Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino
***1/2 (three and a half stars)
RATED R
"All the leaves are brown
And the sky is grey
I've been for a walk
On a winter's day
I'd be safe and warm
If I was in L.A.
California dreamin'
On such a winter's day..."
"California Dreamin'"
music and lyrics by John Phillips and Michelle Phillips
I am perplexed. Truly perplexed.
For nearly three decades, Writer/Director Quentin Tarantino has cemented himself as one of American cinema's most thrilling, exciting, controversial and enormously unpredictable filmmakers. With his first eight films, Tarantino has amassed a level of quality control that is uncommonly high for any filmmaker to scale with his peerless dialogue, characters and storytelling and an A level cinematic approach to what are all essentially exploitation films.
As far as I am concerned, over his career, Tarantino has helmed not one but four veritable masterpieces with the game changing "Pulp Fiction" (1994), the orgiastic samurai/western hybrid "Kill Bill" (2003/2004), the World War II revenge fantasy of "Inglourious Basterds" (2009) and the titanic, grueling slavery opera of "Django Unchained" (2012). Quentin Tarantino has forged a glowing career of basically inventing a completely idiosyncratic film genre unto himself making each new entry an event simply because it has arrived.
With his ninth film, "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood," the event status has arrived once again but the end result for me was one of admiration but decidedly muted and in some cases, underwhelmed. A completely surprising and unexpected reaction to be sure as even the Tarantino films I have been slightly softer with are more inventive and well written and conceived than most other motion pictures being released at the same time.
With his new film, many of the standard Tarantino qualities are in place, from his stellar direction, conception and the top to bottom performances he elicited from his cast. Additionally, there is exceedingly much to dissect, discuss and debate and I would not necessarily call it a disappointment either. Truth be told, I have not been able to get this film out of my mind since seeing it and I am indeed anxious to view it again. But something was possibly missing with its cumulative effect or something was off with my reaction to it. Yet for all of Quentin Tarantino's excellence, and quite possibly arriving with his most personal film to date, "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" is no masterpiece. Not even close. But that being said, it is undeniable to me that Quentin Tarantino, at this stage in his career, has surprised me by releasing a work that is demonstrably unlike anything he has previously accomplished.
Set during the sunset of Hollywood's Golden Age during 1969, "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" stars Leonardo DiCaprio as Rick Dalton, a once legendary television star of the Western series "Bounty Law" who is now a falling star, as his classic good looks have fallen out of favor, his hopeful leap to feature films have failed, and he is now relegated to playing villainous guest spots on other people's television programs. Adding insult to injury are the emphatic recommendations of Marvin Schwarz (Al Pacino), Hollywood producer as well as Dalton's agent, for Dalton to go to Italy and partake in the burgeoning "Spaghetti Western" film boom. And finally, Dalton's rampant alcoholism and increasing sense of insecurity are not aiding him in the least.
Brad Pitt stars as Dalton's longtime stunt double and best friend Cliff Booth. A war veteran with a dark past yet armed with a laconic cool, confidence and even wisdom lives in a dilapidated trailer next to a drive in theater with his faithful pit bull Brandy yet serves as Dalton's unofficial chauffeur and often live-in confidant/sidekick.
The luminous Margot Robbie is featured as Sharon Tate, who with her husband Roman Polanski (Rafal Zawierucha), plus celebrity hair-stylist Jay Sebring (Emile Hirsch), have rented the home next door to Rick Dalton in the gated community of Cielo Drive. Upon learning of their arrival to the neighborhood, Rick dreams of one day being able to meet Polanski with the hopes of resurrecting his career and status as a leading man.
Yet running underneath or better yet alongside the sunshine days pf Hollywood fame and glory is the darkness of the rising counter culture, in which Charles Manson (Damon Herrian) and his "family" cult lurks.
Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" is resplendent filmmaking. Meticulously designed with all manner of period details and visualized lusciously by legendary Cinematographer Robert Richardson, Tarantino has crafted what is easily his most romantic film to date, a poetically nostalgic ode to a time long gone and one that Tarantino barely knew, as he was a mere 6 years old in 1969. And possibly, this is the point of Tarantino's approach as he is working both as a film historian and dream weaver, presenting a Hollywood that may not quite have been like this in reality but it is indeed what it looked and felt like to Tarantino as a child.
