Death Proof is the only Tarantino film I can't get to see at the cinema. We're travelling the world on an extended honeymoon when it comes out, and by the time we get to America, it's vanished from the local screens after a short run.
Instead, we watch it on pay TV in a shady Washington DC hotel room, across the road from a Wendy's burger shack that I was convinced I was going to get shot at. It's video nastiness makes it entirely suitable for watching on TV at midnight in a foreign city, especially when paired with the adorably slimy Planet Terror.
But the weirdest thing about Death Proof is that after six months of travelling around the world, Zoe Bell's Kiwi accent is incredibly jarring and wonderfully familiar. Those flat vowels, that 'I don't give a rat's arse, mate' vibe is just the ticket for our travel-weary heads.
After that, we watch the first episode of the Flight of the Conchords TV show. We were in the seat of power in America, but we might as well have been back in West Auckland.
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