Quentin Tarantino is a feminist.

Well, not exactly. But his films are not unequivocally misogynistic, as many people believe. Sure, Tarantino's two feature films, Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction, runneth over with machismo. And, yes, both focus exclusively on the contemplations of men, particularly those exploring the very "manly" concepts of brotherhood, loyalty, and redemption. But although I do think that Reservoir Dogs is very sophomoric in its (non)portrayal of women, the role women play in Tarantino's second feature, Pulp Fiction, is actually quite crucial. So let's take a specific look at Tarantino's female characters, and then we'll get into the implications for female spectators.

RESERVOIR DOGS

Visual Portrayal (how women are seen):

Women are all but extinct in the world of Tarantino's first film. Two women get ripped from their cars, maybe one or two female extras can be detected in the shootout scene, and that's it!

Oral Portrayal (how women are talked about):

The oral portrayals of women in Reservoir Dogs greatly outweigh the visual, but have little depth. The references to women are all sexual and seem to be thrown in just for laughs. The opening dialogue sets the tone: Mr. Brown (Quentin Tarantino) theorizes that Madonna's song "Like a Virgin" is about a whore who's fucking a guy with a big dick. All of the characters refer casually to women as bitches.

Mr. White (Harvey Keitel), the most likable character, is the only one who talks about women with respect. When Mr. Pink (Steve Buscemi) refuses to tip the (unseen) waitress, White goes into a diatribe about waitresses depending on tips to make a living. Later, when Mr. Orange (Tim Roth) gets shot, White physically and emotionally comforts him — almost mothers him. The one reference to a real, respectable woman is made by White. His former crime partner, Alabama (the only woman aside from Madonna who has a name in the movie) was a woman. But then he says, "You push that woman/man thing and it starts to get to you after a while."

Tarantino defends the general disrespect for women in Reservoir Dogs by arguing that he's being true to the characters — this is how these guys would talk. "I just get the characters talking. They just start talking to each other. I'm like a court reporter, I'm just Writing it down," he says.

True enough. I'll agree that these guys would assume all cops are men, that there are no women managers, and that women can't be parole officers. But the truth is, it's not just Tarantino's dialogue that creates this Man's World. His world validates this sexism by never proving the characters' assumptions wrong.

PULP FICTION

An estrogen explosion compared to Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction demonstrates the sophistication of this director's feminine side.

Visual Portrayal:

The visual is much more interesting and complex than the oral portrayal. The first woman we meet, Honey Bunny (Amanda Plummer), is smart, sexy, and strong. She gives her boyfriend Pumpkin (Tim Roth) shit, flirts with the waitress, and explodes with the quotable "Any of you fucking pricks move, and I'll execute every motherfucking last one of you!"

In the segment titled "Vincent Vega and Marsellus Wallace's Wife," Mia Wallace (Uma Thurman) is identified only as "the wife" until we meet her. Then, she has control — over the camera and the action. When Vincent Vega (John Travolta) comes to her home to take her out for his boss, Marsellus Wallace (Ving Rhames), the viewer sees him from her point of view (a surveillance camera in her bedroom). Her strong, dynamic character drives all the action in this segment, from telling Vincent what to do and where they'll eat, to initiating every topic of conversation. Even when she almost ODs, there is nothing wimpy about her adrenaline-induced recovery. "Fucking trippy," as the dope dealer's woman notes.

In the segment "The Gold Watch," Fabienne, aka Lemon Pie (Maria de Medeiros), at first appears childlike. She asks a lot of questions — mostly about blueberry pancakes and blueberry pie. But she also has a certain strength. Stroking her (flat as a blueberry pancake) stomach in front of the mirror, she announces that she wants a pot belly, because she thinks they're sexy on women. When her lover Butch (Bruce Willis) disagrees, she says "I don't give a damn what men find attractive."

Oral Portrayal:

The oral portrayal is almost trivial compared to the visual. Like the men in Reservoir Dogs, the men in Pulp Fiction casually refer to women as bitches and make petty sexual jokes about them. But there is one provoking sequence in terms of aural portrayal: "The Bonnie Situation." Bonnie is the most forceful woman in the film — she drives the climactic scene despite the fact that we never actually see her. Jimmy (Quentin Tarantino) is Bonnie's husband, and while he agrees to help Vincent and Jules (Samuel L. Jackson) dispose of a body, he insists that it must happen before his wife gets home, or he risks his marriage. (This despite his complaint that his wife consistently buys awful coffee.)

In Reservoir Dogs, the men have few, if any, relationships with women. Rather, they're constantly facing the dilemma of being an individual versus being part of the group. The men in Pulp Fiction also struggle with loyalty to the brotherhood versus self-preservation, but in this case, the notion of self-preservation is personified by a woman. The man/man (brotherhood and crime) versus man/woman (self-preservation and love) theme plays out in each segment of the film. And the men almost unanimously choose love over the brotherhood: Jimmy chooses Bonnie, Butch chooses Fabienne, and Pumpkin gets Honey Bunny. The one exception, Vincent, chooses brotherhood — and ends up dead because of it.

Although Tarantino seems to be developing a more positive reflection of women and gender relations in general, he is still guilty of perpetuating the polarization of the genders. Men are shown in suits, uniforms, and baring their chests. Women are shown in dresses, tight pants, and panties. And while men face the choice of crime and brotherhood vs. domesticity and female sexual partners, the women have few, if any, decisions to make.

Disciples of Laura Mulvey's seminal feminist thesis "Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema" would argue that Tarantino's typical female character holds a simple "exhibitionist role." Her presence is an "indispensible element of spectacle ... yet her visual presence tends to work against the development of a storyline, to freeze the flow of action in moments of erotic contemplation." In Pulp Fiction, women do interrupt the flow of the action. And perhaps because the action is so deadly, viewers look forward to the suspension of violence the women provide.

But the bottom line is that Tarantino tells men's stories. And he has no obligation to tell women's stories, just as Jane Campion has no obligation to tell men's stories. On the other hand, Tarantino needs to own up to the fact that HE is Writing these stories. His characters aren't. He alone is responsible for creating the sexist world of Reservoir Dogs (as well as the moderately women-positive world of Pulp Fiction).

In the end, women are able to enjoy Tarantino's stories. We've always had to be good at identifying with men on screen, because until recently, few films depicted women's lives.

So, if you're looking for a girls-kick-ass picture, don't rent a Quentin Tarantino tape. But, if you're looking for a two-hour fantasy world that's not going to make you feel like shit for being a woman, Pulp Fiction's as good as any.