Double Down was born in the wake of the movie Pulp Fiction's commercial success, during an outing to Laughlin Nevada, where I played black jack. It is deliberately cartoonish, as well as melodramatic. It seeks to entertain while at the same time serving as what Al Franken calls "nutritious candy." It matters little to me lately, that some of the plot, dialogue or events might seem a bit absurd, having watched Pulp Fiction again; and having seen what passes for entertainment from Hollywood these days, with films like Herbie Reloaded, which I watched at my kid's school on movie night this past weekend.
What can I say about a book features the word "shit," twice in the first paragraph and the very last sentence has the word hell in it. I can say that in between the shit and hell, is plenty of gratuitous cartoonish violence, graphic sex, drugs, rock and roll, foul language, gambling, pornography, and heady heated, discussions about all of the above, then some, with sporadic dialogue concerning the meaning of life, love, god and war.
Double Down is Austin Powers meets Pulp Fiction. It is absurd in the ways these films seem absurd. It is darker than Austin Powers, but not nearly as sadistic as Pulp Fiction. I mean if Doctor Evil can have a hideout carved out of a rock in a mountain, why can't Rooster have his hideaway in the Nevada desert? Clearly, there is a vision of a film at hand. I can see the "film" every time I play the song Sugar Spun Sister. I can see the way the film begins as well as the way it ends with another song by the Stone Roses, called I am The Resurrection. I can see the panaromas of the grand canyon, the white van streaming through the desertscapes. I can see Hillary Duff as Ginny. I can hear Jack's voice narrating here and there. I can see it all.
