John Ruth (Kurt Russell) is a bounty hunter shackled to his latest catch, Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh). Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson) is another bounty hunter. Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins) claims to be the new sheriff in town. General Sandy Smithers (Bruce Dern) is also there, along with cowpuncher Joe Gage (Michael Madsen), dandy Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), and Bob (Demian Bichir), a mountain of a man in a huge fur coat.
And at least one--possibly more--of these strangers is lying about who/what they are. And a deadly confrontation looms.
Sound interesting? It's not.
In fact, The Hateful Eight is a tortuously slow, dull, uninteresting mess served up by cinematic magpie Quentin Tarantino, whose first few movies I loved to pieces, especially Pulp Fiction and Jackie Brown, but whose recent output has left me cold. Those movies didn't frustrate, even anger, me, though, like The Hateful Eight.
Here, Tarantino has assembled a stellar cast, has set them down in a spectacular location and has shot the film using 70mm cameras handled by Oscar-winning cinematographer Robert Richardson.
Why, then, is this movie so goddamn dull?
Maybe it's because, after having gathered a great cast, several of whom have worked with Tarantino before, the writer/director doesn't give them much to do except stand around in period clothes and talk at each other.
And talk. And talk. And. Talk.
There are bursts of action, but these are so infrequent that viewers might be forgiven if they take naps between bursts. And the performances are so universally broad that the viewer could easily mistake The Hateful Eight for a live-action cartoon--with a lot more swearing and blood, of course.
I watched The Hateful Eight all the way through, hoping there would be a twist or explanation or something to redeem the nearly three hours I'd spent with all these unlikable, murderous folks.
But no such relief arrived. The pain only ended when the credits rolled.
No comments:
Post a Comment