Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Walton Goggins, Demián Bichir, Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern
OUR RATING: ★★★☆☆
Story:
Western drama written and directed by Quentin Tarantino. Set after the Civil War, The Hateful Eight (2015) centers on eight strangers. On a stagecoach going through the wintry Wyoming landscape the passengers, bounty hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell), his fugitive Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh), Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), a black former union soldier turned infamous bounty hunter, and Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), a southern renegade who claims to be the town’s new Sheriff, lose their lead in a blizzard. The passengers seek refuge at Minnie’s Haberdashery, where they are greeted by four unfamiliar faces. Bob (Demián Bichir), Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), the hangman of Red Rock, cow-puncher Joe Gage (Michael Madsen), and Confederate General Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern). As the storm overtakes the mountainside stopover the eight strangers slowly realize that their mysterious connection might prevent them from getting home safe.
Our Favorite Quotes:
'Waiting for an opportunity, and knowing it’s the right one, isn’t so easy. - John Ruth (The Hateful Eight) Click To Tweet
Best Quotes
Chapter One: Last Stage to Red Rock
Major Marquis Warren: I don’t want to work that hard.
John Ruth: No one said the job was supposed to be easy.
Major Marquis Warren: No one said it was supposed to be that hard, neither. But that, little lady, is why they call him “the hangman”. When the handbill says dead or alive, the rest of us shoot you in the back from up on top of a perch somewhere, bring you in dead over a saddle. But when John Ruth, The Hangman, catches you, you don’t die from no bullet in the back. When The Hangman catches you, you hang.
John Ruth: You overrate them, n*****.
Chapter Two: Son of a Gun
John Ruth: Why did they have a reward on you?
Major Marquis Warren: The Confederates took exception to my capacity for killing them. After I broke out of Wellenbeck, The South took my continued existence as a personal affront. So the cause put a reward on my head.
John Ruth: What’s Wellenbeck?
Sheriff Chris Mannix: You ain’t never heard of Wellenbeck prisoner of war camp, West Virginia?
John Ruth: No Reb, I ain’t never heard of it! You bust out?
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Major Marquis did more than bust out. Major Marquis had a bright idea. So bright you got to wonder why nobody never thought about it before. Tell John Ruth about your bright idea.
Major Marquis Warren: Well the whole damn place was just made out of kindling. So I burnt it down.
[Warren, Ruth and Daisy start laughing]
Sheriff Chris Mannix: There was a rookie regiment spending the overnight in that camp. Forty-seven men burnt to a crisp. Southern youth, farmer’s sons, cream of the crop.
Major Marquis Warren: And I say, “Let them burn.” I’m supposed to apologize for killing Johnny Reb? You joined the war to keep n*****s in chains. I joined the war to kill White Southern Crackers. That means killing them anyway I can. Shoot them. Stab them. Drown them. Burn them. Drop a big old rock on their head. Whatever it took to put White Southern Crackers in the ground that’s what I joined the war to do, and that’s what I did.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: To answer your question, John Ruth, when Major Marquis burned forty-seven men alive, for no more a reason then to give a n***** a run for the trees, that’s when The South put a reward on the head of Major Marquis.
Major Marquis Warren: And I made them trees, Mannix. And you best believe I ain’t look back till I crossed the Northern line.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Oh, but you had a surprise waiting for you on the Northern side, didn’t you? See once they started pulling out all them burnt bodies at Wellenbeck, it seems not all of them boys were Rebs. Well you burnt up some of your own boys, didn’t you, Major? How many burnt prisoners they end up finding? Wasn’t the final Yankee death count something like thirty-seven?
Major Marquis Warren: That’s the thing about war, Mannix, people die.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Oh. So you go chalking it up to “War is hell”, huh? Well, admittedly, that is a hard argument to argue with. But if memory serves, your side didn’t look at it that way. I think they thought, thirty-seven white men for one n***** wasn’t so hot a trade. I do believe they accused you of being a kill crazy n***** who only joined the war to kill white folks and the whole Blue and Grey of it all didn’t really much matter to you. And that’s why they drummed your bl**k a** out of the Cavalry with a yellow stripe down your back. Isn’t it, Major?
John Ruth: Horses**t! If he did all that, the Cavalry would’ve shot him.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Well I didn’t say they could prove it. But they sure did think it out loud, didn’t they, Major? But Warren’s war record was stellar, and that’s what saved his a**. Now you killed yourself your share of redskins in your day, didn’t you, Black Major? Cavalry tends to look kindly on that.
