Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood

Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood ★★★

This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.

This review may contain spoilers.

Sometimes the problem is me. At the first utterance of a new QT movie, my ticket was purchased. Baby, I am there. I don't need to see any trailers or posters, or any of that jazz. Tarantino has proven himself again and again that he is a master, period. And in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, he proves he is a period master.

This whole review could gush about the authenticity of the film, how impressive it is to see long highway shots that are bursting with cars from 1969, and the pitch-perfect needle drops that accompany every scene.

But other than that, to me, this was a story that did not need telling. The alternate-reality ending just made me sad. Unlike in Basterds, where we get to cheer along with glee as Hitler gets his face pummeled in with bullets, seeing the Manson murderers be turned into bumbling goofos didn't hit home.

Also, the treating of Polanski was uncomfortable. Ever read about his rape case with 13-year-old Samantha Gailey? I have never before, but just gave it a Wikipedia. "Despite her protests, he performed oral, vaginal, and anal sex acts upon her, each time after being told 'no' and being asked to stop." But let's talk about how he is the best director in the world? It's too woven up in everything Weinstein.

I felt drained at the end. Almost empty and sad. This could have been a different story, one that focused on the bromance between Pitt and Dicaprio.

Sure, it would have been great for Sharon Tate to have gone on living, had her baby, had a career and a nice long life, but it didn't happen. She was just another cog in another fucked up dude's version of a perfect world.

Hollywood is a bad, horrible place, especially for vulnerable women, and this is the first time that a QT film has made me dislike the idealized romance of film.

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