Quentin Tarantino gives us a world where the Hollywood backlots are a playground, a world where we can see the professional dream weavers at their crafts making visual magic for the silver and television screens. It is a world and a time where boys can regard MEN being MEN, surrounded by money, foul language and clouds of cigarette smoke while playing the same dress up adventures as children. It is a fairy tale where one could challenge none other than Bruce Lee (Waunakee, WI'S very own Mike Moh) to a fight on the backlot of "The Green Hornet" and (improbably) win!
And this is where and how I believe we should be reading the portrayal of Sharon Tate by Margot Robbie, something that has given the film its share of (frankly) needless to the point of being ridiculous controversy. Yes indeed Robbie does not possess much screen time or actual dialogue but that is because this film is not a biopic about Sharon Tate or anything resembling an expose about her.
In "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood," Tarantino is presenting Tate as an archetype, a symbol, a representation of the vision of the Hollywood dream--and therefore, the California fantasy itself. Radiant in its beauty and breathtaking in its sense of freewheeling glamour, hope and possibility. As Tate twirls and dances at the Playboy Mansion or takes in an afternoon screening of herself in her latest film, Director Phil Karlson's "The Wrecking Crew" (1969) starring Dean Martin, adorned with the same giant glasses as she wears in the film and a glowing smile as bright as the sun itself, Margot Robbie evokes the enormous purity of guileless anticipation and ambition.
Delving deeper, we are witnessing what is essentially a personalized road map into Tarantino's cinematic proclivities and passions as "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" just may be the one film in his complete oeuvre that is informing all of us in the audience as to why he wanted to become a filmmaker in the first place. With this film, what we have is essentially Quentin Tarantino's version of George Lucas' "American Graffiti" (1973), an unapologetically swooning ode to the nostalgic dream of his childhood, complete with a wall-to-wall visual and sound collage starring a brilliantly methodical collection of sunshine pop songs, commercials, billboards, films and television programs, movie one-sheet posters, vehicles, cigarettes and fashion, all filtered through his explicitly unique cinematic vision.
As lush and as surprisingly tender as much of this film is, this is indeed Quentin Tarantino we are dealing with and he is wise to not ignore the dark undercurrent of the 1969 counter culture as well as the political and societal shifts due to the turbulent changing of the times that fully brought the season of peace and love to its crushing end. To that end "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" can also be seen as Tarantino's version of Joel and Ethan Coen's "No Country For Old Men" (2007), as we have our main characters aging most uncomfortably with the times and emerging into a world they are unable to comprehend let alone navigate.
Leonardo DiCaprio has once again demonstrated just why he is indeed one of the finest actors of his generation, as the fullness of his commitment and dedication shines through every solitary moment of his portrayal of Rick Dalton, which I am curious is somewhat of a representation of Tarantino's fears of possibly becoming creatively irrelevant--perhaps a reason as to why he has continued to pledge that his 10th film with be his last.
For as much as the film is also about white male bonding, friendships and patriarchy, both within Hollywood as well as the Charles Manson cult, it is also a film about white male fragility. With Rick Dalton, we have a figure who is so desperately clinging onto his persona, mythology and legacy in a time period that is moving beyond him and the threat of complete irrelevancy terrifies him, leading him into alcoholism, crying fits and hanging onto every complimentary word from a precocious child co-star (Julia Butters) on his latest villainous television guest spot.
On one hand, I was curious if this character was slightly modeled upon Clint Eastwood, or better yet, an Eastwood type figure if he had not navigated the Hollywood system as brilliantly and as artfully. Unlike Eastwood, who moved from television Westerns to the Sergio Leone "spaghetti Westerns" to becoming an filmmaking auteur, Rick Dalton is falling star rapidly becoming a man out of time, one who possesses conservative values and has bought into his own mythology to the degree that he is unable to figure out how to remain afloat in Hollywood...that is, unless he can finally meet his neighbor Sharon Tate and therefore her husband, Roman Polanski.