John Ruth: I’ll tell you what the Cavalry didn’t look kindly on. Mannix’s Marauders, that’s what. And the fact that Erskine Mannix’s little boy would talk about anybody else’s behavior during war time makes me want to horse laugh.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Don’t you say anything about my daddy, what he fought for was dignity in defeat and against the unconditional surrender. We weren’t foreign barbatians pounding on the city walls, we were your brothers. We deserved dignity in defeat.
Major Marquis Warren: Just how many n***** towns did you all sack in your fight for dignity in defeat?
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Oh, my fair share, Black Major. Because when n*****s are scared, that’s when white folks are safe.
Major Marquis Warren: [points his gun at Mannix’s head] You going to talk that hateful n***** talk, you ride up top with OB.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: No. No, no, no, no, no. You got done me talking politics. I didn’t want to. Like I said you all, I’m just happy to be alive. I think I’ll scoot over here right by this window and let this beautiful carriage rock me to sleep and dream about how lucky I am.
[he leans against the window and pulls down his hat over his eyes, Warren looks over to Ruth and Daisy]
Chapter Three: Minnie’s Haberdashery
John Ruth. [to the people in the haberdashery] I’m bringing in this one to Red Rock to hang. ain’t no way I’m spending a couple of nights under a roof with somebody I don’t know who you they are. And I don’t know who you are. So, who are you?
John Ruth: This here is Daisy Domergue. She’s wanted dead or alive for murder. Ten thousand dollars. That money’s mine boys. Don’t want to share it, I ain’t going to lose it. When that sun comes out, I’m taking this woman into Red Rock to hang. Now, is there anybody here committed to stopping me from doing that?
John Ruth: [as nobody replies] Really? Nobody got a problem with this? Well, I guess that’s very fortunate for me. However, I hope you all understand, I can’t just take your word. Circumstances force me to, take precautions.
Oswaldo Mobray: Well, well, well. Looks like Minnie’s Haberdashery is about to get cozy for the next few days.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Yes, it does.
Oswaldo Mobray: Are you the chap with the Lincoln letter?
Sheriff Chris Mannix: The Lincoln what?
Oswaldo Mobray: The letter from Abraham Lincoln?
Sheriff Chris Mannix: President Abraham Lincoln?
Oswaldo Mobray: Yes. Weren’t you pen pals?
Sheriff Chris Mannix: With the President?
Oswaldo Mobray: I’m sorry, I heard that somebody in your party had a letter from Abraham Lincoln, I assumed it was you.
John Ruth: Not him! The bl**k fella in the stable.
Oswaldo Mobray: The n***** in the stable has a letter from Abraham Lincoln?
John Ruth: Yeah.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: The n***** in the stable has a letter from Abraham Lincoln?
Oswaldo Mobray: [to Daisy and Ruth] Now, you’re wanted for murder. For the sake of my analogy, let’s just assume that you did it. John Ruth wants to take you back to Red Rock to stand trail for murder. And, if you’re found guilty, the people of Red Rock will hang you in the town square, and as the hangman, I will perform the execution. And if all those things end up taking place, that’s what civilized society calls “justice”. However, if the relatives and the loved ones of the person you murdered were outside that door right now, and after busting down that door, they’d drug you out in the snow and hung you up by the neck. That would be frontier justice. Now the good part about frontier justice is it’s very thirst quenching. The bad part is it’s apt to be wrong as right.
John Ruth: Not in your case. In your case, you’d have it coming. But other people, maybe not so much.
Oswaldo Mobray: But ultimately what’s the real difference between the two? The real difference is me, The Hangman. To me, it doesn’t matter what you did, when I hang you, I will get no satisfaction from your death, it’s my job. I hang you in Red Rock, I move on to the next town, I hang someone else there. The man who pulls the lever that breaks your neck will be a dispassionate man. And that dispassion is the very essence of justice, for justice delivered without dispassion, is always in danger of not being justice.
John Ruth: Amen.
John Ruth: We still got that deal we talked about in the wagon? I help you protect your eight thousand, you help me protect my ten?
Major Marquis Warren: Yeah, I suppose.
John Ruth: One of them fellas is not what he says he is.
O.B Jackson: What is he?
John Ruth: [referring to Daisy] He’s in cahoots with this one that’s what he is. One of them, maybe even two of them, is here to see Domergue goes free. And to accomplish that goal, they’ll kill everybody in here. And they got them a couple of days, so all they got to do is sit tight and wait for a window of opportunity. And that’s when they strike, huh b**ch?
