I’m 20. Finding myself working in an advertising capacity for a local Sydney weekly (a rag which was way more powerful than anyone ever realised) – and having snuck into the lucrative world of ‘reviewing’; that crazy double-fisted sword of receiving marvelous ‘stuff for free’ in return for spreading the good word – what became my first published film review would be the catalyst of many adventures to come.
A low budget ‘machismo instant classic’ was the catch-cry for this raw, smart and devilishly cool crime thriller about a bunch of iconoclasts fucking-up a simple diamond heist. I walked out of the critic screening delirious then promptly stole the weird ‘bootleg’ style poster straight off the cinema wall and sprinted back to the office. Reservoir Dogs changed the indie landscape forever, while Pulp Fiction would cement this unorthodox writer/director as THE person to watch in Hollywood. He wasn’t playing by rules, and he was winning within this corrupt casino of modern culture. It truly felt like he was doing it all for us; the movie lovers, whoever and whatever we were. His films evoked pure joy.
Fast-forward 11 years and I finally meet the man, candidly and wonderfully at an industry after-party for the Australian premiere of Kill Bill. The poetic irony was not lost as it was my last movie premiere before retiring as the editor of Empire Magazine, something I’d launched three years earlier. We featured the Kung-Fu Fantasique as my last cover with an indulgent headline many Emap publishers vetoed, fearful of poor sales or being banned in supermarkets: ‘Bloody Hell!’
“Man, I fucking love this, I read it at the airport… fucking love how you put all these ‘Do Not Cross’ tags all over the pics and had blood dripping from the margins… Fucking awesome, brother!”
Yes, it was an instant bromance right there. Not only was he making such amazingly fun and guilty-pleasured excursions into cinema, he was cool in a school playground style, and seemed to genuinely care.
Wow!?
“Next time, man – let’s do fuckin’ something!” Quentin concluded, aggressively shaking my hand with a huge smile, then madly grabbing a samurai sword from an event-actor in costume standing nearby he swung uncaring into a centerpiece ice sculpture of some ancient Chinese symbol some poor talented sod had spent nine hours handcrafting. The film company peeps and all guests within a three-metre-radius fled for their lives as violent shards of ice filled the air. I felt liberated, justified and deeply happy watching this imposing figure maniacally laugh and flamboyantly hack the ice even harder the more genuine shock and fear it offered the unsuspecting party around him. It was beautiful, particularly as this was certainly not part of the evening’s run sheet.
The next six years from that warm night in 2003 would see luck find me wind-up curating the very entity that would miss out on touring him for Kill Bill 2; it was coined ‘Popcorn Taxi’. Gary Doust and his astronauts of wonder had been pulling-off extraordinary film events with this unique interactive entity since ’99, and being fortunate enough to host one with Jason Schwartzman, live on stage; it was not long before a few beers were shared and I awoke to holding the keys to this precious and special beast, while Gary in-turn pursued filmmaking proper. Thanks largely to one of my earliest champions, Mike Baard (who coincidently has the highest score on my pinball machine, and is one of the most passionate and down-to-earth film lovers and great guys one can ever have the privilege to spend time with), 2009 would finally see the ‘Tarantino Comes To Popcorn Taxi’ show become a reality. Dark Age was screened on QT’s night off from the Inglourious Basterds tour at Cremorne. VB was shared, mics were broken, chats were had and everyone went home elevated beyond anything we’d done before.
Magic, pure fucking magic. He even signed my stolen Reservoir Dogs poster.
Email is wonderful, social media is also wonderful… just don’t let it replace proper conversation on a telephone or in person, and the combination of these tools is the result of what’s happening in January at The Star.
‘PROM: The Peoples Republic of Music’ was originally coined as a dream fanboy record store between myself and Sam Barclay, the former editor of Australian Playboy and one on a very short list of till-death friends. If you didn’t like what we sold, you could fuck off. Oh, the irony. Read between all these lines and you’ve got the kernel behind P.R.O.M today, which magically that last ‘M’ can also say “movies.” Sam gave his blessing to run with the moniker while he lives in the US; I subsequently take the responsibility of our original concept militantly.
A hopeful email to QT sometime in September this year offered a reply within 24 hours: “Sounds great! How about we play Chant of Jimmie Blacksmith and Mad Dog Morgan as a double? In 35, of course.”
And that’s it folks. Candid chats with his amazing right-hand, Coco, and a couple more emails later – ridiculously tricky ways of delivering the evening within numerous obstacles notwithstanding – and we’re finally on sale for an amazing night ahead. This crazy idea may have worked.
What I truly want to accomplish with P.R.O.M, at the very least, is to shake this town up a bit. Break the ‘circuit’ of pre-organised entertainment rhetoric and put on a proper show, every time, to stimulate and be fondly remembered by all lovers of fun and art. I want to go to these events, and I’m bastard-hard at being a critic on such things. No matter how big or small… every night will rock, you can trust me on that.
CHRIS MURRAY
Curating Producer
P.R.O.M.
PROM presents
A Night of Oz Cinema + Q&A, curated and hosted by Quentin Tarantino
@ The Star, January 15, 2016.
Tickets are currently sold out but stay up to date with any new announcements via the PROM Facebook Page.