By contrast, Brad Pitt's characterization of Cliff Booth is one of still waters running deeply. Considerably lower on the Hollywood food chain than Rick Dalton, and essentially having Dalton as his meal ticket as well as best friend, Booth is considerably more grounded, streetwise, and accepting of his existence. Yes, he houses his laments but they are private and buried where Dalton's are out in the open. The juxtaposition of the steadfast (Booth) and fragility (Dalton) of the late 1960's white male ego regarding these two figures is compelling, as each of them are becoming relics and therefore obsolete.
Time waits for no one within Tarantino's film, and he is very clever with detailing the people and places that are not what once was, especially the location of Spahn Ranch, formerly the home of location shoots for B movie Western but by 1969 was the home of Charles Manson and his "family." This crucial element is indeed what leads the film and its characters to its climax where darkness falls and Tarantino finds himself in more familiar territory as the Manson family arrives to unleash their specialized brand of helter skelter.
As with both "Inglourious Basterds" and "Django Unchained," we also deal with some revisionist history as to how the Manson attacks play out. Yet, Tarantino's unique remixing of events and the merging of characters both real and from his imagination serve the entire, almost fairy tale quality of the film as we witness past and then-present collide fueled by Tarantino's urgent wishes that the Hollywood of his dreams can remain untainted and unscathed.
Yes indeed, there is a tremendous amount to unpack within "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" as Quentin Tarantino has clearly given this project his all and then some. And yet, I felt that something was absent. Now, truth be told, this is the first Tarantino film that essentially does not contain a story or a plot as it is essentially a portrait of a time and the figures that existed within that time. I appreciate him tremendously for challenging himself conceptually and taking this storytelling risk as he has always been a filmmaker devoted to the art of storytelling. While he has often delivered exceedingly lyrical imagery, there is no mistaking him for a filmmaker like Terrence Malick, so to speak, and I think the tone poem aspect of this film was slightly out of his directorial grasp.
Frankly, the film could used some serious editing! Aside from "Reservoir Dogs," Quentin Tarantino has made epic films, nearly all of them running over two hours and just shy of three hours and every time, he has held me riveted. With "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood," the mood was purposefully languid, the pacing deliberate, the tone meandering and at times, it was a bit...well...boring, something I have never felt in any Tarantino film thus far and the need for tightening felt necessary.
I look back to "Inglourious Basterds" and the character of Nazi Private First Class Fredrick Zoller (Daniel Bruhl), his starring role in the movie within the movie, the Nazi propaganda film "Nation's Pride" and the blurring of the lines between his on-screen persona as the Nazi who killed 250 opponents in a single battle and the real life solider. For that character, Tarantino gave us all that we really needed to know regarding the imagined film and the character while continuing to keep his narrative moving swiftly.
Yet, with "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood," we are subjected to extremely long sequences of Rick Dalton acting out scenes from his latest television performance (also blurring the lines within his head of his persona and who he is in reality as a fading celebrity), and therefore, also watching Sharon Tate watching herself in a movie theater and Rick and Cliff watching Rick's performances on television. A little of that goes a long way, as well as repetitive scenes of Cliff driving around Los Angeles and as I felt that Tarantino may have been purposefully attempting to lull us into the old Hollywood spell, it also felt as if he just did not know when to turn his attention away from those moments and just keep the film moving along with purpose.
Additionally, the ending of the film threw me as it is one that tonally runs completely in the opposite direction from all of his ending moments in his previous eight films. In fact, as the end credits began to appear, I thought to myself, in that Peggy Lee "Is That All There Is" fashion, "Oh..it's over?" And I just sat there n my theater seat, scratching my head.
Quentin Tarantino's "Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood" is a work that decidedly less orgiastic and more grounded and realistic, more like "Jackie Brown" (1997) and not as theatrical as the bulk of his output. Languid to a fault, it confused me, puzzled me, and did not quite entrance me as I think Tarantino may have intended. And yet, it has retained its grip upon me, quietly imploring me to return to it and revisit this time and place that contains so much importance and meaning to him.
While not his best film, it is absolutely essential to his ongoing filmography, and if it is indeed his penultimate motion picture, it makes me more than curious to see how Quentin Tarantino's story in the movies will come to a close.
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