Once Upon a Time in Hollywood  (2019)

Director: Quentin Tarantino

Stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Brad Pitt, Margot Robbie

Short Review, no spoilers

The setting of this hotly anticipated and characteristically stylish Quentin Tarantino movie is 1969 at the time and place of the Manson murders. A love letter to Hollywood generally, and eulogy to the Golden era, the film is naturally full of meticulously assembled period detail and pop culture references. Leading a cameo-riddled cast are the two biggest hitters in present day Hollywood, Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt, ironically playing two individuals rather low down in the industry food chain - a fading western star and his stunt double respectively. A double narrative thread incorporates Rick Dalton’s (DiCaprio) attempts to revive his career with a recreation of the events leading up to the night Sharon Tate (played by Margot Robbie) was murdered by Charles Manson-led hippy cult members. Engaging throughout, but brace yourself for a controversial depiction of Bruce Lee, and watch out for that ending – whatever it is or isn’t, it’s definitely not predictable.

Full Review (spoilers)

Here comes Tarantino over the Hollywood hills, wreaking a bizarre fantasy revenge on Charles Manson and the hippy cult that threatened to destroy the Dream Factory from within. Don’t look like he’s fooling around – or is he?

That’s the final scene by the way, which we can talk about now that the dust has settled. There is more to say about Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, a frustrating film if not because it could have been something quite good. Tarantino got critics (and China) in a real fizz over his latest, but it is his engagement with them that causes the film to suffer. There are moments, not least in the wacked-out finale, that can surely only be understood as such. The overcooked ending, which upends the whole thing and mocks anyone who invested in what had gone before, can only be seen as a personal reaction to the personal criticism that Mr T takes pleasure in violence against women. Such a consistently stoic bastion for the glories of traditional film-making practices and cinema-going should know better than to make fools of his audience, and to descend in to what I suggest is senseless provocation born out of personal beef.

The best moments of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood are where you feel like an actual film is being made, and one which, without Tarantino’s temperamental distractions, could have been entertaining and interesting. Touching on tensions between the hippy drop-outs and superstars co-existing in Hollywood in the late 1960s, which culminated in the dreadful carnage that occurred on that fateful night, there is a constant creeping sense of ominousness behind the faded, sunny façade of 35mm photographed California. It also sticks quite faithfully to documented accounts of the Manson murders before wildly re-writing history in the final act. His depiction of Spahn Ranch and some of the more notorious members of the Manson ‘family’ (Clem, Tex, and a brilliantly passive-aggressive turn by Dakota Fanning as Squeaky, who is wholly menacing even as she lounges in deadpan squalor) is hauntingly close to what is described in Vincent Bugliosi’s book, Helter Skelter. The result is genuinely chilling at times, not least when we catch a glimpse of the man himself, Charles Manson, grinning at the unwitting Sharon Tate as she stands on her doorstep.

As for the main players, I rated this as one of DiCaprio’s more assured performances and one in which I liked him very much as washed-up cowboy actor, Rick Dalton. As his stunt double and best buddy, Brad Pitt as Cliff Booth is effortlessly cool, a bemused smirk on his face throughout. The rapport between them is good but their relationship is underdeveloped – another aspect of the film that deserved more attention. Margot Robbie is also fine as Sharon Tate, and I found the scene in which she watches herself delightedly at a movie theatre alone quite endearing. Despite accusations that Tarantino is a poor creator of female characters, one of the successes of the film is Julia Butters as Trudi, Rick’s child co-star in the pilot they are shooting for a western TV series. The interaction between Butters and DiCaprio is a joy – she regards him with haughtiness at first, as he coughs heavily and spits, looking very old and uncouth next to the precocious little girl. The scene is of the two actors taking a break and contains dialogue more characteristic of traditional Tarantino – a natural, low-key and seemingly banal conversation between characters that subtly reveals significant aspects of their personalities. The conversation is both funny and moving, featuring a discussion about what books they’re reading which leads Rick to break down and confess his insecurities about his faltering career. In another scene, one amusing sideswipe at the misogyny accusers occurs when Rick throws Trudi to the floor while in character, only to apologise and ask if she’s ok. Trudi gamely replies in the affirmative, assuring him that she’s been practicing her falls – a clear reference to the furore over Uma Thurman’s treatment during the filming of Kill Bill, during which it was suggested that Tarantino is a fanatical bully.

Now, for the whole Bruce Lee thing - at best it will induce frown-and-puff-out puzzlement, but for anyone with even a vague idea of Lee’s iconic and legendary brilliance, it is surely jaw-drop horror and throw things at the screen stuff. What is inexplicable is that Tarantino is a Bruce Lee fan, so I really don’t know what he’s getting at other than being mindlessly provocative. Plenty has been said on this subject but I think ultimately we can bin it off to the category of silly and indefensible.

Where Tarantino does show a lot of respect is in his beloved homage to western TV shows of the era and their stars. In true pop culture referencing form, tribute is paid to shows such as Lancer and Bonanza, and stars such as James Stacy, Wayne Maunder and Ty Hardin, demonstrating his usual meticulous geek attention to detail in which you may or may not be interested. At first, I found myself growing impatient when I seemed to be watching a film within a film courtesy of the director’s over-indulgence. However, after delivering a lengthy and difficult speech in one take, which is devastatingly interrupted by his own failure to remember the rest of his lines, I realised that I was being invited to respect and admire what it is that Rick does. Performed excellently by DiCaprio, Rick’s frustration further demonstrates the high standards and professionalism he expects of himself, even in the ‘low-brow’ arena of 1960s TV westerns. It is moments such as these that are more poignant and effective in reflecting Tarantino’s desire to shine light on unacknowledged dime store entertainment heroes, rather than others where his heavy-handed demands that you love something as much as he does can become tedious.

Sadly, any potential the film has in these areas is spectacularly thrown in the bin at the finale. As my esteemed companion said on witnessing the debacle, a spaceship may as well have landed in the middle of it and the effect would have been the same. A stupid scene of extreme violence, the action is wildly overblown and badly filmed. As sickening as what you’re actually seeing is, the horror of it was lessened by the fact that it reminded me of the Farrelly brothers firing blanks – dumb but not funny. Tarantino used to do controversy with naturalism, style and wit, but it seems coolly delivered violence made alarming for its casualness is out, letting over-the-top, dumbass fantasy in.