I can’t believe I’ve finally seen “Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair.” In its original two-volume form, Quentin Tarantino’s “Kill Bill“ was already a masterpiece of pop-art exuberance, a samurai-western mixtape that danced through genres with bloody, maximalist élan. But ever since “The Whole Bloody Affair“ screened at the Cannes film festival in 2006, which restores The Bride’s revenge saga into one four-hour epic as Tarantino originally imagined it, it’s become an artifact as coveted as a Hattori Hanzō sword. Tarantino junkies yearned for it, begging for any kind of public release. I don’t judge; I was one of them.
Having now seen it on a 70mm print from the recent rerelease, it was worth the wait. “The Whole Bloody Affair“ stands as one of the greatest illustrations of the plasticity of film, where seemingly minor changes can profoundly reshape the experience. I already loved “Kill Bill.” Now it’s one of Tarantino’s very best. On the surface, it’s still essentially the same movie. The Bride (Uma Thurman) is once again out to deliver splattery vengeance on the Deadly Viper Assassin Squad and their leader (and her ex), Bill (David Carradine), for betraying her on her wedding day, made all the worse because she was pregnant. There’s still Thurman’s astonishing performance, alongside Robert Richardson’s candy-colored visuals, Tarantino’s jukebox of groovy needle drops, and Yuen Woo-ping’s extraordinary action choreography. All the while, Tarantino remixes a medley of tropes –– wuxia, triad, western, rape/revenge –– like a DJ sampling tracks into his own signature beat.
The most obvious addition to “The Whole Bloody Affair“ is an anime sequence that expands O-Ren Ishii’s (Lucy Liu) tragic backstory with another opportunity for vengeance. Watching young O-Ren take out another yakuza sadist makes for a slick if slightly superfluous set-piece, and shows just how much a few added minutes of screentime can shift the rhythm of many scenes after it. More subtle changes are even more impactful. Divided by a 15-minute intermission, “The Whole Bloody Affair“ trims the cliffhanger ending of ‘Volume 1’ and the fourth-wall direct address that cold-opens “Volume 2,“relocating that footage to the final credits and generating a new dramatic charge for the film’s back half. The Bride’s climactic triumph at The House of Blue Leaves now transitions directly to the flashback of The Bride’s wedding chapter, taking us from her highest moment to her lowest. That twist of emotion lays the dramatic groundwork for her showdown with Bill’s brother Bud (Michael Madsen), which forces her to travel inward to vanquish her foes rather than rely on her unparalleled skills with a samurai sword.
Tarantino has always been open that he conceived of “Kill Bill“ as one movie, a point he proudly stands by (whenever he insists on finishing his career with an even ten movies, he infamously cites “Kill Bill“ as a single work). Written and shot as one story, it was only cleaved in two because Harvey Weinstein insisted they couldn’t drop an action movie that was four hours long. It would’ve been easy for Tarantino to cry studio interference, but he understood why a double-album release made sense; the sugar high of “Volume 1“ works as one movie, while the moodier, introspective “Volume 2“works as another. The two couldn’t be more different, which is one reason why choosing which you liked better was more a question of taste than quality. Do you want to watch a scorned woman dismember an entire gang of yakuza goons, or do you want discursive dialogue on blondes, Superman, and the venom content of a black mamba? Loving both, I preferred the latter.
Yet “The Whole Bloody Affair“ transforms those differences into a feast of vivid contrasts and clarified thematic throughlines. It’s always been possible to throw on both “Kill Bills“ to approximate the experience (and I’ve done so multiple times), but there’s something undeniably perspective-shifting about watching it as just one movie. The electrifying shifts in style are more exciting as you watch the film evolve from 70s smash-zooms with cheesy sound effects to grungier Leone-inspired desert spaces. And thankfully, the black-and-white section of the House of Blue Leaves sequence, a strategy to avoid an NC-17 rating back in ’03, is now replaced by Robertson’s gorgeous images in color. Tarantino, never one to spare gory details, has a whole little arc built around plucked-out eyes; using just her fingers, The Bride removes an entire eye from a Crazy 88 combatant, which then sets up future flashbacks with her teacher Pai Mei (Gordon Liu) and pays off her confrontation with the one-eyed Deadly Viper Elle (Daryl Hannah). Watching “Kill Bill“ as one movie also further underlines something that was always there: that almost every set piece reveals a solidarity among women warriors who find mutual respect as they fight in a man’s world. They may happily kill each other, but they’ll also stand up for one another when they can.
Spoilers for “Kill Bill“ and “The Whole Bloody Affair“ follow.
“The Whole Bloody Affair“ is also the first time “Kill Bill“ has made me cry. “Volume 1“ originally ended with a cliffhanger delivered by Bill himself, telling us his and The Bride’s child is still alive. Now that crucial piece of dialogue has been cut, the reveal plays as the entire saga’s climax where it always belonged. After nearly four hours of The Bride slaying her enemies, the discovery that this little girl is not only alive but knows, misses, and loves the mother she never met builds to one of the most emotional scenes Tarantino has ever written. Watching Thurman melt from marrow-deep bloodrage into joyful waves of maternal love is extraordinary, as she rediscovers not only her child’s life but also her own.
It’s one of the most brilliant and most mature subversions Tarantino ever attempted, revealing the heart of his revenge epic was always a melodrama about the complexities of love and adulthood. We learn that The Bride, a.k.a Beatrix Kiddo, fled a life with Bill out of a desire for a safer, better upbringing for her unborn baby. She knew it wouldn’t work, but out of motherly instinct, she had to try. Bill, in his words, overreacted. Their love wasn’t enough. “Kill Bill“ has sometimes been dismissed as nothing more than an exercise in genre-kitsch, a loving recreation of cinematic fetishes. “The Whole Bloody Affair“ only reinforces how untrue that always was, an ecstatically fun revenge spectacle where getting sliced with a katana is as painful as hits to the heart.
Have you seen “Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair“ yet? If so, what do you think? What is your favorite Tarantino film? Please let us know in the comments section below and on Next Best Picture’s X account.
