I am a huge fan of Quentin Tarantino's films. I am an ardent defender of his style and oeuvre. I certainly think that his films exist on a spectrum, but I never thought that he ever made an outright "bad" movie. I even liked Death Proof (2007).
I originally wrote this review in a fit of pique. And I have been thinking a lot about it since. I have decided that I would edit this review to include new observations and epiphanies that occurred to me after a week's worth of thought and a second viewing.
So, here we go: Once Upon a Time... in Hollywood (2019).
I. What Is It?
This is a movie about a fading movie star, and his stunt double. It's a story about the Manson Family. It's a story about Sharon Tate. It's a movie about the loss of innocence and a city of legend on the edge of a turning point.II. Some Incredible Scenes
There is something incredibly sweet about the way Tarantino frames Sharon Tate going to the movies and watching The Wrecking Crew. She's in the movie, and no one recognizes her. She has an opportunity, then, to sit and enjoy the splendor of watching herself in a movie. And watching a paying audience enjoy her in that film. Margot Robbie, with nary a word, tells the story of Tate's dreams coming true right before her eyes.
There is another scene between Rick and a young actor on the set of a TV show that is phenomenal. An eleven year old girl essentially professionally shames Rick for being a whiny complainer. It inspires him to go back to his trailer and get his shit together to deliver a jaw-dropping performance later. The young actor (she prefers the term "actor," not "actress") is Tarantino at his finest, being served by a wonderful young performer.
We even get to see a what-might-have-been sequence of Rick Dalton starring in The Great Escape. It's a wonderful scene of an actor trying very badly to downplay how disappointed he was that he missed that elusive great part. One that changed the career of another actor and launched him into superstardom.
The scene at the Spahn ranch is a masterclass in slow-building dread. The place is run down, and Cliff has the nagging sensation that something here is completely wrong. The den of vipers gathers around Cliff. It feels like the powder keg is going to explode. And then it doesn't. Cliff drives away. And guess what? The Manson family just happens upon Cliff later in the film. If Tarantino had decided to build upon the animosity between Cliff and the Manson Brood, it would have solved some of the issues of the finale. It would have resonated a bit better, and made a real reason for his revisionism. Cliff fucking wastes that hippy who slashes his tires, insults Squeaky, and acts like an asshole supreme. But the Mansons do nothing to him. That was the golden opportunity to get the Manson's hunting a different, better prepared, target, not a margarita sloshing Rick lecturing the hippies to get off his property. I don't have a problem with Cliff killing the Mansons. But imagine a scene where Cliff and Rick, armed with a flame-thrower, descend on Spahn Ranch and kill ALL of the Mansons, Charley included: it's a better story, it vindicates Rick's connection to Old Hollywood, and makes a better thematic statement of burning down what used to be in order to forge ahead to the future. But then Rick doesn't get his nonsensical invite to the Tate residence... so... fuck it.
There are diamonds in this rough, but the movie doesn't offer nearly as many iconic scenes are Tarantino's past efforts. And even the great scenes feel disconnected to what Tarantino is trying to build (those wonderful TV show recreations), or are paid off poorly (the Spahn Ranch scene).
I am not as mad at this movie as I was. What I realize, now, is that the movie is decent: it's well shot, well acted, and has some fun dialogue. But I am disappointed in the promise that it waves away to ultimately arrive at a ho-hum conclusion. Like Tarantino was a slave to a sub-par vision, when he could have made something REALLY incredible.
There is something incredibly sweet about the way Tarantino frames Sharon Tate going to the movies and watching The Wrecking Crew. She's in the movie, and no one recognizes her. She has an opportunity, then, to sit and enjoy the splendor of watching herself in a movie. And watching a paying audience enjoy her in that film. Margot Robbie, with nary a word, tells the story of Tate's dreams coming true right before her eyes.
