Getting blood out of leopard print and velvet fabric is a kind of hell that’s only worth enduring for True Love™, and thankfully, True Romance is all about that kind of sacrifice. One of my favorite things about this movie is its title. Directed by the late muscle-in-his-marrow Tony Scott and written by a baby Quentin Tarantino and unquestionably an action film, the title could have been smug and ironic and gotten away with it, but its romance is, well, true. To paraphrase The Princess Bride, this is a kissing book.
We open with Clarence Worley (Christian Slater) sitting in a bar, chatting up a woman. As he talks at her about how great Elvis is, she doesn’t end up going on a date with him even though they both agree that, given the right circumstances, they’d both fuck him. Clarence is a looker, but he doesn’t really fit into the 1990s’ cool, detached guy sensibilities. It’d be too easy to label him a geek, though, and it’s inaccurate anyway regardless of his hobbies: As the movie goes on, we see that he’s incredibly gifted in social situations, almost as if he’s directing the thing like a movie as he goes. No, Clarence is a romantic, and while this reality doesn’t exactly eschew romantics, it sure as hell makes them pay their dues.