The Hateful Eight

The Hateful Eight get off to a weaker and quite long start, but then becomes a hardcore Tarantino movie par excellence. A clever theatre play with audience expectations and reminiscent of both Reservoir Dogs and Carpenter’s The Thing in western guise (the movie adopted three distinctive soundtrack pieces, an isolated frosty winter environment, the scene of finding the culprit in the characters’ own ranks…). Also, thanks to the sinister music by Morricone, this is the darkest, most hateful Tarantino movie, more hateful than the hateful Reservoir Dogs. Samuel L. Jackson, who revives some of the traits of his most iconic character, Jules Winnfield, is probably the coolest actor of today. His black dick story is just topnotch. Quentin knows he can do whatever he wants and we will always fall for it! (07/01/2016)

I'm sick and tired of the over-the-top violence in Tarantino's films, and I write this as someone who enjoys Fulci and similar masters of horror gore. Unlike most, I enjoyed the first hour more, with the witty dialogues that, if fleshed out to a greater scope, would have made a fine play. But then Quentin breaks free with his explicit bloody charge and it all goes to hell. This is a symptom in all his recent films, you know exactly what is coming in the next few minutes. Moreover, as the story unfolds, it makes less and less sense, with a verbal diarrhea that feels unnatural thrown at the viewer. Would real characters talk this mechanically? I still can't get enough of Pulp Fiction to this day, it's a masterpiece where everything clicks, but ever since Kill Bill, which was Tarantino's last great film in my eyes, his work has become more and more distant. There's no longer any excitement on my part, just cautious curiosity, and that's a shame. (11/01/2016)

An almost detective-like Tarantino, with amazing casting at its back moves the genre into entirely uncharted waters (well, snowy hills) while still remaining himself. A well balanced team of actors, headed by Samuel L. Jackson, gives masterful performances, supported by amazing dialogues and catchphrases. The stunning camerawork offers breathtaking sceneries - at times like from another world - and Morricone’s music is gloomy and cold in a way we haven’t heard for a long time. A quality piece. So you’re just starting to imagine it all, right? (29/12/2015)

Usually when you go to the cinema to see a film, it's because of the actors or the story, but Tarantino's films are about the director, and that's what makes Tarantino special. Although I was apprehensive at first, along with Inglorious Basterds, The Hateful Eight is his second best work for me. It's slower paced, but still disturbing, and the quality of the performances make it constantly something to watch. Samuel L. Jackson is amazing here, and his story about sucking black cock is already iconic. He is ably seconded by the excellent Jennifer Jason Leigh, who is downright devilish and properly scheming (usually actresses are praised only for their looks and sex appeal, but few can give a great performance like Jason Leigh). Kurt Russell, Walton Goggins and Tim Roth were also good, but still, I find myself missing Christoph Waltz, who outdoes all the actors in the conversation line, I wouldn't mind Anthony Hopkins in Hannibal mode, he could also add some grit. Of course, the excellent detailed gore effects are worth praising as well, and are properly juicy. I also praise the snowy landscape, the tense atmosphere and especially the logically dosed twists that fit like a puzzle at the end. Surprisingly I wasn't bored at all, I give it a full score and I want to see it again! 95% (14/01/2016)

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. (07/01/2016)