[Just the one movie this time. I'll do my best to avoid any major spoilers, but shit may happen. After all, it's a Tarantino movie.]
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood -- Tarantino's latest opus dropped Thursday night, and the premise seemed intriguing: a washed-up cowboy actor (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his stunt-double sidekick (Brad Pitt) navigate Hollywood in 1969, the former vainly attempting to resuscitate his flagging career, and the latter vainly striving to keep some sort of role in that career, since he can't have a career of his own (due to being effectively blackballed).
Oh, and did we mention that DiCaprio's next-door neighbors way up on Cielo Drive in Hollywood are none other than Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie)? Reader, you can rest assured that violent hijinks will eventually ensue, a couple hours or so down the road.
But that road is one hell of a ride. Tarantino spares no detail in lush world-building, immersing the viewer in vivid backstories, flashbacks-within-flashbacks, creative fictionalizing -- basically all the things people who enjoy Tarantino's work (and I am definitely one of them; even when he cranks out something I could live without, I can still at least see and respect the effort) enjoy about his work.
The film weaves between exploring the professional and personal relationship between Rick Dalton (DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Pitt), and Tate's career, which was just beginning to blossom as she was brutally murdered by the Manson gang. Their only commonality is the proximity of their houses; Polanski and Tate have just moved in next door to Dalton and so they have actually not met.
It's an interesting gambit on Tarantino's part, because all of it really harks back to an era in general, and events in particular, that wouldn't really have much resonance to anyone under the age of forty-five, maybe forty at the youngest. But he perseveres through that potential dilemma by presenting all the characters as flesh-and-blood in their own right.
DiCaprio's Dalton is a torn man, on the edge of losing what he knows was a marginal career to begin with, but important to him all the same, and DiCaprio finds that sweet spot in an otherwise fairly unlikable character to muster a performance full of power and fury and redemption. Pitt's performance is wonderful as well, his Cliff Booth played with the knowledge that he could and should have had a career in his own right, but for the turn of a dime one fateful afternoon.
The constant undercurrent in all of this is the old-guard Hollywood reaction to the dirty fucking hippies encroaching upon their insular mini-culture. Pitt captures this wonderfully in an extended sequence out to the old Spahn movie ranch, now the hideout for the Manson gang, mostly a gaggle of teenage runaways overseen by Tex Watson (Scoot McNairy) and Squeaky Fromme (Dakota Fanning).
Cliff is ostensibly just dropping off a teenage hitchhiker (Margaret Qualley) that he had been making eyes with from a distance, but as he walks through the old ranch where he and Rick had once made cheesy teevee magic, and sees nothing but a cult of young women who want nothing more than to tear him to pieces, he quickly and calmly marks a visible transformation, from initially seeing a strange situation, and slowly understanding the malevolence behind it all.
Throughout the movie, Tarantino is setting out something of an extended love letter to Sharon Tate, and Robbie becomes his muse in this, with many languid tracking shots of her dancing and walking. She may have had the most challenging role of all, as she has a lot of screen time, but very little dialogue, and so has to rely on body language and facial expressions. Robbie doesn't really resemble Sharon Tate all that much, but she is effortlessly luminous in the way Tate could be, aware of her sexuality but bringing an innate sweetness.
At the very least, Tarantino seems to understand that it would be very difficult to get tired of watching Margot Robbie walk around in a short skirt and go-go boots. He could have made a movie of just that, and I'd have been perfectly happy. But the bonus is that she can actually act as well, and again does a tremendous job without getting much to actually say.
There are oddly comedic moments peppered all over the place, and the expected wrecking crew of top-drawer appearances -- Al Pacino, Kurt Russell, Michael Madsen, Timothy Olyphant, Bruce Dern, and more. And there are definitely some over-the-top moments as well; it is, after all, Quentin Tarantino.
We all know where this is headed, or at least we think we do, and Tarantino is able to take his time in getting there, letting us get in with these characters, because he knows we're in no rush since we know how it turns out. It's a terrific ride along the way, and the destination isn't always what we think it will be.
