A friend visiting China once happened upon a medicinal wine factory filled with baskets of writhing lizards and snakes. Expert workers, hands caked with intestines, picked up the squirming creatures, smashed their heads on bloody tables and stuffed them into clear bottles of elixir. A bent-over old man appeared out of nowhere. "It's ugly, yes," he hissed at the nauseated traveler. "But you continue to look at it!"


He could have been talking about "Pulp Fiction," the film currently showing at Americom House of Cinema. The 2 1/2-hour movie -- over which countless critics have scratched their heads and finally declared writer-director Quentin Tarantino a genius -- had guests at one screening alternately complaining of boredom and then begging the host not to turn it off.


Dreamy images, quick cuts, lots of blood, a great soundtrack and annoying but beautiful girlfriends throughout combine to overload viewers' senses. Blood is as commonplace as cheeseburgers, and by the end of the film, sentences would sound odd without profanity.


Tarantino, who directed "Reservoir Dogs" and wrote "Natural Born Killers" and "True Romance," wove together three plots to tell a tale of gangsters in Los Angeles. By far the most compelling storyline involves two contract killers, Jules Winnfield (Samuel L. Jackson) and Vincent Vega (John Travolta).


Jackson and Travolta's scenes together are full of blood and action -- but that's not why they're riveting. It's the chemistry between them, their strange rules and etiquette and their darkly hilarious everyday banter. They speak of burgers and argue about pork with the same fervor and conviction with which they discuss divine intervention.


As in most gangster movies, there's an underlying -- but decidedly unconventional -- moral code. Covered with blood from a shooting spree, Jules chides Vincent for getting his friend's bathroom towel dirty.


"Now what if he was to come in here and see his towel like this, Vincent?" Jules angrily asks. "It's shit like this that's gonna bring this situation to a head!"


Some of the scenes are so beautifully filmed you want to take part in them -- such as the one in which Vincent shoots up. It would be an effective ad campaign for using heroin. Filmed in slow motion with hypnotic music, the needle comes out of its pristine leather case, it effortlessly glides into a hairy arm, blood and heroine mix in a foggy wave and then the concoction slowly, seductively plunges into Travolta.


Watching the film in Moscow, separated from the font of American pop culture that spawned the likes of "Pulp Fiction," one wonders how the film would go over with Russian audiences. Television shows like "Cops" and dead icons like Marilyn Monroe become commonplace nouns in the language of the characters, as in America itself. References could be lost on those who didn't have the pleasure of growing up watching Arnold the Pig on "Green Acres."


It's violent and entertaining, but a bit long. Except for an amazing and creepy pawn-shop scene, the entire Bruce Willis thread could have been cut. Still, with the price of admission, you get luscious Uma Thurman in a black wig, likable John Travolta's great comeback, and cameos by Harvey Keitel, Amanda Plummer, Eric Stoltz, Rosanna Arquette, Christopher Walken and yes, Quentin Tarantino, a legend in his own time, in a bathrobe.





"Pulp Fiction" is showing in English at Americom House of Cinema at the Radisson Slavjanskaya Hotel. Shows are daily at 6:30 and 9:30 p.m.through Oct. 9 and Oct. 15 to 18. Additional shows at 3:30 p.m. Sat. and Sun. For more information and updates on a possibly extended run of "Pulp Fiction," call Americom's movieline at 941-8747. "Pulp Fiction" is also available on video at the Garden Ring Supermarket, tel. 209-1572, or American Video Rentals, tel. 229-8797.