Irwan Nur Rizqi’s review published on Letterboxd:
This film and its somber personality is madly in love with Sharon Tate. Like an unreachable muse, almost too shy with its camera to picture her grace, her genuine soulful presence. Almost never too close, we rarely see her speaks a lot. It's like that one big crush that's too beautiful not to look, yet too intimidating to break the ice and devour the start of connections. And as a punch-drunk loser like the character it brought, the sensitive yet hysterical Rick Dalton, the closest we can see both of them really communicate is only at the very last scenes of the film. After the film protected her from the should-be killers. After the carnage it made from its revenge fantasy.
A beautiful make-believe from its pathos. Between the beautiful sequence of city lights that light in rhythm, to the city road that's full of life and constantly moving. And its sense of humor, cracking here and there to live the life. So nostalgic you can almost smell that certain smell that could trigger certain memory to be brought from your heart. Gasoline, fresh new paint, fragrance of perfume you used to love. And a face. A happy face that looks excited to strike a pose beside the big poster she's in. An almost childlike smile in front of the theater. A smile of a girl that couldn't wait to watch a film she's in.
Once upon a time in Hollywood, Sharon Tate is still in her bedroom. Smiling wide with her eyes wide shut, jingling her happy feet to the movement of the dance she happily invented.
Added to Quentin Tarantino Films Ranked.