There is another scene between Rick and a young actor on the set of a TV show that is phenomenal. An eleven year old girl essentially professionally shames Rick for being a whiny complainer. It inspires him to go back to his trailer and get his shit together to deliver a jaw-dropping performance later. The young actor (she prefers the term "actor," not "actress") is Tarantino at his finest, being served by a wonderful young performer.
We even get to see a what-might-have-been sequence of Rick Dalton starring in The Great Escape. It's a wonderful scene of an actor trying very badly to downplay how disappointed he was that he missed that elusive great part. One that changed the career of another actor and launched him into superstardom.
The scene at the Spahn ranch is a masterclass in slow-building dread. The place is run down, and Cliff has the nagging sensation that something here is completely wrong. The den of vipers gathers around Cliff. It feels like the powder keg is going to explode. And then it doesn't. Cliff drives away. And guess what? The Manson family just happens upon Cliff later in the film. If Tarantino had decided to build upon the animosity between Cliff and the Manson Brood, it would have solved some of the issues of the finale. It would have resonated a bit better, and made a real reason for his revisionism. Cliff fucking wastes that hippy who slashes his tires, insults Squeaky, and acts like an asshole supreme. But the Mansons do nothing to him. That was the golden opportunity to get the Manson's hunting a different, better prepared, target, not a margarita sloshing Rick lecturing the hippies to get off his property. I don't have a problem with Cliff killing the Mansons. But imagine a scene where Cliff and Rick, armed with a flame-thrower, descend on Spahn Ranch and kill ALL of the Mansons, Charley included: it's a better story, it vindicates Rick's connection to Old Hollywood, and makes a better thematic statement of burning down what used to be in order to forge ahead to the future. But then Rick doesn't get his nonsensical invite to the Tate residence... so... fuck it.
We even get to see a what-might-have-been sequence of Rick Dalton starring in The Great Escape. It's a wonderful scene of an actor trying very badly to downplay how disappointed he was that he missed that elusive great part. One that changed the career of another actor and launched him into superstardom.
The scene at the Spahn ranch is a masterclass in slow-building dread. The place is run down, and Cliff has the nagging sensation that something here is completely wrong. The den of vipers gathers around Cliff. It feels like the powder keg is going to explode. And then it doesn't. Cliff drives away. And guess what? The Manson family just happens upon Cliff later in the film. If Tarantino had decided to build upon the animosity between Cliff and the Manson Brood, it would have solved some of the issues of the finale. It would have resonated a bit better, and made a real reason for his revisionism. Cliff fucking wastes that hippy who slashes his tires, insults Squeaky, and acts like an asshole supreme. But the Mansons do nothing to him. That was the golden opportunity to get the Manson's hunting a different, better prepared, target, not a margarita sloshing Rick lecturing the hippies to get off his property. I don't have a problem with Cliff killing the Mansons. But imagine a scene where Cliff and Rick, armed with a flame-thrower, descend on Spahn Ranch and kill ALL of the Mansons, Charley included: it's a better story, it vindicates Rick's connection to Old Hollywood, and makes a better thematic statement of burning down what used to be in order to forge ahead to the future. But then Rick doesn't get his nonsensical invite to the Tate residence... so... fuck it.
There are diamonds in this rough, but the movie doesn't offer nearly as many iconic scenes are Tarantino's past efforts. And even the great scenes feel disconnected to what Tarantino is trying to build (those wonderful TV show recreations), or are paid off poorly (the Spahn Ranch scene).
I am not as mad at this movie as I was. What I realize, now, is that the movie is decent: it's well shot, well acted, and has some fun dialogue. But I am disappointed in the promise that it waves away to ultimately arrive at a ho-hum conclusion. Like Tarantino was a slave to a sub-par vision, when he could have made something REALLY incredible.
I am not as mad at this movie as I was. What I realize, now, is that the movie is decent: it's well shot, well acted, and has some fun dialogue. But I am disappointed in the promise that it waves away to ultimately arrive at a ho-hum conclusion. Like Tarantino was a slave to a sub-par vision, when he could have made something REALLY incredible.
