr. Orange is soaked in a pool of his own blood, simply lying in the warehouse.

That said, all of the precise moments of violence happen off-screen. While there’s no denying Mr. Blonde is terrifying as he gleefully tortures the cop for fun, “Reservoir Dogs” is, strictly speaking, not particularly exploitative in the arenas of gore and schlock shock. A legit artistic comparison can be made between “Psycho’s” Shower Scene, “Texas Chain Saw’s” Hook Scene and this film’s Ear Scene. We’re disturbed by what’s implied, not strictly by what is shown. (And that, of course, is enough. I’m just saying Tarantino isn’t gleefully frolicking in showers of blood.)

I can see why Tarantino felt so fresh to his 1992 fans who were slightly younger than him and didn’t get the Seventies references. “Reservoir Dogs” is an exciting calling card for what’s to come (“Pulp Fiction” also has a mystery percolating beneath crime-film style and knowing winks). Lost in time and a towering influence on crime drama that has surpassed its own influences is the reality that it’s an imperfectly structured mystery.

IMDb Top 250 trivia

• “Reservoir Dogs” ranks No. 100 on the list with an 8.3 rating.
• Three Tarantino films rank higher: “Pulp Fiction” (No. 8, 8.8), “Django Unchained” (No. 53, 8.5) and “Inglourious Basterds” (No. 69, 8.4).
• Despite being largely ignored upon its release, it’s now the highest-rated 1992 film.