The Hateful Eight
Directed by:
Quentin TarantinoScreenplay:
Quentin TarantinoCinematography:
Robert RichardsonComposer:
Ennio MorriconeCast:
Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Walton Goggins, Demián Bichir, Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern, James Parks, Dana Gourrier (more)VOD (3)
Plots(1)
Six or eight or twelve years after the Civil War, a stagecoach hurtles through the wintry Wyoming landscape. The passengers, bounty hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell) and his fugitive Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh), race towards the town of Red Rock where Ruth, known in these parts as "The Hangman," will bring Domergue to justice. Along the road, they encounter two strangers: Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), a black former union soldier turned infamous bounty hunter, and Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), a southern renegade who claims to be the town's new Sheriff. Losing their lead on the blizzard, Ruth, Domergue, Warren and Mannix seek refuge at Minnie's Haberdashery, a stagecoach stopover on a mountain pass. When they arrive at Minnie's, they are greeted not by the proprietor but by four unfamiliar faces. Bob (Demian Bichir), who's taking care of Minnie's while she's visiting her mother, is holed up with Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), the hangman of Red Rock, cow-puncher Joe Gage (Michael Madsen), and Confederate General Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern). As the storm overtakes the mountainside stopover, our eight travelers come to learn they may not make it to Red Rock after all... (The Weinstein Company)
(more)Videos (28)
Reviews (16)
Tarantino's approach to his film The Hateful Eight can be compared to the intercourse of long-term partners. They know their pleasures, they know what to expect from each other, they have perfected their technique over the years, they no longer rush, and they no longer have anything to prove or fight for. At the same time, it never occurs to them to get rid of their controversial practices, nor do they feel any need to conform to general norms and demands of good manners. With the isolated environment and the limited number of characters who do not trust each other and search for a "weak link" among themselves, the film reminded me of Tarantino's debut. Here and there, the focus is mainly on exposing the characters in a borderline situation. For about 3/4 of the film, we follow eight characters trapped in a cabin in the middle of the mountains, cut off from civilization by a snowstorm. They all have evident and hidden reasons to be on guard, the three-hour duration is filled with dialogues, sometimes seemingly banal, other times punctuated with inappropriateness, vulgarities, and racist remarks. For many viewers, it may be tormenting boredom, but I have no problem with that when it comes to Tarantino. He is too experienced a filmmaker to fill the time with static shots and boredom. He is artistically inventive enough to skillfully dose tension and, from the minimum offered to him, extract the maximum. He can ultimately rely on a strong cast that plays with enthusiasm and considers it an honor to be a part of the film. The actors pay tribute to the cult director, they enjoy it, and lightly overact to highlight mostly the negative characters. The director presents the viewer with a sophisticated cat-and-mouse game but that is where the first stumbling block is hidden. It turns out that the game is somewhat purposeless, or rather does not make much sense, once the resolution is revealed. It is as if the villain tried to break into a house that nobody guards or locks in a convoluted way. The desired result could have been achieved in a much less complicated way, but then it would have been a different film for a different audience. The second problem, which, however, will not bother a large group of Tarantino fans, is the depiction of violence. Violence has always been Tarantino's trademark, and his typical screenwriting and directing feature is the use of violence as a source of humor. On the other hand, in The Hateful Eight, it is clearly evident that Tarantino has not matured. The gratuitousness of certain scenes is striking. A man who has several potential adversaries and should save every bullet that may come in handy for his survival joyfully turns a corpse's head into a bloody mess. Why? Simply because the bloodied floor and tissue remnants all around look impressive. You either deal with this or pick yourself up and move on. Despite the mentioned criticisms, I must say that it is the most likable and interesting Tarantino film since Jackie Brown. Tarantino still has something to offer, and his wild pulp aesthetics, together with the brilliant acting of the cast involved, are worth seeing. Jennifer Jason Leigh deserves a mention. She is already at an age when agents don't often contact Hollywood actresses anymore, and this was an opportunity she did not want to miss. Overall impression: 60%. I have something to add after watching Django Unchained, which I haven't fully digested yet: I have no reason to change my claim that The Hateful Eight is Tarantino's best film since Jackie Brown. However, even this insight does not change the fact that his films are burdened with mannerisms, self-centeredness, and an effort to cater to the presumed expectations of his fans. The long scene where Major Warren vividly describes the execution of a Southern officer's son simply does not deserve a fourth star for its degradation. Tarantino once again proves that he has no limits when it comes to lowering the bar of good taste.
