Once Upon a Time in Hollywood

Hmm! Watching Once Upon a Time in Hollywood is a bit like when the proud parent of a newborn shows you an album full of pictures of their baby, gushing over it and expecting you’d gush too. But even though the photos are really nice, after a couple of pages it stops being fun, and you end up not giving a toss about the brat. Similarly, in his new film Tarantino gushes over the Hollywood of the 1960s, playing entire, often incredibly long scenes of old, mostly fictitious films that have nothing to do with anything that could be called a “plot”. And yeah, it’s nice, cute, atmospheric.. but, for someone who doesn’t care much about old Hollywood, it lasts too long. And this is not what I would love to see from Quentin. This is only masturbating over the atmosphere of the movies from the 60s, a time that is long gone. And on top of that, it’s almost without humour, which was the biggest surprise to me. The occasional efforts also fall pretty flat. For example, the scene with Bruce Lee was so incredibly stupid that I was embarrassed by it. There was a man sitting behind me in the cinema who laughed loudly for about two minutes and I just shook my head because there was really nothing to laugh about! I don’t know, this time Tarantino simply didn’t make a film for me. Only the scene at Spahn’s Ranch and the famous climax show what this film could’ve been if it’d really been “about the Manson Family”, as the reports of the new Tarantino movie said. (22/08/2019)

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... (09/08/2019)

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% (12/09/2019)

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. (12/08/2019)

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. (22/08/2019)