From the opening conversation about Madonna in Reservoir Dogs (1994) to the dance scene in

Pulp Fiction ( 1992),Quentin Tarantinos use of music has become one of the defining features of
his cinema. Tarantinos scores generally consist of a medley of pop songs, pre-existing film music,
and on occasion classical music. But, in his films, music is rarely used to augment tension or to
underpin poignant scenes; it is almost exclusively used to be cool. Tarantino predominantly uses
music to reflect the essence of the characters rather than their feelings at any particular moment. In
contrast to dialogue which provides nuggets of information about characters back stories and
motives, music is not used to portray a fragment of the character but their whole persona. The feel
and the sound of the music is what matters rather than the lyrical content and sometimes this feel
is drawn from associations with the musics original context.
Music is a key strand in the intertextual mesh of the Tarantino Universe. Travis Anderson
writes that in addition to affecting irony and structuring the syntax and frequency of his cuts,
scenes and shots, Tarantino uses music in his films to provide the tonal core around which the entire
film is constructed. It is as if on some deep level the images are dictated by and added to the music,
rather than the reverse.(Anderson, 2007, pp90) While the incongruence of the music to the
violence is often cited in discussions about Tarantinos musical choices, his implementation of
music extends past the ironic to become a vital strand in the intertextual web of his films. But the
music also goes beyond simply providing a tone for these films, it augments, and in some instances
even creates, the mythology of specific characters in the movies: a mythology that is often based
upon the musics association with its original context. Popular music, in particular soul, funk, and
rock , is the most prominent feature of Tarantinos soundtracks (though these scores are by no
means exclusively popular music) Jeff Smith argues that the use of pop music conforms to the
same sorts of dramatic functions served by orchestral scores; it underlines character traits, suggests
elements of character development or point of view, reinforces aspects of the films setting, and
supports the films structure by bridging spatial and temporal gaps between sequences. (Smith,
2002, pp.414) In Tarantinos films, popular music and pre-existing film music also bridge a

temporal gap between the era of the film to which the music refers (most frequently the 70s) and the
diegetic temporality of Tarantinos film. Often, this has the effect of imbuing new characters with
the same traits of antecedent characters to whom the musical themes may have belonged. It also
operates to reinforce the setting (both location and mythical) of Tarantinos films by calling to mind
the imagery of these prior films. Though distinctive, Tarantinos use of music, is inspired by a long
history of compilation scores.

Compilation Scores A Brief Overview

With all the hype that surrounds the soundtrack for Tarantinos films, one could be forgiven
for thinking he invented the compilation score. However, compilation scores are almost as old as
cinema itself (Rodman, 2006). Throughout the history of cinema they have provided emotion,
entertainment, and filler for the on-screen images and action. In some cases, they have become the
driving force for marketers, or the signature of particular directors. Due, in part, to the
pervasiveness of the pop/compilation score, it is now widely accepted in film-music scholarship that
a popular song can act in the same way as a specifically composed score and that popular and preexisting music can act on the images and characters of a film. However, pre-existing music has its
own cultural connotations and meanings that impact (directly or indirectly) on the film. In many
instances this is precisely what the director or sound designer is hoping to achieve. Though it seems
obvious that the use of pre-existing music would draw comparisons to or provoke associations with
its original meaning, it is a relatively new area of focus for film-music theorists. While this power to
impact might seem entirely commonsensical, it was a relatively late development in film
soundtracks. Estella Tinknell points out that
It was not until the mid 1960s that the pop soundtrack became more fully integrated into
film texts in terms of narrative as well as spectacle, but this process brought with it a clear
shift away from the conventions of the integrated music(Tincknell, 2006, pp.133)
Jeff Smith termed this shift in convention the compilation score and argued that these
scores established mood and setting and could even act as a commentary on the actions of particular

