Jackie Brown remains a fascinating example of what QT’s capable of when his talents are reined in. It refurbishes Elmore Leonard’s novel Rum Punch as a love letter to star Pam Grier’s stint as a blaxploitation heroine in the likes of Coffy and Foxy Brown. Here, Grier again rubs shoulders with the superfly, playing a flight attendant attempting to do over the small-time gun runner (Samuel L. Jackson) for whom she smuggles cash. With its muted ’70s palette, languid pacing and another resurrected star in Robert Forster as bail-bondsman Max Cherry, it has a wry warmth that’s the antithesis of Fiction. It’s perhaps over-talky and twisty, but the result is a rare thing – a Tarantino film whose principal star is not Tarantino.