
Rollin’ down the highway, with a pair of lady-legs propped up on the dashboard... As well as being a fillip for foot-fetishists, Death Proof’s POV opener could be a sly metaphor: Quentin Tarantino putting his feet up. Even in expanded, stand-alone form, it still retains the self-pleasing, throwaway air of the shorter cut that made up the second half of 2007’s greatest lost movie (at least to UK viewers), Grindhouse. As self-pleasing throwaways go, though, Death Proof is an utter blast: sexy, spunky and uproarious.
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