Grade: A
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood -- Tarantino's latest opus dropped Thursday night, and the premise seemed intriguing: a washed-up cowboy actor (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his stunt-double sidekick (Brad Pitt) navigate Hollywood in 1969, the former vainly attempting to resuscitate his flagging career, and the latter vainly striving to keep some sort of role in that career, since he can't have a career of his own (due to being effectively blackballed).
Oh, and did we mention that DiCaprio's next-door neighbors way up on Cielo Drive in Hollywood are none other than Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie)? Reader, you can rest assured that violent hijinks will eventually ensue, a couple hours or so down the road.
But that road is one hell of a ride. Tarantino spares no detail in lush world-building, immersing the viewer in vivid backstories, flashbacks-within-flashbacks, creative fictionalizing -- basically all the things people who enjoy Tarantino's work (and I am definitely one of them; even when he cranks out something I could live without, I can still at least see and respect the effort) enjoy about his work.
The film weaves between exploring the professional and personal relationship between Rick Dalton (DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Pitt), and Tate's career, which was just beginning to blossom as she was brutally murdered by the Manson gang. Their only commonality is the proximity of their houses; Polanski and Tate have just moved in next door to Dalton and so they have actually not met.
It's an interesting gambit on Tarantino's part, because all of it really harks back to an era in general, and events in particular, that wouldn't really have much resonance to anyone under the age of forty-five, maybe forty at the youngest. But he perseveres through that potential dilemma by presenting all the characters as flesh-and-blood in their own right.
DiCaprio's Dalton is a torn man, on the edge of losing what he knows was a marginal career to begin with, but important to him all the same, and DiCaprio finds that sweet spot in an otherwise fairly unlikable character to muster a performance full of power and fury and redemption. Pitt's performance is wonderful as well, his Cliff Booth played with the knowledge that he could and should have had a career in his own right, but for the turn of a dime one fateful afternoon.
The constant undercurrent in all of this is the old-guard Hollywood reaction to the dirty fucking hippies encroaching upon their insular mini-culture. Pitt captures this wonderfully in an extended sequence out to the old Spahn movie ranch, now the hideout for the Manson gang, mostly a gaggle of teenage runaways overseen by Tex Watson (Scoot McNairy) and Squeaky Fromme (Dakota Fanning).
Cliff is ostensibly just dropping off a teenage hitchhiker (Margaret Qualley) that he had been making eyes with from a distance, but as he walks through the old ranch where he and Rick had once made cheesy teevee magic, and sees nothing but a cult of young women who want nothing more than to tear him to pieces, he quickly and calmly marks a visible transformation, from initially seeing a strange situation, and slowly understanding the malevolence behind it all.
Throughout the movie, Tarantino is setting out something of an extended love letter to Sharon Tate, and Robbie becomes his muse in this, with many languid tracking shots of her dancing and walking. She may have had the most challenging role of all, as she has a lot of screen time, but very little dialogue, and so has to rely on body language and facial expressions. Robbie doesn't really resemble Sharon Tate all that much, but she is effortlessly luminous in the way Tate could be, aware of her sexuality but bringing an innate sweetness.
At the very least, Tarantino seems to understand that it would be very difficult to get tired of watching Margot Robbie walk around in a short skirt and go-go boots. He could have made a movie of just that, and I'd have been perfectly happy. But the bonus is that she can actually act as well, and again does a tremendous job without getting much to actually say.
There are oddly comedic moments peppered all over the place, and the expected wrecking crew of top-drawer appearances -- Al Pacino, Kurt Russell, Michael Madsen, Timothy Olyphant, Bruce Dern, and more. And there are definitely some over-the-top moments as well; it is, after all, Quentin Tarantino.
We all know where this is headed, or at least we think we do, and Tarantino is able to take his time in getting there, letting us get in with these characters, because he knows we're in no rush since we know how it turns out. It's a terrific ride along the way, and the destination isn't always what we think it will be.
Grade: A
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