engthy tracking shots, supplemented by a perfectly jazzy tune (Bobby Womack’s “Across 110th Street”), introduce 44-year-old, Cabo Air flight attendant Jackie Brown (Pam Grier) as she makes her way to her terminal – though this opening scene ends abruptly to transition to Hermosa Beach, California, where arms dealer Ordell Robbie (Samuel L. Jackson) explains various guns to Louis Gara (Robert De Niro), fresh out of jail after serving a four-year bid for bank robbery, all while Ordell’s spaced-out girlfriend Melanie (Bridget Fonda) smokes marijuana and answers the phone in the background. As these characters engage in conversation, this again shifts to the City of Carson, where Robbie acquires the services of bail bondsman Max Cherry (Robert Forster) in order to get his pal Beaumont Livingston (Chris Tucker) out of jail, who now faces a slew of charges for possessing machine guns. Then, in Hollywood, Ordell meets up with Beaumont for an immediate return of the favor – which involves using a shotgun to intimidate some Koreans during a gun deal.

As is typical with Quentin Tarantino films, there’s a wealth of characters and they converse continuously, often chatting about all sorts of random topics in a rather natural manner, meandering and elucidating in equal measure. It’s amusing, but it tends to stretch out the running time. The major difference with this particular script is that it’s based on an Elmore Leonard story, rather than being an original idea (derivative, as always, of various genre staples). Here, Tarantino delves into hardboiled crime drama (with obvious blaxploitation components), as Jackie Brown becomes embroiled in a plot by manipulative ATF agents (Michael Keaton [as Ray Nicolet, according to his badge, but Nicolette in the credits] and Michael Bowen) in their underhanded attempt to nab Ordell.

This tale also deviates from earlier Tarantino endeavors in its embracing of a somewhat traditional love story. The personas may be recognizable fare, particularly with their antihero angles, smoking and drinking and drug use, comfortableness around guns, and general chattiness, but Cherry and Brown initiate an unusually tranquil, straightforward romance that doesn’t often find its way into these types of pictures. “Jackie ain’t no criminal.”

Perhaps expectedly, the main protagonist isn’t a commonplace damsel in distress, either. She’s tough-as-nails, clever, independent, and crafty; in the company of violent and dangerous people, she’s right at home. But rather than sticking with the moderately interesting developments of Brown’s ploy to stay alive and dupe the cops, time-consuming asides crop up with supporting roles (aiming to complicate a slow-moving premise), all while a steady soundtrack of popular tunes presides over the double-crosses and triple-crosses. There’s also intermittent, quirky editing (and some unfitting fades and unnecessary intertitles), clips of other films, and musings about dead-end careers and starting over late in life – as if that fuels goals of high-stakes schemes. “This just seems kinda risky now.”

A pseudo-sting setup with the ATF agents presents opportunities for stakeouts and misdirection and last-minute trickery (the time ticks along with an onscreen clock), building to a complex finale sure to keep audiences guessing. But with specific information withheld, despite tremendously unnecessary flashbacks (including one that flashes back to mere seconds prior; Tarantino is messing with the timeline for absolutely no good reason), it’s not exactly a switcheroo that allows for audience participation. The intricacies are enough that it’s largely impossible to follow along with knowledge of how it might all fall apart (hence all the flashbacks), sapping a bit of the suspense and creativity. This is a movie of absolutely incredible moments alternating with extremely mediocre ones.

Nevertheless, Brown is a considerably likable character (Grier is sensational in the part), quick and cunning, garnering sympathy to the point that it’s easy enough to root for her (Jackson is also exceptional as the villain, delivering a superbly antagonistic performance). The pacing, however, is too slow; the humor isn’t as prevalent as it probably should be with some of the comical swindles and hand-offs (inept crooks unable to trust one another could’ve been a source of more consistent laughs), while the tension is fleeting. The lead is putting herself in significant peril, yet it’s never entirely apparent what that would look like, save for Ordell’s insincere trigger finger. Even the ending – though not without a remarkably satisfying parting shot, long-awaited confrontations, and a welcome resoluteness – is drawn out, repetitive, and twisty. “Half-a-million dollars will always be missed.”

– Mike Massie