Pulp Fiction

My parents went to see Pulp Fiction in theatres. They left halfway through. Too much profanity, they said. They prefer wholesome films with feel-good stories.

Last year, I got the chance to finish what they started. I was in Hong Kong on business and popped over to Pacific Place during my lunch break. As it happened, Movie Movie had a one-time screening of Pulp Fiction two hours later. I bought a ticket, cleared my calendar and rocked up. Serendipitous.

I watch Pulp Fiction every other year. Last night was my 2026 viewing. What an excellent film. The non-linear storytelling, the dialogue, the performances. It still knocks me out. It also blows my mind that Tarantino was only 31 when it came out. I’m nearly 44. What the hell have I been doing with my life?

Each segment has its merits, and so does nearly every scene, but my favourite remains the diner scene with Vincent and Mia. Watching the two of them try to figure each other out is such a pleasure. Mia pushes. Vincent treads lightly, though without ever quite stopping being himself. And of course they dance, which is excellent. But it is really the conversation that gets me, along with the looks they give each other. That is the scene that does me in.