~findlay🔮🔪’s review published on Letterboxd:
my experience and thoughts of this was perfectly bottled in the two guys next to me:
from start to finish, they laughed at every single line. every song. every mention of a film. every advert. everything, even if presented not funny or not a funny thing, they laughed. now im not saying they didnt enjoy it or anything like that, but laughing and snickering at the past presented affectionately and relatably is something QT has fucked himself into being expected of. two mid-20s guys from falkirk giggling at old 60s tanning adverts, sergio corbuccis name, george peppard in Pendulum, the poster for Joanna, the trailer for C.C & Company. things they cant ever relate to, presented to them as a time in time, through the prism of QT is now (wether they know or care are real) as jocular as grindhouse stuff. yet again, all fine, but when basically the whole movie relies on indulgence of movies that are all-too-obscure, and better than the movie theyre in, it just kills every single thing in it.
not just a hollywood movie, not just a "cinephile" movie, but a fucking hollywood cinephile movie. no wonder they all love it
not much here feels earned in its revisionism, nor elevated by a CINEMATIQUE METAPLAYFULNESS. its just 2.5hrs of plodding mixed with some friendship and a lightly seasoned bit of historical murder.
summed up by one scene where QT shitbags it twice in the one go.
the "show me your ID" scene.
1. attempting to wipe his hands clean of the Weinstein/#MeToo/Non-consensual assault his friend perpetuated
2. pretending that stars/crew members in the 60s werent fucking underagers, scared to point that knife in the direction of hollywood and making it just glassy-eyed, thus making point 1. even more obvious to why he done fuck all at the time.
not sure much of this made sense, ive not eaten since 12