I agree with your take here. Tarantino's film is an elegy for the swinging sixties Hollywood he idealizes and believes was ruined by the dirty hippies (and sinister hippies started showing up in films of the early seventies). He isn't the first to go down this road; others have also suggested that the Manson Family murders, along with Altamont, symbolized a big picture ending to the peace and love era. Anyway, like you I enjoyed it despite the jarring (and yes, infantile) climax. It's beautifully filmed and acted (I especially liked Pitt's performance). It's also often warm and sweet, two adjectives I never thought I'd use for one of QT's films.
Roy, I appreciated and enjoyed your review more than I do most Tarantino movies. That’s not meant as a knock on him; it’s just that most of the movies I’ve seen by him (and I admit it’s not many) left me nonplussed and a little perplexed—stylish Pulp Fiction included. Anyway, thanks for the review.
Warning: heresy. I find Tarantino the man bent grotesque/bizarre. His films impress me less, especially the sadism and misogyny. I must be apostate because Margot and Brad and Leo will work for him but for mine, like the Catholic church, Quentin went too many steps too far, too long ago.
Well, at least this review gives us a kind of respite before the inevitable El Paso/Dayton column tomorrow; better to discuss fictional brutality than the real stuff.
Anyway, I thought there was more good than bad about the film, although of course I have reservations. My random jumble of opinions:
1. Brad Pitt is so successful at making Cliff a mellow, likable dude for most of his screen time that Roy almost ignores the character's violent streak.
a. First, there's the whole "Did Cliff kill his wife?" subplot, which Tarantino either should have resolved or (preferably) omitted. Seriously, it just looks like "Ha ha, the nagging bitch got what she deserved!" If Tarantino was trying to make some kind of point about violence or toxic masculinity here, it was so subtle that it went right by me.
b. Second, there are the beatings Cliff gives to Bruce Lee and Steve "Clem" Grogan (the Manson cultist who knifes the Cadillac's tire at Spahn ranch), both of which happen because he needlessly escalates tense situations. If Cliff hadn't ridiculed Lee, or just fixed the damn tire himself, he could have avoided both fights, but his wounded pride won't let him back down. (Admittedly, the same goes for Lee and Grogan.)
2. I'm the same age as Tarantino, so of course his meticulous recreation of 1969 resonated with me. I especially love his attachment to obscure TV series of the period that I barely remember. Lancer lasted only two seasons, and while Mannix and The FBI were long-running hits in their time, they didn't make much cultural impact.
3. Speaking of which, the "FBI moment" is one of my favorites. Rick and Cliff bonding over the opening credits of a TV show is not only lovable, but a scene that no one but Tarantino could have come up with.
4. Okay, so Sharon Tate comes across more as the lost Lenore than as a person. (Admittedly, fleshing her out would have been problematic for a number of reasons.) Still, Margot Robbie really sells it. She's wonderful.
5. Julia Butters (who plays Trudi Fraser, the child actress on Lancer) is great too. She could be the next Hailee Steinfeld or Chloe Grace Moretz.
6. As long as Tarantino was rewriting history, why not have Charles Manson horribly killed along with the underlings who did his dirty work? Or at least show him getting arrested.
7. So Rick is allowed to keep a working flamethrower at his house? Is that legal? Was it legal in 1969?
8. It would be interesting to see how Rick, an actor who specializes in violent characters, is changed by killing someone in real life.
9. Sam Wanamaker is in this movie! Who besides me remembers him? And Nicholas Hammond was great in the role.
Tarantino doesn't have the cinematic guts to deal with the Manson murders: real innocent victims, real gore. Just like he couldn't deal with the real World war II. If Tarantino made an Altamont movie, Keith Richards and Charlie Watts would be laying out Hells Angels with guitars and drum kits while Mick Jagger performed CPR on Meredith Hunter.
I saw the movie last night and am still processing it. For the first half, overall I thought it was a lesser effort. That's fine, I thought, an artist can noodle -- and that said, it felt very true to the Hollywood I know, where lots of talented people never get their shot, and end up (like Pitt) spending their lives as assistants to luckier egoists (like Leo, who is in turmoil of his own). And mixed in with this very fine elegy there are fascinating artistic choices -- in particular, through Margot Robbie (she has so few lines for all her screentime) QT essentially throws us all the way back to the silents, and thereby builds a sense of her innocence, and of film's as a medium, in a way that felt earned, to me. We also get a sense of her as lonely and a bit insecure, and despite her party life, she's the character the audience probably identifies with -- because who among us, whenever we fantasized about being in movies at some point in life, wasn't, in the awful truth of it, really only imagining that we'd be alone in a dark room and therefore safe from fucking it up by saying the wrong thing -- while all around us hearing that everyone present is actually glad to see us.
Which is, of course, how the movie ends. With strangers glad to see a guy. That's the happily ever after -- not the mansions and parties, but just: being alive, finding people glad to see us. Well, that's half of the ending -- the other half, the true fairy-tale half, is that your star won't fade, you'll always get work, some amazing opportunity is just around the corner. And you deserve it, because you're a hero, in some way, a real killer. This movie wears such an innocent heart on its sleeve and has such a black heart beating under it at the same time. Jesus, I loved it. I'll have to see it again, and process it some more, but it might be Tarantino's best yet, unless Inglorious Basterds retains that spot. And I'd say Brad Pitt wins Best Supporting Actor; he vanishes completely into being a third-rate man. One who was made first-rate by the war and broken by it.