()
(less)
(more)
Extremely indulgent, long and self-absorbed Tarantino, who set the Reservoir Dogs back 150 years in time, doubled the running time and changed about 20 percent of the script and dialogue. I wouldn't have expected something so unoriginal given his previous work. Of course the traditional long dialogue passages licked to absurdity are great, as are the lead actors and the expected splatter finale, but there have been enough of those spaghetti westerns. Topping it off is Tim Roth, who tries in vain to do the exact same gestures and creations as Christoph Waltz, who was clearly not up to the task for this winter romp. Where is the inventiveness, originality and multi-themed homage to everything possible and impossible with a ton of ideas at every turn that was so evident in Kill Bill?
()
A self-indulgent massage of the creative ego, which has grown to manic proportions in the use of epic cinematic toys (Ennio, 70 mm, Nicoreto), all whilst covering itself for three hours with a banal story that commits obscure suicide in the form of the chapter "Earlier that morning," destroying the last vestiges of credibility. The much-maligned first hour is in no way useless, and the snow rascals couldn't have gotten better casting (all of them amazing, but Goggins' Mannix undergoes the most interesting evolution of audience sympathy). Thus, even if common sense starts to politely resist it after all the grand circles, Tarantino proves again how cheap of a whore the audience can be at times and gets hooked by banalities we'd long ago boo others for. If, in the end, you accept the fact that the absence of Quentin's traditional absurdist humor is actually a good thing, you're going to like the film. 4 ½.
()
Even though Quentin Tarantino is not my cup of tea, I am always curious about his next movie. However, after the years I already know that he will surprise me with nothing else than the fact that he keeps roping one acting ace after another into his movies. That may be the reason why I still cannot miss single one of his movies. And The Hateful Eight again did not disappoint. If I wouldn’t blame the actors, whom I hold in high respects, I would blame the film itself, which incredibly overacts. The 182 minutes of footage really show Quentin’s big confidence as he thinks that I will fall for a film this long. The problem is that he stretched a good premise twice as long than this kind of film would deserve. For example, the first scene in the post chaise is incredibly deadening and boring, and nothing fundamental happens there. The film gets a really interesting touch only towards the ending, when something finally starts to happen. At the time you can expect basically anything because everybody playing in this movie has a character so absurd that the audience knows that anything can happen. Actors with their polished English from the American countryside create the impression that almost every line uttered in the movie is a catchphrase. And there is quite a lot of them. Tarantino again did not disappoint. However, it never ceases to fascinate me that his fans still buy everything he makes. Just switch the locations for the Second World War and you get Inglorious Basterds. Switch it for the America filled with gangsters and you get Pulp Fiction. Is this movie really that original as it pretends to be?
()
With such perfect cinematography and the wonderful old-fashioned Ennio Morricone soundtrack, this simply can't go completely wrong; but I was still expecting something more. Quentin Tarantino's repeated love for the Wild West promised to rid itself of all the small flaws that afflicted the otherwise wonderful Django Unchained, but this is a step backwards. The never-ending dialogues about nothing surprisingly often remain never-ending dialogues about nothing, and it is only when the reveals start coming in the second half that the film finally succeeds. The pace never drops, every shot has fatal consequences, and the resolution of the last plot twists even manages to nail you to your seat despite its bloody black humor, proving that this ride was worth it. Still, I would be happy if Quentin moved on from Western-themed stories (or, in this case, half-bred cowgirls) and went somewhere else. Because in the stagecoach chapters, his previously commonplace sins against the audience have started to creep back in, and instead of a symbiosis of the creator and the viewer, his fetish for reference and drawing things out are appearing again after all these years.
()