characters(Smith, 1998) It was during the 1970s and 80s that these types of scores came into their
own and became key features of films. Throughout the 1990s the pop-score was ubiquitous in
popular cinema and it also became a massive source of financial revenue for film-makers. In the
same period directors such as Quentin Tarantino, Danny Boyle, and Baz Luhrman demonstrated
how popular songs could both boost revenue for the films through soundtrack sales and, at the same
time, be integral to the aesthetic of the films. In fact, often the more complementary the soundtrack
was to the onscreen action the more successful the soundtrack sales were. (The soundtrack for
Danny Boyles Trainspotting (1996) was so popular that a second soundtrack was released that
included songs that failed to make the cut for the original motion picture soundtrack.)
Ian Inglis suggests that the pop-score successfully displaced the composed score because it
performs its required tasks with equal (or greater) effectiveness (Inglis, 2003, pp.5) The benefit of
the pop-score is exactly its familiarity to a viewer and possibly why it can be perceived to be
greater than the composed score is. Jerrold Levinson argues that
with appropriated as opposed to composed scores, ironically there will generally be more
attention drawn to the music, both because it is often recognized as such and located by the
viewer in cultural space, and because the impression it gives of chosenness, on the part of
the implied filmmaker, is greater. ((Levinson, 2006, pp.145)
Pre-existing music offers directors opportunities to draw attention to the music and to create
MTV inspired montage sequences by linking seemingly unrelated events or by linking similar
events that take place at separate places and times. Tarantino himself has been critical of this MTV
montage style filmmaking calling it lazy filmmaking (interview with Romney & Wootton, pp.
139) Lauren Anderson notes that Unlike classical film musics subordination to dialogue, popular
musics lyrics can replace or substitute for dialogue (Anderson, 2003, pp.112) The consensus
seems to be that pop-scores are unlikely to be unheard and in many instances they are privileged
over dialogue and diegetic sounds and become the driving force of scenes. The pre-existing score
also gives directors, who may not be well versed in musical language, the opportunity to choose
something that fits their requirements perfectly, rather than relying on a composer to interpret their
needs. Tarantino states that he could never use a specifically composed score stating I dont like

giving up that much control... I dont like using new music that much because I want to pick what I
know (qtd in (Romney & Wootton, 1995, pp.127). This statement reflects not just Tarantinos
choice of music, but also his choice of subject matter and characters that are often clearly inspired
by iconic films. His musical choices often reflect a desire to recreate the style or the sounds of the
movies that he loves. However, despite his penchant for pastiche and homage, Tarantinos films do
more than reverentially rehash tired plots.
Subverting Expectations: Race, Gender, and Homage in Tarantinos Films
Tarantinos oeuvre is characterized by violence, witty dialogue and a fascination with
cinemas past. Many of the genres that are clearly referenced are 1970s B-Movies. Elements from
Kung-fu films, Spaghetti Westerns, Crime Dramas, and Blaxploitation are often blended together to
form one unique film. In the 1970s these genres often displayed different political sensibilities
about race and gender to contemporary popular culture. However, despite the references to genres
where women and African-Americans were regularly subjugated Tarantinos films diverge from
these genres in how his films represent race and gender.
Being white is not a particular advantage in Tarantinos films. In Kill Bill Vol1 &2 (2003,
2004) Uma Thurmans character, The Bride, is repeatedly met with anti-Caucasian bias. In one
instance, the African-American assassin, Vernita Green, is annoyed that The Bride is called Black
Mamba, claiming that she should have been assigned that code name. Later, O-ren Ishii, faces
down a racist tirade from one of the Japanese crime lords by cutting off his head after he insults her
Chinese/American heritage. But, O-ren herself displays her own racial bias when she wounds The
Bride in battle, declaring triumphantly Silly Caucasian girl like to play with Samurai swords.
Despite O-rens assertions that The Bride is not worthy of owning a Hattori Hanso sword, the Bride
manages to defeat her. In the chapter The Cruel Tutelage of Pai Mei we are told that Pai Mei
Hates Caucasians, despises Americans and has nothing but contempt for women.
The two clearest examples of Tarantinos subversion of historical racial paradigms are
found in Inglorious Basterds (2009) and Django Unchained (2012). These films are tenuously

