Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and the appeal of the 60's.

I came. I saw. I was wow’ed.

Once Upon a Time… In Hollywood (2019, dir. by Quentin Tarantino) was everything I expected from him and more, based on all I had read leading up to the film’s release. Marked as his ninth film, and thankfully not his last, OUAT... in Hollywood is up there as yet another Quintessential Tarantino (haha, get it?)

Everyone is calling OUAT… in Hollywood Tarantino’s love letter to the 60’s, and I can see why. Tarantino is showing us all that was good and glorious in Hollywood before the legacy is handed over to a new group of talented leads. He poses even, a question for us — what if this generation had, dare I say, a happy ending? One where actors like struggling film lead Rick Dalton survive that inevitable demise of becoming outdated and old-fashioned? This speculation here is the genesis of the film's name.

Let's run through a Tarantino checklist, shall we? Excessive dialogue? Check. Seemingly unrelated, alternate storylines? Check. Scenes that you feel like should’ve ended 10 minutes ago but are still on, and they actually aren’t boring? Check. A disgusting, bloody ultimate fight scene that you can’t quite look away from? CHECK.

The friendship between Brad Pitt’s Cliff Booth and Leonardo DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton make the film especially entertaining. They are polar opposites, with Dalton obsessed with doing everything he can to keep his industry image in check while also fighting that looming and inevitable demise all icons face — becoming old, useless, unwanted. Part of the film is dedicated to Dalton's journey on navigating that compass of time, and the choices one has to make to further their work life and personal life.

Pitt’s character is a loyal stuntman and watchful best friend. As opposed to Dalton, he could not care less about the image he gives off. Though he is faced with circulating rumors that he killed his wife, Booth doesn’t exactly go out of his way to assert whether he’s guilty, or even plead for redemption. There is no "I want to be good again" message, no "please feel sorry me." Instead, he’s really just concerned with making a living to support his even more loyal and gluttonous companion, Brandy the dog. Booth is easy, calm, and amiable — doing everything he can and more for his friend, while quietly dealing with his own inner demons. What a chill dude he is.

Meanwhile, Margot Robbie’s Sharon Tate (who is the only character to have actually existed out of the core three) emulates all that was feminine and beautiful of the golden era. She dances, she skips, and she most memorably is just there to have A Good Time. In a way, it feels as though Tarantino’s vision of the era is one that is misogynistic because of her — though beautiful, his interpretation of Tate makes her seem vapid. She goes to the theater to watch her own film, finding reassurance in the audience’s reactions to her acting. There is, of course, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Tarantino is showing us what Hollywood thought of its leading ladies in the 60’s. Highlighting their misogyny, and telling us that although this was a sparkly decade, the underworking couldn't have been duller for women.

Either way, it’s an unsettling thought. I even find it more-so disheartening, because I came in expecting as much life and complexity from the legendary Sharon Tate as I did the men.

Tarantino’s interpretation of Bruce Lee is another cause for concern — or at least, discussion. Revered as one of The Greats, Lee was an established director and actor, on top of being one of the most famous martial artists of all time. In OUAT... in Hollywood he is diminished to a small, egotistical annoyance that we mainly just laugh at — especially when he’s hurdled unexpectedly into a car by Booth. It's degrading, and we make a mockery out of it. The film’s only Asian character — and BRUCE LEE of all people!

But perhaps, this once again was Tarantino’s hope; that we would see how Hollywood treated its minority money-makers. The good in me wants to believe this, and above all else, remember that Tarantino is an artist, not a social activist. (But keep in mind folks, you can be both!) Considering a solution such as this, however, I beg the question — can we really call this film a LOVE letter to the 60’s if that’s really what Tarantino wanted to show?

The thing is, films set in controversial eras are going to be controversial to some people.

Moving on, the nostalgia of entertainment's glamor era is very much alive in this film — particularly through its music. The soundtrack, which boasts a whopping 31 tracks, is not absent of the decade’s finest hits. On top of that, sprinkled in are classically and egregiously American advertisements. Tanya Tanning Butter, Numero Uno Cologne… even a KHJ Los Angeles Weather Report. It’s hilarious and perfect.

Tarantino fans will adore how each scene is so carefully shot, yet is so blunt in its delivery. Its a wonder to watch, even more wonderful on the big screen. There is intention in every angle, purpose in every still. Despite what I think on the development of Tarantino's characters themselves, I mostly enjoyed this film. It was artful and wove many intricate stories into one, despite the fact that only the white males had ones of substance.

Honorable mentions: Keep an eye out for Margaret Qualley; her character, a cult member and certified hippie flower child, is mesmerizing and funny. Austin Butler's Tex is equally so, along with slightly terrifying. You can catch him as Elvis Presley in Baz Luhrmann's upcoming biopic.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go listen to the soundtrack on repeat. You’d best do the same.