First off, I need to make this clear. Despite how it was subsequently marketed for home release, Grindhouse was originally intended to be an anthology film. How do I know. Because I was one of those lucky individuals who saw Grindhouse when it first played in theaters back in 2008.

Ever since Pulp Fiction (I missed out on Reservoir Dogs) I have seen all things Tarantino (including Four Rooms) in the theater, so no…I was not going to miss out on Grindhouse. But little did I know at the time that Tarantino’s name can not overcome poor marketing. Grindhouse lost money in theaters. It is believed that people did not come because they did not understand what they were paying to see, as that two-for-the-price-of-one concept never really came through properly in the television trailers. I even remember when I saw it for the first time I was not actually sure if I was going to have to pay the price of one movie or two until I got to the ticket counter.

Because of its failure in the box office, the Weinstein Company (always the bad guy) choose to separate the two halves of Grindhouse when they released it on DVD. It would take years before I choose to own a DVD copy of the film. Instead, I patiently waited until they finally restored the original film to its full 3 plus hour glory. Looking back, it is obvious that the decision to separate the installments for home release dealt a disastrous blow to Grindhouse’s legacy, as sadly, that is the way most people had first experienced the film.

But when I judge Grindhouse, I always think back to how I originally experienced it in theaters and will only judge it by the sum of all its parts, not its individual pieces. Yes, Planet Terror and Death Proof are full-length features that are tonally very different, but they play off each other ways similar to the trio of mini-movies in Three Extremes… . Grindhouse cinema was a blanket term that encompassed a lot of different low budget film genres and styles in the 70s, and it is only clear when seen together that Rodriguez and Tarantino were trying to pay homage this eclecticism. And let us not forget the five fake trailers, because they too are very much a part of this cinematic experience.

Rodriguez heads the first installment on the bill, Planet Terror, beginning it with a fake trailer for an action bonanza Machette, which later became an actual movie, with a sequel. Both Planet Terror and Machette play heavy on Rodriguez’s Hispanic roots, championing Latino heroes that fight for justice in a hostile American landscape. In contrast to predominately white Hollywood, Grindhouse cinema often casted visible minorities in the role of hero. Considering that Rodriguez started his career making Hispanic-led action films, his homage to this aspect of Grindhouse films is genuine. In this film, El Wray (Freddy Rodriguez) is our heroic, badass drifter with a mysterious past, who comes to a small town in Texas at the same time an epidemic is turning citizens into flesh-eating rage monsters. I do not want to get much more into the plot then that. All I will say is that for over the course of 90 minutes, Rodriguez will treat you to the horror of the zombie infected, a mad doctors, abusive husbands, bat-shit crazy twin babysitters, soldier rapists and a back story that name drops Bin Laden. Danger lurks in every corner of Planet Terror, even when its not connected with the central plot, leading to a wildly fun ride. And, of course, there is that perfectly placed missing reel.

But Planet Terror is an ensemble film, meaning El Wray is not the only character that gets to kick zombie butt. We also get introduced to Cherry Darling, (Rose McGowan- by the way, remember when I mentioned that this was a Weinstein production) a former go-go dancer who becomes even more dangerous after losing a leg. And pushing forward the main sub-plot is Dr. Dakota Block (Marley Shelton), a doctor with a needle fetish whose character journey leads to many of the film’s best scenes, including the most horrifically jarring moment in Grindhouse. Rodriguez seemed particularly intent on taking Dakota’s character to all the special places in this movie-Hell. These characters are put through the wringer, but in the process, two strong female protagonists are developed in true Grindhouse fashion.

Next up is the onslaught of fake trailers, which employs the likes of Rob Zombie, Eli Roth, Edgar Wright, and in select theaters (including the one I was in) a special entry by contest winner Jason Eisener called Hobo with a Shotgun, which, like Machette, got made into an actual movie. In reality, Grindhouse cinema was infamous for making outlandish trailers that offered up more promise than they could deliver, and this spirit is perfectly captured here. Each of the directors put their own spin on the Grindhouse trailer, reminding us of the wide range of genres and styles Grindhouse cinema encompasses. Some of Grindhouse’s most memorable scenes are also found in this welcome diversion, whether it be Rob Zombie’s intentional whitewashing of a infamous racial caricature or Eli Roth’s inclusion of a knife with a trampoline. The trailers are loads of fun and represent horror parody in its purest form.

