Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood

Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood ½

once upon a time in hollywood is a 3hr forced fart w the narrative structure of a never ending family guy episode that’s equal parts soulless & tone deaf

rarely has a film worked so long & hard to say so little. really impressed that QT decided the response to his role in the Weinstein narrative, Uma’s NYT oped, and the #MeToo movement is to have Lena Dunham walk on screen to say “we love pussy,” writing a confounding revisionist history where maybe Polanski doesn’t go to that party, and including lazy jabs showing how film “was never a safe space for women” and then doubling down on that with the most thinly written female characters that are photographed purely through ass + feet shots as well as: portraying Roman Polanski in a positive light, casting Emile Hirsch, largely featuring relationships that are older men + women in their teens. it’s like a carnival of all the ugly shit in hollywood with nothing to say about it other than, “just the way things are”

it’s the equivalent of Adam McKay condemning Fast & the Furious for the rise of Bush + dumbed down culture in Vice and failing to remember his dorky ass directed Step Brothers

out 👏🏼 of 👏🏼 touch 👏🏼

sure, it has gorgeous production design — but what does the film do with it? there’s no life to any of it. it’s dressed up streets for the purpose of spectacle. also, LA has looked MUCH better on film (see: Thief, Short Cuts). 

it’s a bummer this is being so applauded in film circles because films like this do more damage for the medium than good. I don’t want another generation of foot shots + casual racism. truly, I can’t remember if Margot Robbie even had a line in the film. that’s a bummer 

this is a lazy, boring exercise that exists solely for tarantino to romanticize a largely vile & evil institution (hollywood) and posit that American film is the end all be all, ultimately, feels a little ~bit~ like a reductionist approach and more like a MAGA movie than some hip mainstream art film. it’s the ultimate sign of a filmmaker out of touch. it’s another dull + offensive white male triumph narrative that exists to say — hey look how much I know about old shit 

also, I like Inglorious Basterds. the guy is capable of making a good film, but this is far, far from that.

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