A bit overlooked in its day, despite critical praise, Quentin Tarantino’s much anticipated third film doesn’t have the complex narrative tricks of “Reservoir Dogs” or “Pulp Fiction”, but what it does have is a crackerjack script that posits a standard Elmore Leonard heist plot, with Pam Grier and Robert Forester pulling the wool over Samuel J. Jackson’s eyes, within the confines of a carefully choreographed homage to ‘70’s era exploitation yarns. Jackson, as gunrunner Ordell Robbie, is little more than a fouler mouthed version of his hit man from “Pulp Fiction”, and there’s nothing wrong with that, he’s commanding and delivers Tarantino dialogue better than anybody, but the joy of the film is watching the unlikely bonding of stewardess Grier and bail bondsman Forester, veterans of the genre the film is gloriously modeling, dupe both the Feds and Jackson out of a half mil in a mall shopping bag.