Daisy Domergue: If you say so, John.
Major Marquis Warren: Are you sure you ain’t just being paranoid?
John Ruth: Our best bet is this duplicitous fella ain’t as cool a customer as Daisy here. He won’t have the leather patience it takes to just sit here and wait. But waiting for an opportunity, and knowing it’s the right one, isn’t so easy. If he can’t handle it, he’ll stop waiting. He’ll try and create his opportunity and that’s when Mr. Jumpy reveals himself.
Major Marquis Warren: And what do you got to say about all this?
Daisy Domergue: What do I got to say? About John Ruth’s ravings? He’s absolutely right. Me and one of them fellas is in cahoots and we’re just waiting for everybody go to sleep. That’s when we going to kill you all.
General Sandy Smithers: You knew my boy?
Major Marquis Warren: Yeah. Yeah, I knew him.
General Sandy Smithers: You did not know my boy.
Major Marquis Warren: Suit yourself.
General Sandy Smithers: Did you know my son?
Major Marquis Warren: I know the day he died. Do you?
General Sandy Smithers: No.
Major Marquis Warren: You want to know what day that was? The day he met me. He came up here to do a little n***** head hunting. By then the reward was five thousand and bragging rights. But back then to battle hard rebs, five thousand to cut off a n*****’s head, now that’s good money. So the Johnny’s climbed this mountain, looking for fortune. But there was no fortune to be found. All they found was me. All them fellas came up here sang a different tune, when they found themselves at the mercy of a n*****’s gun. “Let’s just forget it. I go my way, you go yours”. That’s your boy Chester talking
General Sandy Smithers: You a Goddamn liar.
Major Marquis Warren: “If you just let me go home to my family, I’ll swear, I’ll never set foot in Wyoming again.” That’s what they all said. Begging for his life. Your boy told me his whole life story. And you was in that story, General. And when I knew me I had the son of the bloody n***** killer of Baton Rouge I knew me I was going to have some fun.
General Sandy Smithers: You shut your lying n***** lips up!
Major Marquis Warren: It was cold the day I killed your boy. And I don’t mean snowy mountain in Wyoming cold, it was colder than that. And on that cold day, with your boy at the business end of my gun barrel I made him strip. Right down to his bare a**, then I told him to start walking. I walked his naked a** for two hours, ‘fore his cold collapsed him.
General Sandy Smithers: You never even knew my boy?
Major Marquis Warren: Then he commits to begging again. But this time, he wasn’t begging to go home. He knew he’d never see his home again. He wasn’t begging for his life neither, because he knew that was long gone. All he wanted was a blanket. Now don’t judge your boy too harshly, General. You ain’t never been cold as your boy was that day. You’d be surprised what a man that cold would do for a blanket. want to know what your boy did? I took my big, bl**k p**ker out of my pants. And I made him crawl through the snow on all fours over to it. Then I grabbed me a handful of that black hair on the back his head, then I stuck my big, bl**k Johnson right down his goddamn throat. And it was full of blood, so it was warm. You bet your sweet a** it was warm. And Chester Charles Smithers s*cked on that warm bl**k dingus for long as he could. Starting to see pictures, ain’t you? Your boy, bl**k dudes dingus in his mouth, him shaking, him crying, me laughing, and him not understanding. But you understand, don’t you, Sandy? I never did give your boy that blanket. Even after all he did, and he did everything I asked. No blanket. That blanket was just a heart breaking a liar’s promise. Kind of like those uniforms the union issued those colored troopers, that you chose not to acknowledge. So what you going to do, old man? You going to spend the next two or three days ignoring the n***** that killed your boy? Ignoring how I made him suffer? Ignoring how I made him lick all over my Johnson? The dumbest thing your boy ever did was to let me know he was your boy.
Chapter Four: Domergue’s Got a Secret
Daisy Domergue: When you get to hell, John, tell them Daisy sent you.
John Ruth: [strikes down Ruth] Mannix, the coffee!
Major Marquis Warren: [pointing his gun at Daisy’s head after she’s killed Ruth] Give me that f***ing gun. Don’t test me, b**ch.
Major Marquis Warren: Everybody keep your mouth shut and do like I say. You open your mouth, you going to get a bullet. You move a little sudden or a little strange, you going to get a bullet. Not a warning, not a question, a bullet. You got that? Let me hear you say “I got it”.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: I got it.
