Review: The Film, Jackie Brown...

The opening credits tracking shot of Jackie Brown (1997)—with Pam Grier’s (Foxy Brown) flight attendant character moving along an airport’s travelator—tells the viewer much of what’s in store. The film moves steadily, not quickly, with lingering shots that emphasize characters’ expressions and body language, with the story told at a steady, unhurried pace.

Is this a Hollywood movie? It is for Quentin Tarantino (Pulp Fiction). 

In a nutshell: Middle-aged flight attendant, Jackie Brown, who smuggles cash for a ruthless gunrunner, Ordell Robbie (portrayed with a chilling combination of humor and menace by Samuel L. Jackson, The Hateful Eight), finds herself in grave danger after being caught by federal agents. Facing possible death at the hands of her employer, she teams up with a sympathetic bail bondsman, Max Cherry (Oscar-nominated Robert Forster, Mulholland Drive), to orchestrate a daring double-cross and make off with half a million dollars.

By conventional Hollywood standards, the events of this film could easily be condensed into a ninety-minute runtime. But not for Quentin Tarantino—for Jackie Brown, it takes two and a half hours. And here’s why: Tarantino moves away from the flashy style and explosive energy of Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs, opting instead for a more restrained, character-focused story.

The supporting cast illustrates their craft masterfully. Forster plays Cherry with grounded dignity and romantic longing—his Oscar nod was well-deserved. Robert De Niro (The Godfather Part II) plays ex-con and new Robbie employee Louis Gara with the earmarks of a broken man who still seethes. Bridget Fonda’s (Single White Female) performance as stoner/beach bunny Melanie Ralston is subtly cynical while surprisingly arrogant. Played with understated humor by Michael Keaton (Birdman), ATF Agent Ray Nicolette humanizes the professionalism and dogged persistence of law enforcement.

But the film ultimately belongs to Pam Grier. Often hailed as the performance that revitalized her career, Grier brings emotional maturity, quiet strength, and calculated restraint to the role. Her tender and finely nuanced scenes with Forster reveal a profound humanity that forms the emotional heart of the film. Her performance is enriched by the film's thoughtful reevaluation of her screen legacy, which nods to earlier cult favorites like Coffy and Foxy Brown without reducing her to a nostalgic stereotype. 

The film's soundtrack was carefully curated by Tarantino. Serving as an opening and closing bookend of the film, Bobby Womack’s “Across 110th Street” sets the tone for the film. The song's themes of struggle and survival contrast with Jackie's calm introduction, while her final sing-along underscores her triumph over a rigged system. "Didn't I (Blow Your Mind This Time?)" by The Delfonics acts as a romantic motif for the film—it connects Jackie and Max emotionally. “Aragon,” a snappy jazz-funk track, underscores optimism and the coming success of carefully-laid plans.

Quentin Tarantino has built his reputation on highly stylized neo-noir films featuring nonlinear storytelling, memorable dialogue, and graphic violence. While he often writes, directs, and even acts in his own productions, this film marks a rare occasion in which he does not appear on screen. Often described as an "actors' director," he has built a filmography filled with acclaimed performances recognized by the Academy. His success stems from writing distinctive dialogue, extended monologues, and richly drawn characters that give actors ample room to shine.

Whereas the source material for this film, Elmore Leonard’s novel, Rum Punch, is more plot-laden, Tarantino revises his version as more character-driven, along with making other significant changes. Changing the lead character’s name from Jackie Burke, a younger white protagonist, to Jackie Brown, a middle-aged black flight attendant, gives the film, and the character, a more resounding, cultural arc. Changing the setting from Miami, Florida, to Los Angeles, made it easier for the writer/director, since LA is his own backyard. 

I was engaged watching this entire film. It was almost like seeing a movie in the cinema, where the big screen, the surround sound, and the surrounding darkness focus your attention. Quentin Tarantino does this within a small screen. Now I want to watch Jackie Brown again on the big screen. Perhaps when a Tarantino Film Festival comes around. 

At some point, I’ll have to revise my Top Ten Favorite Films List. Jackie Brown will be within it.