III. "Fuck You Critics," He Seemed to Say
This movie feels like Tarantino railing at his critics. He shakes his fist at them, and all of their challenges to his brilliance. Long, self indulgent, meandering plots? Hold my beer. Problematic shitty male characters? Wait til you see this. Women reduced to objects? You aint seen nothing, yet. Style over substance? Ha. Ha.
This is a movie that reduces Sharon Tate to a piece of ass, and thoroughly removes her from her own story. Margot Robbie is a great actress. She's great as Tate. But you can count her lines on two hands. And you'll need a sturdy pencil to mark down all the times Tarantino uses his camera to crawl all over her body, reducing her to a sexy Hollywood starlet. Tate should either have been left out of this story, or she should have been featured more. That Robbie gives as compelling a performance as she does with as little as she's given is just reminder of another missed opportunity.
What's more, Tarantino tries to reset history, again. Only this time he says nothing. Inglourious Basterds (2009) gave us the cathartic release of shooting Hitler in the face with a machine gun. It challenged you to have fun in that violence. To feel vindicated by it. In this movie, saving Sharon Tate means nothing. There is no reason to do it other than a filmmaker deciding it would be cool to brutally kill the Manson family. And his choice of character to enact that violence? A shitty white man who murdered his wife and got away with it. The same character that unbelievably beat Bruce Lee in a street fight. Jesus, we get it, Quentin: cool white dudes are awesome.
The problem is that Charley, and the rest of the Manson family, escape this "justice" and get off Scott-Free. I would have loved to see Cliff go out to Spahn and brutally kill Charley Manson. And I'm a little disappointed that Tarantino wasn't able to make that happen. Go big, or go home.
Also, I don't know if the fetishistic objectification of women's feet is a deliberate middle finger to critics who have accused Tarantino of having a fetish, or a director unable to help himself indulging in his fetish. Either way, though? It's weird. There's feet everywhere. Even when there doesn't need to be. And, maybe an argument could be made that Tarantino is commenting on the way most people objectify tits and ass by objectifying a piece of female anatomy that isn't traditionally objectified to criticize the male gaze. But... I don't know.
- DiCaprio and Pitt have wonderful chemistry and both deliver wonderful performances.This is a movie that reduces Sharon Tate to a piece of ass, and thoroughly removes her from her own story. Margot Robbie is a great actress. She's great as Tate. But you can count her lines on two hands. And you'll need a sturdy pencil to mark down all the times Tarantino uses his camera to crawl all over her body, reducing her to a sexy Hollywood starlet. Tate should either have been left out of this story, or she should have been featured more. That Robbie gives as compelling a performance as she does with as little as she's given is just reminder of another missed opportunity.
What's more, Tarantino tries to reset history, again. Only this time he says nothing. Inglourious Basterds (2009) gave us the cathartic release of shooting Hitler in the face with a machine gun. It challenged you to have fun in that violence. To feel vindicated by it. In this movie, saving Sharon Tate means nothing. There is no reason to do it other than a filmmaker deciding it would be cool to brutally kill the Manson family. And his choice of character to enact that violence? A shitty white man who murdered his wife and got away with it. The same character that unbelievably beat Bruce Lee in a street fight. Jesus, we get it, Quentin: cool white dudes are awesome.
The problem is that Charley, and the rest of the Manson family, escape this "justice" and get off Scott-Free. I would have loved to see Cliff go out to Spahn and brutally kill Charley Manson. And I'm a little disappointed that Tarantino wasn't able to make that happen. Go big, or go home.
Also, I don't know if the fetishistic objectification of women's feet is a deliberate middle finger to critics who have accused Tarantino of having a fetish, or a director unable to help himself indulging in his fetish. Either way, though? It's weird. There's feet everywhere. Even when there doesn't need to be. And, maybe an argument could be made that Tarantino is commenting on the way most people objectify tits and ass by objectifying a piece of female anatomy that isn't traditionally objectified to criticize the male gaze. But... I don't know.
