Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

It’s Quentin Tarantino’s ninth film and nothing changed in his storytelling. It’s true that he tuned his hubris down a bit so we don’t see any 40-minute scenes with zero content, as was the case with The Hateful Eight.  But it's still exactly the kind of movie you can expect from Tarantino. It‘s three hours long, with nothing happening for the first two hours, and the last 40 minutes are so full of suspense you will watch it with bated breath. Quentin strategically chose a new topic – Hollywood, but it’s actually just Pulp Fiction in a new coat. This movie seems likes Quentin Tarantino’s opus magnum. He portrays a period he obviously likes the most from Hollywood history – the Western era – and makes allusions to everything that comes to his mind. And he doesn’t care a bit if you like that era, have seen those movies or are their fan at all. He just does what he wants, and it fascinates me how much time and effort he had to invest in shooting scenes from various imaginary films, creating their posters and names. If nothing else, this makes Once Upon a Time in Hollywood a remarkable movie. Plus Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt are a pair of cool guys who can’t let Tarantino’s fans down. It still, however, seems just like a film where a group of actors meet to have some fun together, most of all Leo and Brad. You feel like you went to grab a beer with them, took a peek into their lives, and in the last part of the film you got to see some traditional Tarantino action, which is just as wild and brutal as we’re used to. In short, nothing new under the sun. (01/13/2020)

It's so long. It’s like inhaling the smoke from a filter-less cigarette and enjoying its equally long exhalation. It won't make you cough, and it won't scratch your throat. Which is actually the only problem I have with this "California dream". Connoisseurs of Tarantino's work will soon suspect that history will change again, and this time it is far less subversive fun than Inglorious Bastards. The three-pointed storytelling (actor-stuntman-Sharon Tate) does not have the exact structure of The Hateful Eight, but is rather an episodic collection of stories from filming and enchanted memories of faded neon. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is not the best that Tarantino has to offer, which does not mean that after the end of the I won’t be madly in love with the corked smile of Cliff Booth and dividing the 162 minutes by three, because that’ show fast the film went by. You won't resist the urge to see it again, even if you already know what’s going to happen... (08/09/2019)

Once Upon a Time in Hollywood may not be quite the movie for me. On the one hand, I appreciate that Quentin Tarantino can make a film that looks good, has great music, is nice to watch, and everyone who appears in front of the camera pushes themselves to the limit. In this case, however, we may not have completely met at the story. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood follows a bit in the footsteps of Inglorious Basterds, unfortunately, however, this time Tarantino is not making a variation or homage to a specific genre, but rather to a time and industry. And truthfully, I know more or less nothing about the television industry in 1960s America, and of the shows discussed here, I've heard of about one in three. Of course, I don't want to say that this is Tarantino's fault – he said himself that this film was going to be very personal to him and it shows. But in short, he's dealing with things I'm not familiar with, and frankly don't even care much about. I felt similarly "off" with his Jackie Brown years ago, because the blaxploitation subgenre didn't do anything for me either. As a result, with Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, I often sat in front of the screen and thought that what was going on was probably cool, it was based on something and referencing something, but since I don't know what it's referencing at all, I can't quite get into it. That's more my fault than the film itself, but the fact remains that I'll probably never watch it a second time. (08/12/2019)

By far this is the best movie by the video store freak since Jackie Brown, not least because it doesn't resemble a classic Tarantino film, and because the great Quentin kind of surpassed all his bloodthirsty movies. Those who expected the typical gory carnage, got mature filmmaking, where Tarantino works sparingly with the pace, doesn't rush anywhere, caresses every scene, every line (the scenes with Sharon Tate in the cinema, or the wise little girl are the best). In the very end, however, Quentin unfortunately breaks free from his chain and in the (literally) explosive finale he shows us all that the good old morbid man is behind the camera after all, just so we don't forget. Pomo here says the finale was wonderful, for me it was the weakest link in an otherwise great film. Finally, a quick note: it would be good to have at least some awareness of who Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate are (were), and their influence on late 60s pop culture. Not like the cow in the cinema next to me who at the end said: “What was that blond girl doing there? She was pointless!” PS: Those beautiful Rick Dalton posters had the exact same graphic feel as the posters for the spaghetti westerns available on Wrong Side of the Art. Yeah, and it's too bad I'm straight, otherwise I'd hang a poster of Brad Pitt from this movie on my bedroom wall :o) (08/24/2019)

Tarantino's worst film and one of the most tiring cinema experiences ever. There are only two things to praise about this film, namely the decent retro styling and the perfect performances of Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio, the rest is not even worth mentioning. Bruce Lee is in the film for two minutes and it's no wonder the daughter is upset for the travesty they put him on. Charles Manson is in the film for five seconds! (and it’s what the film was originally supposed to be about) And the alluring Margot Robbie is in the film for about eight minutes total. So more or less, it’s two and a half hours of bullshit about something that I don't give a shit about. But I don't care at all, and I could still get over the fact that Tarantino ditched the action, but to ditch the humour as well? Well, that deserves punishment. It's saved a little by the ending, which Pitt steals for himself, and at least in the last ten minutes Tarantino makes it clear that he's the director, but that’s not enough with a three-hour running time. My friends gave up on the film halfway through. This one passes me by. 40% (09/12/2019)