I agree with your take here. Tarantino's film is an elegy for the swinging sixties Hollywood he idealizes and believes was ruined by the dirty hippies (and sinister hippies started showing up in films of the early seventies). He isn't the first to go down this road; others have also suggested that the Manson Family murders, along with Altamont, symbolized a big picture ending to the peace and love era. Anyway, like you I enjoyed it despite the jarring (and yes, infantile) climax. It's beautifully filmed and acted (I especially liked Pitt's performance). It's also often warm and sweet, two adjectives I never thought I'd use for one of QT's films.
Roy, I appreciated and enjoyed your review more than I do most Tarantino movies. That’s not meant as a knock on him; it’s just that most of the movies I’ve seen by him (and I admit it’s not many) left me nonplussed and a little perplexed—stylish Pulp Fiction included. Anyway, thanks for the review.
Warning: heresy. I find Tarantino the man bent grotesque/bizarre. His films impress me less, especially the sadism and misogyny. I must be apostate because Margot and Brad and Leo will work for him but for mine, like the Catholic church, Quentin went too many steps too far, too long ago.
Well, at least this review gives us a kind of respite before the inevitable El Paso/Dayton column tomorrow; better to discuss fictional brutality than the real stuff.
Anyway, I thought there was more good than bad about the film, although of course I have reservations. My random jumble of opinions:
1. Brad Pitt is so successful at making Cliff a mellow, likable dude for most of his screen time that Roy almost ignores the character's violent streak.
a. First, there's the whole "Did Cliff kill his wife?" subplot, which Tarantino either should have resolved or (preferably) omitted. Seriously, it just looks like "Ha ha, the nagging bitch got what she deserved!" If Tarantino was trying to make some kind of point about violence or toxic masculinity here, it was so subtle that it went right by me.
b. Second, there are the beatings Cliff gives to Bruce Lee and Steve "Clem" Grogan (the Manson cultist who knifes the Cadillac's tire at Spahn ranch), both of which happen because he needlessly escalates tense situations. If Cliff hadn't ridiculed Lee, or just fixed the damn tire himself, he could have avoided both fights, but his wounded pride won't let him back down. (Admittedly, the same goes for Lee and Grogan.)
2. I'm the same age as Tarantino, so of course his meticulous recreation of 1969 resonated with me. I especially love his attachment to obscure TV series of the period that I barely remember. Lancer lasted only two seasons, and while Mannix and The FBI were long-running hits in their time, they didn't make much cultural impact.
3. Speaking of which, the "FBI moment" is one of my favorites. Rick and Cliff bonding over the opening credits of a TV show is not only lovable, but a scene that no one but Tarantino could have come up with.
4. Okay, so Sharon Tate comes across more as the lost Lenore than as a person. (Admittedly, fleshing her out would have been problematic for a number of reasons.) Still, Margot Robbie really sells it. She's wonderful.
5. Julia Butters (who plays Trudi Fraser, the child actress on Lancer) is great too. She could be the next Hailee Steinfeld or Chloe Grace Moretz.
6. As long as Tarantino was rewriting history, why not have Charles Manson horribly killed along with the underlings who did his dirty work? Or at least show him getting arrested.
7. So Rick is allowed to keep a working flamethrower at his house? Is that legal? Was it legal in 1969?
8. It would be interesting to see how Rick, an actor who specializes in violent characters, is changed by killing someone in real life.
9. Sam Wanamaker is in this movie! Who besides me remembers him? And Nicholas Hammond was great in the role.
Tarantino doesn't have the cinematic guts to deal with the Manson murders: real innocent victims, real gore. Just like he couldn't deal with the real World war II. If Tarantino made an Altamont movie, Keith Richards and Charlie Watts would be laying out Hells Angels with guitars and drum kits while Mick Jagger performed CPR on Meredith Hunter.
I saw the movie last night and am still processing it. For the first half, overall I thought it was a lesser effort. That's fine, I thought, an artist can noodle -- and that said, it felt very true to the Hollywood I know, where lots of talented people never get their shot, and end up (like Pitt) spending their lives as assistants to luckier egoists (like Leo, who is in turmoil of his own). And mixed in with this very fine elegy there are fascinating artistic choices -- in particular, through Margot Robbie (she has so few lines for all her screentime) QT essentially throws us all the way back to the silents, and thereby builds a sense of her innocence, and of film's as a medium, in a way that felt earned, to me. We also get a sense of her as lonely and a bit insecure, and despite her party life, she's the character the audience probably identifies with -- because who among us, whenever we fantasized about being in movies at some point in life, wasn't, in the awful truth of it, really only imagining that we'd be alone in a dark room and therefore safe from fucking it up by saying the wrong thing -- while all around us hearing that everyone present is actually glad to see us.
Which is, of course, how the movie ends. With strangers glad to see a guy. That's the happily ever after -- not the mansions and parties, but just: being alive, finding people glad to see us. Well, that's half of the ending -- the other half, the true fairy-tale half, is that your star won't fade, you'll always get work, some amazing opportunity is just around the corner. And you deserve it, because you're a hero, in some way, a real killer. This movie wears such an innocent heart on its sleeve and has such a black heart beating under it at the same time. Jesus, I loved it. I'll have to see it again, and process it some more, but it might be Tarantino's best yet, unless Inglorious Basterds retains that spot. And I'd say Brad Pitt wins Best Supporting Actor; he vanishes completely into being a third-rate man. One who was made first-rate by the war and broken by it.