IV. Good Pieces that Don't Quite Fit
Brad Pitt is awesome: his laid-back charm is on full display. Margot Robbie is awesome: she takes a bit part and makes it sing. Leonardo DiCaprio is awesome: he's a relic of a quickly diminishing time, facing existential challenges. The sets are gorgeous. The movie looks fine. There are a shit load of great needle drops: seriously, this soundtrack thumps.
But it doesn't all gel together for me. The only reason Rick Dalton works at all is because of DiCaprio's raw charisma as a performer, not because of Tarantino's script. There's a lot of potential to explore tension between Cliff and Rick, and the film only briefly touches on it. One man's meal ticket is tied to the success of the other, and there should certainly be some tension there, right?
The film wastes ample time showing us lovingly recreated LA landmarks but does nothing with them. The songs fly a mile a minute, but never for long enough to be enjoyed. There is a cavalcade of famous stars that flit in and out of the movie, but they are reduced to single lines; why cast all of these people at all, if you refuse to use them for anything?
This is the film where all the plates Tarantino has deftly juggled in previous films come crashing to the ground. He is either unconcerned with making it all work, or unable to make it all come together meaningfully.
But it doesn't all gel together for me. The only reason Rick Dalton works at all is because of DiCaprio's raw charisma as a performer, not because of Tarantino's script. There's a lot of potential to explore tension between Cliff and Rick, and the film only briefly touches on it. One man's meal ticket is tied to the success of the other, and there should certainly be some tension there, right?
The film wastes ample time showing us lovingly recreated LA landmarks but does nothing with them. The songs fly a mile a minute, but never for long enough to be enjoyed. There is a cavalcade of famous stars that flit in and out of the movie, but they are reduced to single lines; why cast all of these people at all, if you refuse to use them for anything?
This is the film where all the plates Tarantino has deftly juggled in previous films come crashing to the ground. He is either unconcerned with making it all work, or unable to make it all come together meaningfully.
V. Love Letter to LA
This is, undeniably, Tarantino's most personal film. He loves LA. He loves LA in the 60s. That love emanates from the screen. His world is rendered in incredible detail. However, I feel that sometimes his love of that era gets in the way of his ability to tell a concise story set in that place and time. We are never more blinded than we are when we indulge in our passions. And Tarantino is INDULGING, here.
Why You Should See It
- The soundtrack swings with groovy seventies hits and deep cuts alike.
- There is a moderate amount of catharsis to be had in enjoying the brutal deaths of members of the Manson family. Even if it is problematic and turns sour after the fact.
- It IS a love letter to a long lost city, a bygone era. Your mileage on that may vary, but Tarantino should get some credit for recreating a world so thoroughly.
Why You Shouldn't See It
- It reduces its female characters to nothingness, and then hands their salvation to a shitty man. And finds no greater message in that salvation other than a satisfied, "see what I did there?"
- It feels like Tarantino finally drifting into self parody.
- There are A LOT of feet shots. Like... a lot a lot.
In Conclusion
Miscellany
- Sharon Tate's sister, Debra, visited the set, worried that the film was going to mishandle her representation. She was thrilled, and even offered Margot Robbie some of Sharon's original jewelry to wear for the film.- Bruce Lee's daughter was less impressed with the way the film presented her father. She has been very vocal about her displeasure.
- Damon Herriman plays Charles Manson in this film. He ALSO plays Charles Manson in the second season of Netflix's Mindhunter.
- Tarantino has said that he wrote the screenplay over five years. Originally, he planned to write it as a novel, but decided to make it into a screenplay instead.
- Bert Reynolds was originally cast as George Spahn, but passed away before filming began.
- The film received a seven-minute standing ovation at Cannes.
- The first assembled cut of the film was four hours and twenty minutes long. I kind of want to see that cut.
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