Jules Winnfield and Vincent Vega are two hitmen who are out to retrieve a suitcase stolen from their employer, mob boss Marsellus Wallace. Wallace has also asked Vincent to take his wife Mia out a few days later when Wallace himself will be out of town. Butch Coolidge is an aging boxer who is paid by Wallace to lose his next fight. The lives of these seemingly unrelated people are woven together comprising of a series of funny, bizarre and uncalled-for incidents. Written by
In the scene where Vincent picks Mia up from Marsellus's house, the record needle lifting off the turntable (as Dusty Springfield's "Son Of A Preacher Man" cuts off abruptly) is on an Audio Technica P-mount cartridge; an inexpensive item, in an otherwise lavish house. See more »
In the beginning diner scene when Yolanda and Ringo are about to rob the place, Yolanda yells "...and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of you". At the ending diner scene (which should be the exact same), she yells "...and I'll execute every one of you motherfuckers". This is to show different perceptions of the same event. The first being Yolanda's and Ringo's and the last being Jules' See more »
Forget it. Too risky. I'm through doing that shit.
You always say that. That same thing every time, "I'm through, never again, too dangerous".
I know that's what I always say. I'm always right, too.
But you forget about it in a day or two.
Yeah, well the days of me forgetting are over, and the days of me remembering have just begun.
See more »
The coffee shop manager in the robbery scene at the end is credited as "Coffee Shop" because he is cut off as he speaks: "I am not a hero, I'm just a coffee shop--" See more »
Pulp Fiction, despite borrowing from just about every movie ever made, is the most invigorating cinema experience a filmgoer can ever hope for. Its hodgepodge of violence, mayhem, and generally deviant behavior is an assault on the senses, not to mention political correctness. However, despite all the film's cleverness and style, it hinges on the performance put forth by Samuel L. Jackson as Jules. The fact that he was denied an Oscar is a downright shame. Martin Landau, the best supporting actor winner that year, was terrific and funny in Ed Wood, but Jackson was perhaps the most commanding screen presence in film history as the bible-quoting, godfearing hitman. The last scene in the coffee shop with Tim Roth still sends chills down my spine, no matter how many times I've seen it. Rumors of a prequel involving Jules and Vincent (John Travolta) have been floating around lately. If Quentin Tarantino wishes to regain the fans he lost with the dissapointing (but still pretty good) Jackie Brown, he should get to work right away. I'll be the first in line to see the finished product.
109 of 215 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?