Fritz Lewis’s review published on Letterboxd:
50 years ago, on one of the most tragic nights Hollywood has ever known, the last words Sharon Tate, pleading for her and her baby's life, ever heard were:
"Look, bitch, I don't care about you. I don't care if you're going to have a baby. You had better be ready. You're going to die, and I don't feel anything about it."
Fifty years later, for the third time in the cinema, I witnessed the cesspool of ginger flesh who spoke those words have her face smashed repeatedly into a pulp.
I watched her equally bitchy and sadistic friend be ripped apart by a dog and burnt to a crisp.
I watched, in joy, as Tex Watson's 6'2 body of human trash was neutered and then curb stomped.
With all due respect to Miss Tate and the fucked up things that happened to those innocent people that night, I think we all wish it went down Tarantino's way. And seeing it his way is like a blessing from god himself... Ironically, and ultimately... by the last couple of minutes... one of the sweetest things I've ever seen.
Thank god for fucking cinema.