This week marks the 30th anniversary of Quentin Tarantino’s classic Pulp Fiction. It’s one of the most impactful and celebrated films of the ‘90s. It was a game-changer; I think of it as the Nevermind of cinema. Like Nirvana’s breakthrough album from three years earlier, it took elements of things the respective artist loved, shook them up in a strange and vital way, and made something different. (That’s also sort of the definition of rock and roll.) And as it turned out, both Nevermind and Pulp Fiction became shockingly popular, influencing everything that came afterward.
To make a different musical comparison, it also reminded me of the cinematic version of a hip-hop DJ. A DJ can start a song in the middle, pull it back to the beginning, play a bit of another record, go back to the first one, put a different record on the other turntable, and so on. Unlike a rock band, a hip-hop DJ is limited only by what records they have on hand. Hip-hop took vintage parts and birthed something that not only felt new but also made everything else seem a bit stale in comparison.
The film humanized gangsters and got you to like them. It’s led the way for The Sopranos, Boardwalk Empire, and Breaking Bad. Via extended monologues, we get to know the rather unsavory characters and learn that they’re surprisingly relatable. They’re not just thugs: they have interests and morals (sort of). We first saw this in the opening scene of Tarantino’s directorial debut, 1992’s Reservoir Dogs. In that scene, a group of gangsters discussed the finer points of Madonna’s music and argued over whether they believed in tipping waitresses. In Pulp Fiction, we heard about the differences between European and American fast food, what level of intimacy is insinuated by a foot massage, what animals are appropriate to eat, what qualifies as a miracle, and the merits of uncomfortable silence. None of these conversations were necessarily tied into the plot, but they did deepen our understanding of the characters. And that showed another area where Tarantino is a master: dialogue.
But here, I want to appreciate his ability to cast the right actors. Sometimes his choices are downright unlikely; his casts always have some unexpected names. I’m a Tarantino fan, and I love this about his films. I should also mention that I disagree with him on some things.
For example, in 2021, he complained that Marvel actors aren’t movie stars, as if that was a problem. I wrote an op-ed at the time, “Quentin Tarantino: Was He Right? And Do We Really Need Movie Stars?” I argued that it doesn’t matter if the actors are movie stars. I had never seen a Chris Evans film before Captain America: The First Avenger, but he was clearly perfect for the role. I didn’t care that I didn’t know his previous work.
I’ll also add my opinion here that I don’t think great movies even need movie stars, which I’ve written about before as well. The recently released Alien: Romulus is a good example of that. Open Water is one of my favorites, and didn’t have any “movie stars.” Kevin Smith’s Clerks was released in the same month as Pulp Fiction by the same studio (Miramax). Smith financed the film on credit cards and cast his buddies for the film. I’d argue the film benefitted from that.
But one of Quentin Tarantino’s strengths is his vision and his tenacity in sticking with that vision. He is able to elevate actors to A-list status, and he’s able to bring back actors that seemed to be past their prime and make them cool again. That’s one of the many triumphs of Pulp Fiction, a film that has mostly aged very well (minus the totally unnecessary use of the N-word). Here are five of his genius casting choices in Pulp Fiction.