linked to history through their setting and references to real historical figures. However, whatever
realistic historicism there is is quickly undermined by the outlandish premises of the films. In
Inglorious Basterds one Jewish lady, her Afro-French boyfriend, a motley crew of American
soldiers, and one Machiavellian SS officer manage to kill Hitler and most of the Nazi party in a
cinema. In Django Unchained, one former slave teams up with a German bounty hunter to destroy
an entire white supremacist plantation in order to free Djangos wife.
By clear design, Christoph Waltz plays both the Jew Hunter, Hans Landa, in Inglorious
Basterds and the bounty hunter, Dr. King Shultz, in Django Unchained. Both characters are
portrayed in a similar way by Waltz, and though Landa is a Nazi, he is for the most part indifferent
to race. In contrast, Shultz, though indifferent to race is not capable of watching the brutal violence
exhibited by the slave owners. Waltz it just the latest of a long list of actors ( including Michael
Madson, Samuel L. Jackson, Uma Thurman and Michael Parks ) to reprise a role in Tarantino film.
One of the defining features of the Tarantinian Universe is the cheeky insertion of characters with
familial ties to characters from other films and the recycling of actors from his own repertoire or
from otherwise. Tarantino has spoken extensively in interviews about how actors are often
specifically chosen to establish inter-textual dialogue with iconic films. Keith A. Reader argues that
The very concept of the film star is an intertextual one, relying as it does on correspondences of
similarity and difference from one film to the next, and sometimes too on supposed resemblances
between on-and off-screen personae.(Reader, 1990, pp.176) Many of Tarantinos characters are
created specifically to draw on, or to subvert, the star personae. One can take as an example of this
Michael Madsons character whose role of Bud in Kill Bill is the the antithesis of his role as Mr
Blonde in Reservoir Dogs. There are other faces that recur frequently throughout Tarantinos
movies, including Michael Parks, Samuel L Jackson and Uma Thurman. In a clear example of
subverting a star-personae in Django Unchained, Samuel L Jackson plays a conniving and ruthless
black- slave master. Though Jacksons characters in Tarantinos films have predominantly been
villainous they have always been both bad-ass and intensely proud of their blackness but in

Django his character is a traitor to his own people.

In Tarantinos films the way characters sound, move, and look is geared towards
establishing how awesome they are rather than fitting in to realistic representations of how these
character-types should appear and behave. This bad-assness is often derived from the fact that the
character mimics, references, or even updates the characteristics of an existing protagonist. Even
fictional characters are recycled from Tarantinos own films and from other films to add extra
dimensions to the texts. For example, Gordon Liu plays both the head of the crazy 88, Beatrices
enemy in Kill Bill Vol.1, and subsequently plays Pai Mei, her master in film Vol.2. Lius entire
career is almost exclusively devoted to playing shaolin/martial arts monks and Pai Mei is originally
a Chinese legend that the Shaw brothers made famous.
Like race, gender is revised in Tarantino films and the music plays a significant part in
creating this. In both Kill Bill and Jackie Brown women dominate. Bills deadly assassination squad
is almost entirely made up of women, and Bud the only other white man is humiliated by his
brother and by his boss. While female characters are invariably attractive, they are rarely defined
by their appearance. They are capable of the same (and sometimes greater) violence as men. And,
they are just as bad-ass. In his chapter Audiophilia: Audiovisual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema in
Jackie Brown Robert Miklitsch tackles sound and music in Jackie Brown. For Miklitsch the real
world consists of race, gender and inequality. Miklitsch focuses largely on the oppositional gaze to
which bell hooks refers. hooks argues that in True Romance and Pulp Fiction white women want to
and do get their piece of the action, but that blackness is only represented by black men who are
just into the dick thing(Hooks, 1996, pp.48) .However, hooks work focuses on Tarantinos films
prior to Jackie Brown. In the essay, hooks takes issue with Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs, where
she argued that Tarantinos films showed us that domination was here to stay (Miklitsch, 2006,
pp.47) and that though there is racism and homophobia that none of that shit really matters (ibid,
pp.47). However, in films since Pulp Fiction Tarantino does make statements on how characters can
be cool and fight back against domination. Arguably the first of these movies is Jackie Brown

