The world of movies did not begin and end with 'Pulp Fiction' and Quentin Tarentino is not a genius. That aside, and taking this movie as what it is, a penny dreadful on the screen, it does become perversely enjoyable.

There's the cafe where 50s idols serve dinner (Buddy Holly, Marilyn Monroe, Mamie Van Doren, Jayne Mansfield) and where Mia (Uma Thurman) and Vincent (John Travolta, undergoing a renaissance after years out in the cold) dance the twist to Chuck Berry's 'It was a teenage wedding ...'. There's Vincent's hip black partner Jules (a sleek and cool Samuel L Jackson), and the town's big guy - and Mia's husband - Marcellus (Ving Rhames). And then there's Butch, who gets the film in an interesting twist part way through, and he's Bruce Willis, who was everywhere the time this movie got made.

And there's the inept hold-up duo - Tim Roth and Amanda Plummer - as 'Ringo' and 'Honey Bunny', the really chilled Mr Wolf (Harvey Keitel), and a cameo from Tarentino himself as Jimmie. Does all this mean the movie is any good? Well, there's a body in a car without a head, and an o/d to Urge Overkill's 'Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon', and Zed's dead, baby, Zed's dead. It's a comic party with f words. Salivating kids may boggle at this and call it the most influential film ever - it isn't, but it is one of the most referential. 'Reservoir Dogs' and 'Jackie Brown' didn't come close, and 'Pulp Fiction' is, for what it's worth. QT's best to date.