It seems I was among the few who caught “Grindhouse” when it initially played in theaters—a genuinely enjoyable, gruesome experience on the big screen. It was a double feature complete with fake previews, some of which later became full movies themselves ("Machete," and "Hobo with a Shotgun," though that last one wasn't shown where I live.) Then someone decided it would be smart to break up the two parts into longer, individual films. That meant saying goodbye to those fun previews (except you can find them on YouTube) and hello to extended movies that felt too long for the theater. “Death Proof” especially suffers from unnecessary padding and more of Tarantino's rambling dialogue. What should have been a lighthearted film about a crazy guy who gets pleasure from scaring women during his stunt-car rides becomes a talky movie where action scenes take forever to begin, and when they finally do, it’s too simple to find flaws with them. Stuntman Mike kills four young women in the first vehicle shown (after already murdering his unwilling passenger) and the police start speculating about his motives instead of trying to prove them. That's some justice system in Texas. Later—or maybe earlier; some people think the second half actually happens before the first...a view I don’t share—Stuntman Mike goes after three women who are out for a drive while recreating a specific stunt. After a few minutes of bumper-to-bumper driving, he's shot by someone suddenly pulling out a revolver (where was that during the chase…was it sleeping?). At this point, Psycho Mike becomes Blubbery Mike and is somehow apprehended after speeding away; apparently, some classic muscle cars from the seventies were fitted with GPS trackers sent back from today. I can’t quite put my finger on why, but “Death Proof” was silly (though nasty) fun in a theater setting. Watching it at home brings out all sorts of moments that make it hard to enjoy it the same way. The bar scenes drag on and on. The conversation at the diner goes on and on. The scene where a local man is asked if three women can test drive his car goes on, and on—you get the idea. Sorry, Quentin. You transformed what was an average movie into a tedious slog-fest. Aside from those “mast-head” scenes, there’s not much to recommend "Death Proof" to anyone who isn't already a fan of Tarantino's work...which has been disappointing since "Basterds," and even that film is overrated in places.

Source on TMDB