which is a significantly different film to Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs, in that white women do
not get a bit of the action and that blackness is represented by Jackie, by Ordell and by the
soundtrack. Jans B. Wager writes that
Women represent more than the ordinary and intimate in Jackie Brown. The visibility and
success of Jackie almost seems like a response to hookss critique of the representation of
black femininity in Pulp Fiction. The black woman in Jackie Brown has a powerful
personality, and a face as well. (Wager, 200, pp.146)
In this regard Jackie Brown is an entirely different film to Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs where
there are plenty of dicks and white chicks but no stand-out black female characters.
Jackie Brown is also lacking in white cool. Despite being portrayed by Robert De Niro,
Lewis is the most pathetic of all the characters in the film; so pathetic in fact that he chokes when he
tries to get high, and panics under the pressure of the heist and shoots Melanie. Perhaps the main
indicator that Lewis is the epitome of uncool is his inability to engage with and enjoy music. His
relationship with music is contrasted with Jackies in the climactic scene where Jackie initiates the
final money drop. She and Max drive separately to the Del Amo shopping mall to the sounds of
The Crusaders Street Life. Jackie looks the epitome of cool as she drives to the beat of Street
Life. The scene cuts to Max who also looks unscathed despite what they are about to do. There is a
sudden jump cut to Melanie and Lewis listening to 60s surfer music. Lewis is obviously frustrated
and annoyed by the music and turns the volume down. Melanie then mocks him for being so
uptight. This scene is starkly contrasted with Pulp Fiction where white cool is synonymous with
surf music, and where these cool white characters engage with and enjoy the music. This distinction
between Lewis and Jackie, and as a consequence between Lewis and coolness, is made clearer as
the scene cuts back to Jackie arriving at the mall to the rhythms of Street Life which once again
fills the soundtrack. After showing Jackie filling the money bags with books the scene cuts to Jackie
walking across the screen in a reflection of the opening sequence in the airport. While the lyrics
depict a woman who is forced to play the street life, the smile of Jackies face suggests that this is
far from an arduous task. Once again we see the difference between lyrical content and musical
feel. Street Life is not a downbeat track, its a funky disco romp. Its lyrics might be serious but it

sounds cool, and a similar approach to the serious business of the street is reflected in Jackies
exterior. Though Street Life is extra-diegetic Jackie marches to its beat and makes it her own. In
contrast, Lewis is not capable of such engagement with music.
To delineate Jackie by her race and gender is to miss the point of her character. Just because
she is a black woman does not mean she is not a Tarantinian character, and in this case the
Tarantinian hero. Tarantinos films frequently offer a quasi-revisionist perspective on racism and
gender. It is possible to draw a commentary on race from Jackie Brown as a whole, but to bring race
into the film, to place reality into the text destroys the illusion, diminishing the commentary on race.
Jackies achievements are made more special when contrasting her to the reality of the life outside
the Tarantino Universe, where a middle-aged, low paid, African American woman is unlikely to
survive her encounter with a ruthless drug-dealer, let alone beat him at his own game. But Jackie is
empowering because she does. The only reality in Jackie Brown is that anybody can be anything
they want if they have the nerve to follow through. hooks herself praised Jackies character and
Tarantinos film stating
[Tarantino] has the capacity and ability trough love, I think, through love of the image itself,
through love of this character [Coffy] to take that image of the strong and powerful woman
and bring it into a new generation a new time. In a sense he erases the earlier pornography
of Coffy. (in BaadAsssss cinema, Docurama (Firm), 2002)
It is this cathartic empowerment that links Jackie Brown to the blaxploitation genre, however
unlike Coffy and Foxy Brown, Jackie is never forced to play the highly sexualized femme fatale to
win in her world. In Jackie Brown Pam Grier brings with her a wealth of intertextual information,
but she updates rather than reprises her roles of Foxy Brown and Coffy. Though Samuel L Jackson
declared, while rehearsing a scene with Grier, Oh man Im choking Coffy, this is pretty damn
cool(in Jackie Brown DVD Extras, 1998), Griers Jackie has greater power than Coffy or Foxy
Brown.

