Pop Culture and Philosophy
We apologize in advance to anyone who's ever made relationship decisions based on Seinfeld reruns or switched to GEICO because of the gecko or bought a skirt you saw Kim Kardashian wearing.
It hasn't escaped Shmoop's notice that Pulp Fiction is loaded with pop culture references and symbols. Jules and Vincent talk about Big Macs; we hear references to the band Flock of Seagulls, the Fonz, TV shows "Green Acres," and "Kung Fu." Then there's Jack Rabbit Slim's, where every 1950 pop culture icon is on display from Zorro to Buddy Holly.
The smart folks over at metaphilm believe that pop culture items abound in Pulp Fiction because the main theme of the film is meaninglessness. No, they don't mean the film is meaningless, just that it's about nihilism, which is a belief that nothing really means anything, there are no moral rules, no higher authority, we don't know anything, etc.
Kind of what we felt like after the "Breaking Bad" finale.
Their point is that all the pop culture references are there because Tarantino's talking about the meaninglessness of contemporary American life, where pop culture—trivial stuff that doesn't last long—is all people have to go on because they don't have any other guiding principles.
BUTCH: It's a very pretty name
ESMARELDA: It means "Esmarelda of the wolves."
BUTCH: That's one hell of a name you got there, sister.
ESMARELDA: Thank you. And what is your name?
BUTCH: Butch.
ESMARELDA: Butch. What does it mean?
BUTCH: I'm an American, our names don't mean s***.
No higher meaning, no higher authority. We've got a movie about criminals and murder without a single cop in it. (Zed? Zed's just a security guard. And we see how much that means.)
Even Jules, who spouts Biblical verses that are anything but pop cultural, has no idea what they mean. Now, a person could definitely make some moral decisions based on those verses from Ezekiel, but not Jules, at least not in the beginning of the film. For him, they're just a cool thing to say before he shoots someone. Vincent and Jules only have one guiding principle in their lives—do what Marsellus tells them. Things have value only because Marsellus says they do.
The metaphilm folks think that the movie's about Butch and Jules' progress towards finding a larger meaning and rejecting the superficial nihilistic culture where our only teachers are TV shows and celebrities. Butch eventually goes beyond his usual moral system when he rescues Marsellus (who wants to kill him, btw) from Maynard and Zed. He even puts himself in danger to do it, and he chooses a weapon with huge moral symbolism—a samurai sword. (Source)
Butch gets rewarded for his progress. Marsellus calls it even and won't hunt him down. He's free to go back to Knoxville with Fabienne, riding a motorcycle named, appropriately enough, "Grace."
Jules rejects nihilism when he survives a hail of bullets and believes it's divine intervention, a message from God to quit the life of crime. For the first time, he starts thinking about the meaning of that passage from Ezekiel and how it might give him some ideas about how to live his life. He doesn't talk to Vincent anymore about Big Macs or Dutch hash bars or foot massages—he talks about God and salvation. He actually uses his new understanding of the passage to make some moral decisions, that is, not to kill Ringo and Yolanda.
Jules gets rewarded, too. Well, we assume he does; at least he stays alive. Vincent, who stubbornly sticks to his old worldview and insists that there was no miracle and no message, stays in the criminal life and is dead by the following day.
And Now, for Something Completely Different
All this philosophizing about the meaning of pop culture in Tarantino's films—the emptiness, the superficiality, the lack of moral meaning—makes for a great essay in your Intro to Film Studies class. But what does Tarantino have to say about why there's so much of it in his films?
Graham Fuller: Why do you think that pop culture, comics, and movies themselves proliferate in your scripts?
Tarantino: I guess it just comes from me, what I find fascinating. If I have an interesting take on it, it's not that I'm necessarily lacing it with irony or showing it to you so I can laugh at it. I'm trying to show the enjoyment of it. (Source)
Oh. It's because he likes all that stuff.
Well, what does he know?