Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

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)

Beware of trolls. It’s a nice and fun wait for a wonderful climax that you don’t want to spoil for yourself. It is fun because of the duo of viewers’ favourites who delightfully enjoy every scene and gesture (ultimately, Brad has an even better role than Leo), and it’s nice thanks to the filming environment and nailing the cheerful colours of the carefree sixties in LA. Margot as Sharon Tate is the ultimate blonde angel, a balanced contrast to selected hippie girls from the Manson Family, who conversely are portrayed as the nastiest bunch and treated accordingly (bravo to Quentin for a courageous, fresh breeze of incorrectness in this fucked-up PC-obsessed era). However, in the dialogue and the meaning of individual scenes from the westerns of Rick Dalton (Leo’s character), as well as in the context of the movie as a whole, Tarantino’s creativity appears to be flagging. Like Franco Nero’s cameo in Django, it’s nice to have it there, but in terms of dialogue it was the weakest (or plainly just pointless) scene of the movie. Most of us consider either Basterds or (in my case) Django to be Tarantino’s masterpiece of the past decade. Do not expect Once Upon a Time to be on a par with those. Qualitatively, it is rather The Hateful Eight in an inverse, divinely lightened mood. And with a WONDERFUL climax. [Cannes] (05/24/2019)

The final scene is not based on previous events; it would work in the same way as a separate half-hour “what if" short story. For over two hours, it is hogwash without any direction and a patchwork of unnecessary scenes full of padding, which... are so finely tuned, well acted, funny and set in the time, while making a point and paying tribute that it's no wonder that one wishes to have more of them. Of course, however, there should have been a lot less of them. And if it had not been “from Hollywood lover Tarantino to Hollywood lover Tarantino" and had it mainly been more cohesive, then I would have left the cinema fully satisfied. (08/14/2019)

The ever-increasing navel-gazing seemed to me to be a recipe for disaster. After the admirable Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino started flagging with Django Unchained, only to slightly overdo it with The Hateful Eight, saved only by the actors and a decent amount of tension. The prospect of another film lapping at the three-hour mark, this time around in tribute to golden era and voluntarily apologizing in advance for its disregard of the audience, therefore tempted me very cautiously. However, the biggest surprise lies in just how wrong I was. Instead of traditionally engaging in endless conversations, the author fragilely confesses his love in a hundred and one ways. Unlike many of his previous works, he does not brag about his own talent; he genuinely and solely pays tribute to the talent of others and wants nothing more than to return to the sixties, immerse himself in them, and simply experience that boundless enchantment with film and television that only early youth can bring. So even though the drawn-out running time seems like showing off in principle, partly because it only slightly and superficially expands on the genre (just try retelling the Sharon Tate storyline yourself), a smile came to my lips incredibly often. The almost playful idea of digging your claws into a beloved world or period, where you tell the story "your own way", could theoretically become a goal for countless other directors, but something tells me that many of them would blindly break their own teeth on it. (08/22/2019)

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)