Jackie as Updated, Celebrated, and Redefined Pam Grier

The opening and closing sequences of Jackie Brown show just how much Jackie Brown has
updated Pam Griers iconic characters. Not only is she older than her blaxploitation characters she
is more contained, more in control. The music used in both these sequences plays an important role
in showing this shift from frenetic vengeance to callous opportunism. Tarantino himself has
spoken about the care he takes when creating the opening sequence stating that One of the things
that I do as a filmmaker is if I start to seriously consider the idea of doing a movie, I immediately
try to find out what would be the right song to be the opening credit sequence even before I write
the script.(qtd in The Celluloid Jukebox, 130). The opening sequence of Jackie Brown not only sets
the tone for the movie, it also sets the tone for Jackie as character. The film begins with a blank
screen and the funky guitar of Bobby Womacks Across 110th Street. The credits roll and finally
Womack begins to sing. The camera remains stationary for several moments until Jackie appears on
screen and we follow her as she impassively glides along to work. Straight away we are told that we
are marching to Jackies beat, and Jackies beat is 110th Street.
The image of Across 110th Street is already a cinematic one, given that it is the title song
from Across 110th Street (1972), and it brings with it the connotations of oppression of AfricanAmericans, gangland violence, and police corruption. Equally, similar arguments can be attributed
to Street Life which documents the struggles of a prostitute. Additionally, Roy Ayers pieces of
music also carry the image of Pam Grier from their previous use in films where she was the leading
lady. Ayers music inspires an image of Pam Grier as hyper-sexualized Amazon that her character ,
of which Jackie Brown is a reinterpretation. Across 110th Street returns to an image of oppression
and violence that Jackie Brown now reappropriates and makes cool. These two separate images, one
of black and female oppression, the other of an overtly sexualized African-American pin-up become
the mark against which to measure Jackie.

Both the image of Pam Grier and the music in Jackie Brown, particularly Roy Ayers music
and Across 110th Street create a dialogue with the blaxploitation films of the 1970s, a genre that
inspires a hugely mixed reaction. Many contemporary black-nationalists viewed the genre as
exploitative, while African-American cinemagoers were often unaware that the genre was largely
controlled by whites. Reid writes that
Black filmgoers, unaware that black directors in Hollywood did not have complete control
of their productions, usually assumed that black directors determined how African-American
life was reflected in their films. Consequently, even though some blacks were proud when
any black was named director, others criticized black directors if the film did not satisfy
their hopes for positive representations of black life (90)
Though Blaxploitation films were not limited to the action genre, these more violent, crime
orientated films became the most memorable of the genus. The genre had other failings as Mike
Philips points out:
it soon became obvious that the style of the Blaxploitation movies could cut both ways. On
the one hand it reflected growing assertiveness, giving blacks a platform for outlining a
vision of the world from the ghetto, and furnishing such black performers as Richard Pryor
and later Eddie Murphy with a universalised background against which they could draw new
characters. On the other hand, the style offered the white world a new set of caricatures
which validated old prejudices, and far from reinforcing black claims for equality, actually
undermined them (25-27)
Despite its failings the genre provided empowerment for black male audiences and actors and it also
created new roles for female black actresses. Sims argues that For African-American actresses, the
genre offered a drastic change from the historic representations of the mammy and the Jezebel
stereotypes that had routinely defined the range of roles available to them. (Sims. 1) However,
despite the shift in representation of women, female characters in blaxploitation were often highly
sexualized and subjected to brutal violence. Pam Grier was the Queen of the genre. She was one of
the three main bankable actresses of the 1970s (the others were Liza Minelli and Barbara Streisand)
( Ventura 288) Grier became the defining female face of the genre.
The references to blaxplotation in Jackie Brown extend past simply using Griers face. The
opening piece of music comes from Across 110th Street a film that has remained in popular
consciousness due to the shocking violence and stylish dialogue that make it quite an enjoyable

