In recent years, I’ve been exposed to a lot of critical thought and analysis regarding film. It’s one of those interesting situations where it’s less that I’ve learned something new, but more that I now have the words to express observations I’ve been making for as long as I’ve been watching movies. One of my more recent observations is this:

Quentin Tarantino is not worth the hype.

Before you all start disowning me – But Tarantino’s a genius! He’s one of the best filmmakers of our time! – hear me out. I’m going to make a couple of stipulations. If you find that you agree, you may reach the end of this post agreeing with my original observation. On the other hand, if you disagree with my stipulations, you’re beyond my help anyway. (That was a joke.)

First, a baseline.

Stipulation One: There is a difference between “Plot” and “Story.” To be brief, Plot is concerned with the action of a film. Luke Skywalker is forced to leave his home, is trained in the Jedi arts, eventually joins the rebellion against the Empire, etc. So then Story is concerned with what happens mentally and emotionally to the characters. Luke finds strength and courage within himself, growing in confidence and competence. With me so far?

Stipulation Two: Because film is a visual medium, it must have suitable images to go with the plot/story. (I’m omitting Sound on purpose; to include it would unnecessarily overcomplicate the point I’m trying to make. I’ll talk about Sound another time.) For our purposes today, I include with the image the cinematography, the mise en scene/production design, and the actors and their acting choices – the inanimate and the animate both.

Stipulation Three: All aspects of the film must work together in harmony for the film to be truly Great. The locations in which the action takes place must complement the story, the choice of shot composition must best convey the action, the actors must inhabit the characters who in turn inhabit the space to bring it all to life… There are a metric crapton (TM) of elements that must all cooperate.

And now we get into Mr. Tarantino. Keep up with me, now.

Stipulation Four: Tarantino is great at the Image. What we see on screen is almost always fan-freaking-tastic. His shots are dynamic, his style is equal parts smooth and quirky, his actors are their characters.

(Important side note: anybody who knows anything about film knows that those are due in equal part to Tarantino’s cinematographer, production designer, and casting director, respectively. I am again removing them from the equation to uncomplicate the matter at hand. We’re talking auteur theory, here.)

Stipulation Five: Tarantino’s story and plot both suck. Yep, I said it. Let’s take Pulp Fiction, probably his best known film. What’s the Plot? Well, um, there are these three or four different groups of characters. And they, er, mostly go about their daily lives. I mean, stuff kinda goes wrong. But uh… what order does it all even happen in? Oh, and then Samuel L. Jackson talks about scripture with Tim Roth. Alright, well, what’s the Story, then? The only characters who experience any kind of growth are Jules and whatever Bruce Willis’s character’s name is. Everyone else stagnates. Or, you know, dies. Any story theorist will tell you that a character needs to have an arc. Minor characters or characters in shorter works can have smaller arcs: he wants a job, he looks for a job, he gets turned down for a job, he finally finds a job where he least expects it. But main characters must experience some kind of major arc. They don’t have to become better people, like Luke Skywalker. Look at Walter White. He starts out as a (relatively) kindly high school chemistry teacher; you blink, and suddenly he’s the kingpin of the meth trade. (Assuming that blink takes five seasons.) But in Tarantino’s stories, his characters are all themselves for the majority of the film. Sometimes a little something will click into place for them, as in Jules’s case. But their changes are too minute in relation to the amount of screen time they occupy.

Stipulation Six: Based on Stipulation Three, Quentin Tarantino cannot make a truly Great film unless his fantastic images (Stipulation Four) work with his plot and story, or vice versa in this case. His plots are so convoluted, his stories so juvenile that they pull the image down. It doesn’t matter if I’m looking at the Mona Lisa of movie scenes: if the scene isn’t advancing the plot or story in some way, I’m not invested in watching the film.

Now, this is all to say that Quentin Tarantino isn’t worth the hype. There are many better filmmakers that are (in my opinion) terribly underappreciated, and maybe I’ll talk about some of them sometime. But for now, I’d like to say what I think Tarantino does best, even better than his images. Something I have not yet addressed.

Tarantino is positively amazing at writing dialogue. Oh my goodness, his dialogue is some of the most compelling writing I’ve ever encountered. It’s witty! It’s quotable! It’s just this side of ridiculous: stylized enough to be funny, but not so stylized that I couldn’t believe someone would say it in real life. I want Tarantino to script out my entire life, for real. “Say ‘what’ again!” Classic.

And truthfully, I think that’s why so many people love his work: the dialogue. It’s just so compelling. You can’t help but to be sucked in. But dialogue can only hold my attention for so long. The image helps, but the plot and the story bore me. But never fear, dear reader. I have a solution.

I propose a collaboration between Tarantino and, I don’t know, George Lucas or someone. Have an accomplished storyteller plan the plot, and have Tarantino write all of the dialogue. Assuming the two work well together (my understanding is that our boy Quentin doesn’t play nice with the other kids) think of the possibilities! We could have a sweeping epic like Avatar (assuming you liked Avatar) with the type of sharp, memorable dialogue I haven’t seen since Malice. I don’t know about you, but I’d pay money to see that movie.