And mixed into this spoof, adding to its seeming authenticity, is an actual intermission that includes a title card and a low budget slideshow promoting a local Mexican restaurant.

At this point, the original audiences of Grindhouse would had been in the theater for nearly two hours, and we still have Tarantino’s Death Proof left to watch.

Compared to Rodriguez’s Planet Terror, Tarantino’s Death Proof is a slightly more low-key affair, focusing more on the singular horror of a disenfranchised, sociopathic stuntman with a modified death mobile. For the first two-thirds of Death Proof, Tarantino relies on his trademark use of dialogue, and his ability at crafting unique and tense situations to propel the story forward. But it is in the film’s final act that Tarantino, whose fascination with Hollywood stunt people can also been seen in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, reveals his true intention for the film. For all its previous bluster, Death Proof proves to really be a vehicle where Tarantino can to show-off the skills of real life stunt women Zoe Bell (who plays herself) while filming an elaborate 70s style car chase scene in the vein of Steve McQueen’s Bullet.

But this is not to say that the film is boring prior to its spectacular finale. Watching the maniac Stuntman Mike’s (Kurt Russell) awkward try to insert himself into the conversations of five doomed twenty-somethings in a bar provides its own form of Tarantino-eques entertainment. Sure, some of the snappy hipster dialogue between the twenty-something women feels less in place here than it did with the men eating at diners in Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction, but then again, this is Tarantino’s effort at Grindhouse, a genre not celebrated for its realism. And yes, that second set of women we are introduced to converse in same snappy hipster fashion as the first, but hey…who is counting…and aren’t we really just trying to get to the point where Zoe Bell willingly climbs onto the hood of a speeding vehicle for fun anyways.

And as expected from in Tarantino film, Death Proof sports an incredible soundtrack. “Baby, It’s You”. “The Love You Save May Be Your Own”. “Chick Habit”. These are all great songs. In my opinion, this is amongst the best soundtracks for a Tarantino film, and that is saying something. As an added bonus, I also suggest you search YouTube afterwards for the cut scene that features Rose McGowan dancing to “Down in Mexico”.

When seen in the same sitting as Planet Terror it is easy to understand how these two feature-length entries play off each other. Both contain the same missing reel gag. Both give Rose McGowan considerable screen time. And, most importantly, both make a point of including multiple strong females as the leads; in the case of Death Proof, both Zoe Bell and Tracie Thoms play the kind of women you do not want to mess with. (And Rosario Dawson and Sydney Tamila Poitier do not seem like push overs either.) In other words, both films make use of deliberately progressive heroes at a time that predates #oscarssowhite and the desire in Hollywood to become more “woke”.

Over the course of my lifetime, I have seen a lot of movies in theaters, and I can honestly say that Grindhouse easily offered me the most bang for my buck. The film is a spectacular exercise in wish fulfillment. Though a small subsection of Grindhouse cinema provided diverse representation, as Rob Zombie reminds us, most of films now categorized as  Grindhouse were not progressive at all. Grindhouse films were also not this slickly produced or action packed because, frankly, these filmmakers did not have the budget or capabilities to pull it off. But as avid film buffs, Rodriguez and Tarantino understood some of the best elements of Grindhouse cinema and dialed them up to eleven.

When people discuss modern horror films, Grindhouse is a film that gets largely forgotten. (Harvey Weinstein’s influence might have something to do with that.) But the sources to which it takes its inspiration are continuously being re-evaluated and discovered by this generation and both Rodrigeuz and Tarantino can take partial credit for this. If you are one of the unfortunate many that have seen Planet Terror and/or Death Proof as separate entries, but have not Grindhouse in its original full-length 191 minute theatrical form, then I urge you to find yourself a copy anywhere you can and watch it. It makes for one hell of a good night.