Once Upon A Time... In Hollywood

You can broadly file Quentin Tarantino’s filmography into three distinct stages, each encompassing three films. The first, his imperial and most widely-celebrated, tells the ‘real-world underworld’ stories of Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown, all loosely ‘gangster, criminal’ related but imbued with more cultured dialogue. These three films, along with his writing on True Romance and Natural Born Killers, established QT as the pop culture-inspired enfant terrible we still celebrate him for.

He followed this with his B-movie-influenced, high-concept violence of the Kill Bill double-bill and the vastly underappreciated Death Proof (billed alongside Robert Rodriquez’s Planet Terror as Grindhouse.) Finally, his last three films have been slightly bastardised versions of history replete with lashings of violence and very lengthy dialogue: Inglourious Basterds, Django Unchained and The Hateful Eight. Slightly more serious, quite a bit lengthier and stuffed full of incredible scripting with some amazingly tense scenes.

His tenth (and reputedly, last) film: Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood posits itself as an encapsulation of everything that has come before it. Taking pieces from all three of these phases as it seeks to confirm itself as the ultimate Tarantino flick.

It largely succeeds, in part, with only a slightly less detailed story than usual halting its momentum. If you take this film as a Tarantino love letter, you’ll be truly spoilt with nods to almost every film and identifying trope in the canon.

We’ve got Red Apple cigarettes (stick around for a cracking pre-credits scene), some delicious cameos (Michael Madsen, Zoe Bell, Kurt Russell etc.), copious barefoot shots (walking, out of a car window, in the cinema, the full shebang), a spot of rewriting history, gratuitous ultraviolence, a smattering of foreign language, music interspersed with radio chatter, martial arts, westerns, characters watching movies, a stuntman, the obligatory ‘behind and side-on’ car shots, heck even the title directly harks back to Basterds' ‘Once upon a time… in Nazi-occupied France’ title card. Chuck in Bruce Lee and Uma Thurman’s daughter (Maya Hawke) and it’s practically QT preaching to the converted.

The pace is sedate though, languid. We’re thrown into LA, 1969 and the setting is meticulous. Drive-ins, neon, aviators, it’s pooled over for the first two hours. It’s almost real-time, we drive with characters to change scene rather than cut, this is a film that needs to be invested in.

Now, when you’ve got Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt in the lead roles, this is far from a chore. The two belong on a screen together, they ooze star quality. Both just stroll through this movie looking like it’s the most fun they’ve had in ages. They play with the roles, they absolutely own it. They slowly ingratiate us into their world.

Without giving too much away, DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton lives on Cielo Drive, next door to Margot Robbie’s Sharon Tate. Robbie is just as captivating as her fellow leads, although given far less script-wise. She’s the enigmatic presence, the reminder that there’s a tragic undercurrent to the ‘Golden Age’, the hope for the future that never was. She practically floats through the film, with the indefinable aura of star quality needed for this particular part.

You might think you know where the film’s headed but [slight spoiler], remember, this is a ‘once upon a time’ tale, expect the unexpected. A little historical context does also go a long way with this film though so some prior reading on the Manson Family and the night of August 8th 1969 is highly recommended.

Ultimately, your enjoyment of The Hateful Eight will go a long way to determining how you’ll feel about …In Hollywood. Tarantino isn’t in the mood to appease newcomers here so don’t expect a thrill ride. This is a cinematic tribute not only to himself but to this era of filmmaking. Arguably, the time he takes most inspiration from. The rewards are there but need to be earned, it’s a slow journey where we’ll see more into the lives of the characters than perhaps is required. It’s almost a buddy film, dangerously close to being a slacker film until the final third.

It strikes you as a film that Tarantino himself would enjoy, lots of nods to his favourite things, honouring yet shaking up the past. It’s a great comment on storytelling itself, and the joy of cinema. It also shows the depths behind the scenes, the pressure of expectation, the slow decline, the horrible truth.

It won’t be all things to all people, it’s not quite the ‘best film since Pulp Fiction’ we were promised. It’s a loving tribute to one of the finest Directors there is, an A-list show of acting talent, a funny and violent morality tale and a revenge film, in a way, for a horrifying and despicable act.

It’s vintage Tarantino whilst also somehow not being vintage Tarantino. It creates the illusion with its iconography but doesn’t present anything new, it’s not the commencement of a new phase in his career but a greatest hits.

It’s difficult, at this early juncture, to assess just how Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood will stack up next to the rest of this awe-inspiring career. I’ve a feeling it’ll be a film that the fans will, in future, hold dear but largely because they will feel it needs protecting from those who will claim it as a ‘lesser QT film.’

What I personally have always loved most about Tarantino, and the reason he’s my favourite Director of them all, is his sheer care and attention to absolutely everything in his films, the joy he has in filmmaking and the rewards this gives his faithful viewers. Everything is meant to be, the timing of shots, the movement of the camera, the ‘plop’ of a cherry in a cocktail glass. It’s all there to look as good as it can, as cool as it can. Style backed with substance.

Once Upon A Time… In Hollywood is, perhaps, the first time he’s been stylish above the substance of the film which is to its detriment. But when the film is this cool, well, how can you resist?

5 stars *****