spectacle. The film focuses on the plight of three African-American men who pull a heist on some
Italian Gangsters and are subsequently hunted down by the mob. Two cops, one a young and eager
African American, Lieutenant William Pope (Yaphet Kotto), the other a racist middle-aged white
man, Captain Frank Mattelli (Anthony Quinn), try to intervene to catch the three men before the
mob gets them, but fail spectacularly. The plot reveals that Mattelli and the white mobsters have
colluded to keep the mob in power, which effectively ensures their ability to oppress the black
citizens of 110th street.
The films title song is a raw and gritty soul number that reflects the films depiction of the
struggles of African-Americans through the violent and brutish streets of New Yorks mob-ruled
underbelly. As Christopher Sieving notes: Across 110th Street owes much of its notoriety to a
memorable theme song... a majestic soul-funk classic in its radio incarnationperhaps
appropriately, the film itself presents a more downbeat version over its opening creditsand one of
the best of that eras numerous musical chronicles of inner-city pain. In contrast, the opening and
closing scenes of Jackie Brown use the radio edit which is far more refined and radio-friendly as if
to suggest that this film itself is going to be a more sophisticated version of a blaxploitation film.
And largely it is. Ordell and Jackie are far more developed characters than the often one
dimensional heroes and criminals of the genre. Jackie in particular is a far more rounded character
than either Coffy or Foxy Brown. In fact, as Jackie, dressed stylishly in a sexy business suit,
succeeds in conning Ordell and two white cops without getting her own hands dirty, the music The
Escape from Coffy (1973) plays, but in this scene Jackie is everything that Coffy couldnt be.
Jackie is totally in control, she succeeds by skill and not chance and she hasnt had to go on a
roaring rampage of revenge as Coffy did. Jackie is in it for herself and no one else. Unlike Coffy,
Jackie isnt bound by duty to her sister, nor does she ever seem to waiver in her emotions about the
betrayal as Coffy does. Jackie doesnt even need anyone to reaffirm her own justifications.
Like the lyrics of Across 110th Street suggest Jackie does whatever she needs to do
to survive. Miklitschs argues that the Delfonics are Jackies acoustic signifier. However, Jackie

has nothing in common with either the feel or the lyrics of the song and she is never shown
marching to the beat of the Delfonics. Jackie uses the Delfonics in one scene to get Max to
understand her love of soul music. The Delfonics displays Jackies mastery over Max, her instant
impact upon him. It reflects the sort of reverence hooks argues that Tarantino shows for Grier
herself. This is also clear in the first scene where Max meets Jackie. Natural High by Bloodstone
plays as Jackie leaves the jail. The camera focuses on Maxs face that is clearly instantly infatuated
with Jackie. Miklitsch argues that his own the subjective diegetic music, such as the Delfonics, is
used to delineate Jackie (which is not to say that her identity is commensurate with this kind of
music, since this romantic guise is only one of her various personae)(Miklitsch, 2006, pp.106) but
then seems to contradict himself by saying that the Delfonics is not Maxs point of view but Jackies
(ibid, pp.107). There is no doubt but that Jackie more than likes the Delfonics, but there is a
difference between having a song in her record collection and having it as her point of audition. In
the scene where Jackie puts the Delfonics on, the camera gazes at her and the cuts to Max who is
once more absorbed by Jackie. The Delfonics and the camera reflect how Max sees Jackie, not
necessarily who Jackie is, or how Jackie sees herself. Jackie describes the song as nice. There is
nothing nice about Jackie, she may be cool, she may not be bad, but she is definitely not nice.
The Delfonics is not Jackies acoustic signifier, but Maxs look upon her. Later, Miklitsch states that
Ordell is not nearly as different from Max as he supposes suggesting that both Max and Ordell
have been played.(ibid pp.107) But there is a difference in how both men have been played, and
there is a big difference in how Jackie treats both men. Ordell assumes that Max has been played by
Jackie, recognizing the music as something from Jackies repertoire, and probably assuming that a
middle-aged white man would not have the Delfonics in his record collection but for Jackie.
Ascribing The Delfonics to Jackie reduces her power significantly in that it turns her into a romantic
lead. Coffy, Foxy Brown and Cleopatra Jones (portrayed by Tamara Dobson) all used sexuality to
get their way, but they deliberately used their bodies to do so. On both occasions when the romantic
soul music plays Jackie is far from looking her best, in the first instance she is bedraggled after