Joe Gage: I got it.
Bob: I got it.
Oswaldo Mobray: We have it.
Major Marquis Warren: [to Mannix] Now like I said, anybody does anything. And I mean, anything. Kill them.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: So you finally decided I’m telling the truth about being the sheriff of Red Rock, huh?
Major Marquis Warren: I don’t know about all that. But I know you ain’t the killer who poisoned that coffee because you almost drunk it your own damn self. But one of them is.
Daisy Domergue: You m**herf***ing bl**k b****rd! You’re going to die on this mountain and I’m going to f***ing laugh when you do!
Major Marquis Warren: What’d I say about talking? Meant it, didn’t I? And you need to understand, you killed the only man here committed to getting you to Red Rock alive.
Major Marquis Warren: Now, one of you all is working with her. Or two of you all is working with her. Or all you all is but only one of you poisoned the coffee. So what charms this b**ch got, take a man brave a blizzard, kill in cold blood, I’m sure I don’t know. But John Ruth’s trying to hang your woman, so you kill him. Okay, maybe. But O.B. wasn’t hanging nobody. He damn sure would. But he sure enough led over there dead now, though, ain’t he? He damn sure is, you sons of b**ches. Just like any one of us who would’ve drank that coffee. Like me, goddammit. Now those of you all with your hands on the wall don’t practice in poison need to think about that. Think about how it could’ve been you rolling around here on this floor. And about the men standing next to you would be responsible.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: And I know who I got my money on. Yeah, that’s right, Joe Gage, I’m looking at you.
Major Marquis Warren: Not so fast, Chris. We’ll get there. Let’s slow it down. Let’s slow it way down.
Major Marquis Warren: Who made the coffee?
Bob: [referring to Ruth’s dead body] He did.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Yeah, he did, didn’t he?
Major Marquis Warren: Yeah, he did, didn’t he? But it’s the stew that’s got me thinking.
Major Marquis Warren: See, my mama used to make stew. And it always tasted the same, no matter the meat. And there was another fellow on the plantation, Uncle Charlie. He made stew too and like my mama’s. I ate his stew from the time I was a whipper, to I was a full grown man. And no matter the meat, it always tasted like Uncle Charlie’ stew. Now I ain’t had Minnie’s stew in six months, so I ain’t no expert, but that damn sure is Minnie’s stew. So if Minnie’s on the North side visiting her mama for a week, how’d she make the stew this morning? And this? This is Sweet Dave’s chair. When I sat in it earlier, I couldn’t believe it. Nobody sits in Sweet Dave’s chair. Now this may be Minnie’s place, but this is damn sure Sweet Dave’s chair. And if he went to the North side I’m pretty Goddamn sure this chair’s be going with him.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: What’s in the chair?
Major Marquis Warren: Just what I thought. Sweet Dave’s goddamn blood.
Bob: So are you actually accusing me of murder?
Major Marquis Warren: The way I see it, Senior Bob, is whoever’s working with her, ain’t who they say they is. And if it’s you, that means Minnie and her man ain’t at her mama’s, they’re lying out back there dead somewhere. Or if it’s you, little British man, the real Oswaldo Mobray is lying in a ditch somewhere and you’re just an English fella passing off his papers.
Sheriff Chris Mannix: Or we go by my theory, which is the ugliest guy did it. Which makes it you, Joe Gage.
Bob: So I take it you’ve deduced the coffee was poisoned while you were murdering the old man?
Major Marquis Warren: Yeah.
Bob: Well, mi n**** amigo, during that whole incident I was sitting on that side of the room, playing “Silent Night” on the piano.
Major Marquis Warren: Oh, I didn’t say you poisoned the coffee. I said you didn’t make the stew.
Major Marquis Warren: [to Bob] My theory is you’re working with the man who poisoned the coffee. And both of you all murdered Minnie, Sweet Dave and whoever else picked this bad luck day to visit Minnie’s Haberdashery this morning. And at some point, you all intented to bushwhack John Ruth and free Daisy. But you didn’t count on the blizzard and you didn’t count on the two of us. That’s as far as I got. How am I doing?
Bob: Your a real imaginative n*****, ain’t you? So, do you intend to murder me based on a far fetched n***** theory? Or can you prove it, cabrone?
Major Marquis Warren: [laughing] It ain’t so far fetched, Senior Bob. And it’s a little bit more than my theory.
Major Marquis Warren: How long you say you been working for Minnie’s?
