The Hateful Eight

Rob and I went up to Denver to watch The Hateful Eight this past weekend.  It would be convenient to say that I must be outgrowing Quentin Tarantino, but that’s not the truth.  I recently re-watched Pulp Fiction  and found its editing, cinematography, and writing to be just as impressive today as they were twenty years ago. 

I suggest that Tarantino hasn’t improved as he’s gotten older; “If you mean it turns to vinegar, it does. If you mean it gets better with age, it don't”.  Instead of maturing as a writer/director, Tarantino has become increasingly obsessed with graphic (albeit cartoonish) violence.  I really don’t understand why, perhaps it is his response to accusations of being a maker of violent films.  As the great film critic Roger Ebert so astutely pointed out, Pulp Fiction is an effective movie thanks to dialogue which is so disarming that the moments of violence have greater impact.

The Hateful Eight starts out with about one hour of a Quentin Tarantino movie that I want to watch, then quickly and completely deteriorated into a bloodbath – and I’m not using literary flourishes.  The first hour of the film centers around two post-Civil War bounty hunters played by Samuel L. Jackson and Kurt Russell travelling together in a stagecoach along with a prisoner played by Jennifer Jason Leigh.  Russell brings an amalgamation of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holiday to his character, while Jackson reprises his role as Jules from Pulp Fiction.  So far, so good; we get to hear bounty hunters talking about everyday things – all very Tarantinoesque.  As a blizzard overtakes the travelers they must take shelter at a lodge, where the remaining characters are introduced.  For a time this change of scenery seems promising; unfortunately people start poisoning, stabbing, shooting, and hanging each other; clever dialogue and interesting characters are replaced by violence and blood.

If it weren’t for the existence of Django, I might have understood this drastic departure for Tarantino; this time it just seems like pointless excess.  I can forgive Tarantino for recycling some of his own ideas and themes, but his new-found obsession with blood splatter is annoying at best.  As I’ve contemplated the film, I remain impressed by the cinematography and setting (it was filmed here in Colorado), I really enjoyed the first hour, but overall I was disappointed…  Quentin Tarantino can do so much better than this.

Quentin Tarantino achieved a level of greatness when he allowed his characters to be redeemable; Butch and Jules perform selfless acts in Pulp Fiction… I just ran out of examples.  On the other hand is The Hateful Eight; no one deserves to walk out of that lodge alive, and maybe I shouldn’t have expected to enjoy the experience either.