leaving jail and the second she is dressed in a bath robe with her hair un-styled. Jackie does not
have to sell herself or seduce men to get what she wants. Clearly she uses her sexuality to
manipulate Max, but as Max points out, he knew what he was doing. In contrast to the many
gropings that Coffy is subjected to in order to get close enough to the men to kill them, Jackies kiss
with Max is genuine, or at least voluntary. In stark contrast to Coffy, Jackie never once uses sex to
deceive Ordell. She beats him with wits alone.
Instead of the Delfonics Jackies point of audition is the funkier Across 110th Street. But
in its use we start to see the difference between the blaxploitation genre and Jackie Brown. There is
no woman trying to sell a trick on the street in Jackie Brown, nor are there junkies trying to get free.
The film ultimately boils down to a battle of wits between two bad-asses. Tarantino states that by
casting Pam, I did term this in my mind to a Pam Grier movie, but it was a Pam Grier movie with
its feet on the ground more. The music that is used in this film is not merely to reflect the race of
the characters, nor is it only a signifier of the films fascination with both the seventies and
blaxploitation films. It becomes the beat of these characters and shows how cool and ruthless Jackie
in particular is. The choice of the radio edit is significant in this context as despite her outward
appearance Jackie is the imperceptible bad-ass. Tarantino even notes the inherent contradiction in
Jackies character stating, She is not a super bad momma - she is a kind of super bad momma to
tell you the truth. Jackie is at once everything that Coffy was, but at the same time everything that
Coffy was not.
Across 110th Street is used in much the same way as the pieces from Ayers score from
Coffy which underpin several key scenes in Jackie Brown. While Coffy is undeniably lethal and
ruthless, she is prone to stereotypical female hysteria. She is also prompted to go on her rampage of
revenge by her feelings for her sister. Jackie and Beatrice has much simpler, more masculine
motives: she wants cash. Jackie may have had feelings for Max at individual moments within the
film especially during their one kiss, or she may have had feelings of doubt, in the dark waiting for
Ordell but Jackie as a whole is not signified by these moments. Across 110th Street is not a

fragment of Jackie but a reflection of the whole smooth and ruthless Jackie that we see driving
away at the end. Miklitschs writes that in this final scene the pronounced point of audition
insinuates that even as Jackie is finally making Across 110th Street her own, effectively
internalizing it, she is still subject to another or the Other's voice, not a woman'ssay, Randy
Crawford'sbut a man's (Bobby Womack's).(Miklitsch, 2006, pp.110) But just because the voice
is male, does not preclude it from being Jackies. Jackie is no hysterical dame, nor is she a crazed
and vengeful woman scorend. Jackie is as calm as stereotypical male 'bad asses'. Thus, the music
reflects her persona, and not an 'Other' male voice. As Jackie mouths the words she takes the extradiegetic soundtrack and makes it her own. Jackie takes the song that could hithertofore be seen to be
commenting on her and turns it back on itself, just as the character of Jackie herself takes the
familiar face of Pam Grier, and all the expectations her presence brings with it, and turns it back on
itself.
Jackie ends the film with a smile on her face. She has taken a song that used to signify the
oppression of black people through poverty, and changed it into a triumphant testament to her own
victory. As the reality that Jackie is leaving and never intended staying hits home, Max finally hears
Jackie for what she is: a smooth operator. Jackie still fills the room and Maxs thoughts and it is
Across 110th street that plays. As the camera blurs on Max, the reality of the tough Jackie driving
out of town to Bobby Womack hits home. Jackie Brown is not commenting on the plight of a
middle aged black woman from the wrong side of town, used by both white and black men to
satisfy their own needs; instead it updates blaxploitation movies, celebrates Pam Grier as a bad-ass,
revitalizes the soundtracks, and becomes what Tarantino called Coffy twenty years later. This film
is not a socially conscious film, instead it is a cinematic homage to the seventies, to Pam Grier;
thus, Bobby Womacks Across 110th street is not used to reflect on social problems, but to give
that funky seventies soul sense to the film but more importantly to update these movies to say look
how far these characters have come. In this moment Pam Grier looks back at the camera as if to say
I aint Coffy, but Im still a badass. And thats what the smoother, cooler Across 100th Street also

tells us.