Bob: Four months.
Major Marquis Warren: If you’d have been here two and half years ago, you’d know about the sign used to hang above the bar. Minnie mentioned that to you?
Bob: No.
Major Marquis Warren: You know what that sign said, Senior Bob? “No dogs or Mexicans allowed.” Minnie hung that sign up the day she opened this haberdashery. And it hung over that bar every day till she took it dowm a little over two years ago. You know why she took it down? She started letting in dogs.
Trailer:
We watched The Hateful Eight yesterday and was extremely disappointed. Not only was there no story line, or an undetectable one at most, but the language and violence was beyond anything I have ever watched. I think the fact that the violence and the language seemed very much NOT a part of any story line. It seemed that even the acting was pitiful! I cannot figure out what sort of personality would even consider the movie a western as touted. Very disappointing!
Hello everybody! This is my second movie review on this site, upon the successful posting of my Star Wars: The Force Awakens review, which really spurred me to write more. This time, I am very excited to share with you an amazing experience I had over the past week. A friend of mine who lives in Los Angeles invited me over to watch The Hateful Eight (a film I have been eagerly awaiting to check out) in the best unadulterated viewing experience one could have for this film. Yes, I’m referring to true Panavision 70mm projected screen at The Landmark Cinema, which was a real treat for the senses, and which was the real intention that director Quentin Tarantino had for audiences to enjoy his film. It’s a rare treat for me, to be amongst like-minded cinema lovers, which also warrants gifts of higher value for my pal this Christmas. My home country, Singapore, unfortunately does not offer 70mm projected theaters, but I am hoping to watch this film again when it is released on 21 January 2016 (very late), and I do hope that my fellow countrymen will be able to at the very least witness this film in its full 3 hours 7 minutes roadshow duration instead of the reduced general release duration. Anyway, on to the review.
WARNING: THE FOLLOWING REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION!
I have a confession to make. Hours before going to the cinema, I decided to download the leaked first draft script of the film, and I read all 147 pages of it. It was really well-written, and part of the excitement was to see how those pages translated to visual images. There was a great deal of hype because this was Quentin Tarantino going back to basics, which means writing scripts that he wanted to, not just for the sake of mainstream audiences unlike his previous two films, Django Unchained and Inglourious Basterds. This one was more like Reservoir Dogs. With a budget of $40 million, it really is a good ol’ western stripped of over-the-top set pieces and action sequences, to just present its raw and intense nerve-jangling story, told through the expositions of the characters. And there is a lot of exposition. So let’s start with that.
Now, Quentin Tarantino is a true auteur of detailed characters complete with backstories, and for a good reason. I do not believe anyone can credibly complain that this film lacked plot, because there was so much to discover about the story, the craftiness, the secrets, and the characters. However, sometimes, this could be overly done with too much exposition. The first half of the film, before the irrelevant intermission (I will get to that later), was just discursive and long-winded. Granted, it did build up a lot of the brutality and catharsis in the final act, but while it was being executed in the first act, boy was it boring. When I read the script, I was already bored stiff, but I thought the genius Quentin Tarantino would surely find a way to grip attention when need be. Then again, I never seem to share the same sentiments with others. The way the dialogue was being written (which is really well-written I must re-emphasize) is very much Hitchcockian in nature and tone. It lets you in on clues that could prove important later on in the story, but this time, the exchanges between characters on the American Civil War really does not do anything to add much value to the situation at hand. There is some prejudice against Samuel L. Jackson’s character Major Marquis Warren, but it was more of a touch-and-go kind of effect, not really manifested in the final story arc.
This makes the entire dialogue, while witty and snarky, feel unnecessary and oftentimes contrived and forced, just so that Tarantino could show off his knowledge and firmly-held beliefs by getting the characters to wax lyrical about these said beliefs. I much preferred the soliloquies that exposes the characters through their retelling of their backstories rather than their beliefs. In particular, Major Warren had a great moment when he recounted to Bruce Dern’s character General Sanford Smithers how he humiliated and killed the latter’s son, in a very powerful stare-down competition and heart-pounding delivery by Jackson, almost on par with the Ezekiel scene he perfectly performed in Pulp Fiction. But the entire stagecoach repartee between Major Warren, John Ruth (Kurt Russell) and Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins, incredible actor) was quite painful to sit through. The other character that Tarantino decided to parlay about beliefs and argumentative theories is Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth) when he preached about justice and frontier justice, and how hangmen should be dispassionate, which ultimately doesn’t really amount to anything that drives the story further. These are just great dialogue, in all the wrong places.
