By Brett Blake Every new Quentin Tarantino film is an event, made even more so by his pledge to retire from directing after his tenth picture. ONCE UPON A TIME... IN HOLLYWOOD is (by his particular math) his ninth, and though it is the weakest he’s made in over a decade, it is still an entertaining, idiosyncratic, and engaging piece of work, and it lives up to being billed as an “event” even if it is far from flawless. The film centers around Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt), an actor and his stuntman, respectively, who find themselves unsure of their futures in the Hollywood of 1969. Dalton’s career has taken a downward turn, forcing him to accept “Guest Starring” roles on TV shows, and he feels as though he’s just about washed-up, a feeling compounded by the presence of his newly-successful neighbors, director Roman Polanski and his wife, actress Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie). And that’s really all that can be said about the plot. Not because of spoilers (though there are “spoilery” developments that a person wouldn’t want to know going in), but because that really is the extent of the capital-P Plot. This is one of the most narratively-unfocused screenplays Tarantino has written so far, which actually may not be a huge criticism depending on ones taste. It opens strong and closes REALLY strong, but the midsection sags in a quite pronounced way. The middle hour has a bit of an aimless, listless quality that threatens to feel like pure bloat at times (and many may find it to be pure bloat rather than just a threat of such). Tarantino is kind of known for expanded running times, and he often seems to relish taking his time and allowing the audience to just sort of exist with his characters during quite lengthy scenes, but this movie takes that to a whole other level. Nobody could be faulted for coming away thinking this second act is quite self-indulgent. At the same time, all the individual scenes are strong; it’s just that some ultimately feel less essential in advancing a plot. To the extent that there is a plot, anyway. This is easily Tarantino’s most laid-back film since JACKIE BROWN, and it seems to delight in being fairly free-wheeling and expansive with its subject. Tarantino eschews plot momentum in favor of letting scenes with these characters breathe (really breathe), and while that does result in some fabulous moments, it’s hard to get a handle on where it’s all headed (and not in a “I can’t wait to see where this goes!” way, but a “Really, where is this going?” way). It has a story -- an actor and his stuntman navigate the changing waters of Hollywood while keeping their friendship intact -- but not a terribly strong narrative. It’s more a series of semi-connected incidents... followed by an ending. Things do eventually click into place for that climax, but by that point, it’s very possible that the movie’s distinct lack of tension and intrigue up until then may have already resulted in some viewers mentally checking out. That didn’t happen for me, but it almost certainly will for some. In the script’s favor, however, is its tone, which is almost shockingly good-natured, even affable. What it lacks in a grandiose scheme or caper or mystery, it makes up for with a truly affectionate look at the cinema and television of the late 1960s. You can feel, perhaps more here than in any of his other films because of this specific subject matter, Tarantino’s unadulterated love for this stuff pouring off the screen at basically every moment. Coupled with that, the central friendship between DiCaprio’s Rick Dalton and Pitt’s Cliff Booth is really quite wonderful, perhaps even approaching downright sweet. Both performers ace these parts, and while Pitt - on the surface - has the more conventionally “fun” role, DiCaprio performs a quite impressive juggling act of making Dalton kind of comically pathetic at times, but also sad in a way that gets us on his side and keeps us there when the more abrasive parts of his personality (heightened by booze) rise to the surface. The supporting ensemble players all do some very fine work, as well. Margot Robbie as Sharon Tate is more an embodiment of an idea than an actual, rounded character, but Robbie is thoroughly charming and sunny throughout. The likes of Al Pacino and Kurt Russell, both old pros by this point, pop up for some fun cameo-style bits that remind us they’re actually quite adept at comedy. In fact, there’s a lot of comedy in here. I’d classify ONCE UPON A TIME... IN HOLLYWOOD as more a comedy than anything else, actually. Tarantino’s ear for dialogue remains incredibly impressive, and he crafts more chuckle-eliciting exchanges and beats here than you’ll probably find in any other movie this year. And without getting spoilery, the movie is ultimately a rather positive statement from Tarantino. It doesn’t have a rousing, crowd-pleasing finale of the sort that INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS and DJANGO UNCHAINED delivered, but it also doesn’t leave the viewer with the bleak discomfort of THE HATEFUL EIGHT. I left the movie feeling like I'd been on a (very long and very winding) journey that was ultimately worth the time it took to take... but perhaps only just barely. This is clearly the movie Tarantino set out to make, and we should always appreciate when a filmmaker is given the chance to play out his vision on such a large scale, especially when the final product is, on balance, a good one.
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