cultural history going back to the late 60s or 70s.
#Sharon tate autopsy has no mention of pregnancy movie#
I can’t help but think there is a pretty significant cultural gap as far as how one experiences this movie depending upon one’s age, or at least one’s knowledge of U.S.
Then one friend, then a second, then a third recommended it on Facebook (amazingly without giving away the ending people were pretty damn protective of that, which I find interesting).
I appreciated the old drive-in B-movie spaghetti western reference in the title, and heard it was actually a quieter film, a more human one, focused on relationships. I appreciated his work, but didn’t need to witness him trailing off like this.īut time went by, as it does, and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood was released. I was so disappointed I wouldn’t see either Django Unchained or The Hateful Eight. And I walked back to my car afterward thinking Tarantino had shot his wad. Regardless of how pretty it all might be.Īgain, there are reasons to like this film, but for me it came off as a flat joke, a waste of three hours of my life. We are blown right off it, are 110% aware we’re watching a film, instead of experiencing it. How does such a story gesture make us believe the movie, keep our willing suspension of belief intact? If our “heroes” assassinate Hitler and pretty much all the leaders of the Third Reich before the historical facts as we know them (and upon which they otherwise depend)…erm, doesn’t that, like, save a whole bunch of lives (or something? And wouldn’t that have, pretty much, changed history? Or something?)? The harsh answer is: we who are watching the film don’t keep our willing suspension of belief intact at this fantastical reenvisioning of historical fact (and, to repeat, to what point?). Which can be a problem if you’re selling a historically-based movie, regardless of how you’re dressing it up.Īt the climax of Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino’s soldiers and femme fatales manage to kill Hitler and his henchman well before the end, as we know it, of WWII. I was kept at a distance, not the least reason being the ending of the entire movie careens into a complete historical fantasy. It seemed pretend, tongue-in-cheek (some characters played it that way some didn’t). I took a seat in a local theater expecting a primal dose of Tarantino, and the film was beautiful on many film-level ways, but I never experienced it as I needed.
Though this is generally good for his art, it can produce uneven results, and at a certain point cause even his biggest fans to decide he’s said all he’s got to say, and it’s all retreads and missteps from here.įor me this moment occurred when I saw Inglorious Basterds. But like the Cohen Brothers, what makes Tarantino an auteur is he’s more concerned with pleasing himself (or being faithful to his vision) than you or me. I can’t imagine he or co-director Richard Rodriguez seriously thought they’d make money from it. Even Grindhouse, which was an odd project, a long two-story tribute to the old grindhouse and drive-in movies. But of course there’s also Reservoir Dogs, Kill Bill Volumes 1 and 2, Jackie Brown (pulling dynamic and classic B actors like Pam Grier and Robert Forster from obscurity). Which in his case and mine, especially as far as Sharon Tate and the Manson murders (and murderers) are concerned, can be the school of rage. So whatever you think of Tarantino, you have to be ready for his coming from this school. The plotlines themselves seemed lifted from such movies, with A-movie actors and scripts and production values. Thelma and Louise, The Silence of the Lambs, and The Accused, all culturally significant 80’s and 90’s classics, sprang from B-movie themes. Like me, Tarantino grew up on B movies, drive-in movies, low-budget films with directors desperate enough to take creative chances to pull in an audience, often through shock and risky content, that mainstream movies wouldn’t dare try. I am going there, because that’s what the movie’s all about, and you should’ve seen it by now anyway. Fair warning: I’m giving away the ending.