No other singular person in the world of cinema has given
more credence to the importance of the screenwriter than Quentin Tarantino. He’s
basically an alternate reality version of Randal from Clerks who decided that,
rather than bitching about how shit movies are nowadays, actually did something
about it and began making his own. After starting off his career with a loud
bang with the festival success of Reservoir Dogs, he continued to carve a name
for himself with his unique approach to character writing and his homage-heavy
fan-boy sensibilities as a story-teller. Unless we’re talking about the
film-about-nothing Death Proof or the comedic abomination that is It’s Pat, you’d
be hard-pressed to find a film in his filmography that is abjectly bad. So,
naturally, when news hit about his latest release, weather reports also came in
of a tidal wave of fan-boy drool that threatened to destroy the world. Then
there was news of Tarantino taking the film on a roadshow screening tour of
Australia, in crisp 70MM film stock. Would probably lose my buff card if I didn’t attend something like that, so
bear in mind that everything that follows may differ from the traditional
theatrical release as the version I watched was an extended cut. This is The
Hateful Eight.
Showing posts with label django. Show all posts
Showing posts with label django. Show all posts
Sunday, 17 January 2016
The Hateful Eight (2016) - Movie Review
Labels:
2016,
action,
bichir,
channing tatum,
comedy,
dern,
django,
ennio morricone,
goggins,
kurt russell,
madsen,
mahan,
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review,
samuel l jackson,
tarantino,
tim roth,
western
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