One has to admire how prominently Quentin Tarantino features women in the world of action and crime: Mrs. Mia Wallace, Melanie Ralston, The Bride, Elle Driver, the Death Proof gang, and - possibly the baddest of them all - Jackie Brown. These are women who don't settle for just being sidekicks or molls. As a matter of fact, they're usually smarter and more powerful than the men who surround them. Vincent Vega is no match for Mia, Pai Mei and Bill can't compete with Elle and the Bride, and Shosanna takes on the Nazi regime. But, while those other women rid themselves of or manipulate the oppressive male forces, it's always within the context of a fantastic setting. The overblown realm of car obsessives in a grindhouse film, the world of highly-trained assassins, a pulpy Los Angeles, an alternate World War II history, etc. What makes Jackie Brown Tarantino's finest female character (and Jackie Brown one of Tarantino's best films) is that Jackie takes on a more realistic white man's world and gets by on intelligence rather than brute force.
Part of the credit for this needs to be given to the Master of Misdemeanors, Elmore Leonard. His ability to establish a real world of crime through petty conversations, relatively mundane characters with long backstories, and the perfect blend of intelligence and stupidity finds its way into Jackie Brown. "My ass may be dumb, but I ain't no dumbass," Ordell Robie (Samuel L. Jackson) says, a sentiment which applies to pretty much all of the characters. They're stupid enough to get themselves trapped in desperate situations, but - with the notable exception of Louis (Robert De Niro)- they're not dumb enough to ignore the obvious. Everyone looking out for their own interests - and doing it with brutal efficiency - makes Jackie's attempts to play people even more dangerous and suspenseful. And what's she risking her life and freedom for? $500,000 in cash, a sum that seems paltry in Hollywood terms but in the lives of Jackie (who makes "$16,000 a year plus retirement benefits that aren't worth a damn"), Ordell, Max (Robert Forster), Louis, and Melanie, it means a hell of a lot. Perfect Leonardian details like these - and Tarantino's use of titles to tell us whether we're in Compton, Torrance, or Carson - establish the film's reality and make Jackie's score more meaningful.
Music has always played an important role in Tarantino's films, contributing to his set of references or upping the coolness factor, but the soundtrack of Jackie Brown goes further. Two songs - the Delfonics' "Didn't I Blow Your Mind This Time" and Bobby Womack's "Across 110th Street" - define Jackie's development throughout the film. The Delfonics song - played when she first connects with Max and later when Ordell confirms her collusion with Max - serves as both her calling card for these men and a reminder of her dependence on them to achieve her goals. Bobby Womack's song, which bookends the film along with gloriously extended sequences that idolize Grier, features opening lines of "I was the third brother of five / Doing whatever I had to do to survive / I'm not saying what I did was alright / Trying to break out of the ghetto was a day-to-day fight" and a chorus of "Across 110th Street / Pimps trying to catch a woman that's weak / Across 110th Street / Pushers won't let the junkie go free." At the start of the film, it lays out the forces trying to pin Jackie down, but by the end, she's singing along as she recognizes her achievement in playing Ordell and ATF agent Ray Nicolette (Michael Keaton) and escaping from Max. The funky sounds and lyrical reminders work as the perfect capstone to Jackie's accomplishments as she remains thoroughly herself - a strong, independent woman.
There's obviously more to Jackie Brown than just a powerful tale of female liberation. It's an excellent "hangout film" (with lots of humor and entertaining conversations), a charming romance, an exploration of the (geographic and racial) divisions in Los Angeles*, and a great crime flick. Tarantino also creates a unique tone for the film (incorporating both Leonardian wit and the effects of aging) without stylizing it to the extent of his later features. At the end of the day, though, it all comes down to Miss Jackie Brown.
*Tarantino captures the lower-to-middle class parts of L.A. that aren't usually seen onscreen. We're familiar with images of the seedy L.A., the gangland L.A., and the wealthy L.A., but here we find something else.
The film is littered with cautionary tales of women who are under the thumb of incompetent men (Sheronda, Melanie, Simone).
Changing Leonard's Rum Punch character to Jackie Brown was a brilliant move on Tarantino's part. While Jackie Brown isn't really blaxploitation, casting Pam Grier (and having the obvious reference to Foxy Brown) establishes Jackie as kin to genre's wronged women out to get theirs.
Tarantino plays it mostly straight chronologically, although the use of title cards bring the film back from breaks and add humor. The single major instance of timeline manipulation is done (in a thrilling fashion) to reveal the execution of a key point in Jackie's master plan. Without the tool of hopping around to various bits of back story, Tarantino is still able to build up each character and add to the continually escalating excitement over Jackie's plot.
I'm sure that there's a conversation to be had about how it took a top tier male director to forcibly integrate women into prime roles in crime/action films, but I'll leave that to Slate or a thinkpiece writer with some spare time.
Crew & Cast
Written & Directed by Quentin Tarantino (Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, Kill Bill, Django Unchained)
Cast
Pam Grier - Jackie Brown
Robert Forster - Max Cherry
Samuel L. Jackson - Ordell Robbie
Bridget Fonda - Melanie Ralston
Michael Keaton - Ray Nicolette
Robert De Niro - Louis Gara