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I wish someone would address the fascination Mr. Tarantino exhibits in his
films for male sodomy.  There is the prolonged suggestive rough-housing
between Mr. Blonde and Nice Guy Eddie, as well as the graphic  if somewhat
less-than-credible act perpetrated upon Marcellus by the gun shop
proprietors.  American exploitationist cinema has always rested upon the
twin pillars of sex and violence.  Of course Tarantino has a
well-documented taste for violence; but he scarcely gives romantic sex its
due.  He doesn't seem comfortable with heterosexual expressions of sex, but
the scatology aspect of buggery seems to have immense appeal for him.
 
What's going on here?
 
-r. k. ferncase
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