Then there is the problem of the genre. The thing about this film is that it tries so hard to be something that it is not. In addition to that, it tries so hard to be many things while ignoring the fact that it is limited by scale and money. It wants to be a western, a whodunit mystery, a drama, and a comedy all at once, but all it got to achieve was the western part. The rest of the genres were just half-baked representations, not even homages. Clearly, the script was too preoccupied with being something pulled out from John Ford’s Stagecoach to even have the capacity to take on the whodunit part. Except for the poison in the coffee plot, which did scream Agatha Christie, there was very little mystery within the story itself, which is truly a pity because imagine what greater heights this film could have reached if it dedicated more craft towards a compelling mystery genre that makes us all guess and second-guess. As for the comedy, nothing really hit me the way Django Unchained did with its brilliant mask-wearing scene. Just a few giggles here and there, nothing that would get one chortling with laughter.
We will get to the good parts soon, not to worry. While I adored the way Tarantino tells his stories by introducing chapter segments in his previous film entries, I felt that this was really not that great an idea here. Why? Simply because the story is set in just two locations, okay maybe three: The stagecoach, Minnie’s Haberdashery, and some outdoor scene that is either next to the stagecoach or Minnie’s Haberdashery. In fact, the story is set in such a small space that Chapters 1 and 2 are basically a continuation of each other without much transpiring between the two chapters. And they are set in the same location with the same characters in each one, so that rather drew me out of the film quite a bit. The other thing that stuck out awkwardly like a sore thumb? The narration by none other than Quentin Tarantino himself.
Twice he narrated, and in both occasions they were surprising to me. Because for a good 2 hours the story played along with characters unfolding the plot to audiences through verbal exchanges and great acting, and suddenly, Tarantino for some reason could not relate or connect certain dots or actions to the viewer and felt that narrating would make it obvious. Imagine watching the film, a shootout has just taken place, people are dead on the floor, and their bodies must be gotten rid of. Bear in mind this is after 2 hours of intensity. Suddenly Tarantino’s voice comes up dictating how the bodies were dealt with in his usual slightly nasal twang, and it just ruins the moment. This happened also during Inglourious Basterds when he explained the flammability of nitrate films. It’s anti-climaxing and frustrating because I was so involved in the story and would rather let the actions speak for themselves. What is filmmaking if one needs to explicitly tell us what is happening onscreen all the time?
Next, I need to address the score of the film, which I often do especially if the composer is renowned for in film scores. For the very first time, Quentin Tarantino made a great choice to include original music compositions from the great Ennio Morricone in his film. When that news broke out, I was ecstatic, because Ennio Morricone is behind some of the most iconic music in cinema, and his works are so vast I think I will need a separate article to list down my favourites. So can you fathom my disappointment when I went to this screening? From the overture to the end credits, not a single piece moved me like he did for many amazing films that benefitted from his musical ingenuity. In fact, most of the film occurred with background silence, save for the whirring of the blizzard outside the set, or the clinking of tableware and thumping of boots over hollow floorboards. These were great to provoke the atmosphere of uncertainty and fear and claustrophobia and deception and doubt and all those other great moods. Then again, why hire a maestro when his work is not grand and absorbing to the ears? It was merely sounds that did admittedly give a vibe that something is going to happen, as heard in the reused music originally composed for John Carpenter’s The Thing titled Bestiality during the poison scene. That was alright.
The big problem was the theme that played when the camera pans over whitewashed mountains and landscape, and how screeching the music was. I expected beautiful hymns like La Califfa, or For Love One Can Die, or I don’t know, the hundreds of other sentimental tunes that Ennio Morricone have written in his career. Sorry about this guys, I’m very into music, because I have studied music and play it myself, and what we have all come to love about Ennio Morricone is really not displayed triumphantly here. Even for a western, where is the whistles, the trumpets, the bells, that we loved in all of Sergio Leone’s films? So I am truly surprised when the score for The Hateful Eight has been nominated for the Golden Globes for best original score. On one hand, I really hope Ennio Morricone doesn’t win. But if he does, it would also be a well-deserved win for all the beautiful music he has written for us all these years.
Okay, now that the difficult part of criticizing is over, let me tell you that this is truly an amazing movie. Do not be deceived by the copious length of my disdain for this film, I just like ranting a lot about things that displease me. Other than the fact that The Hateful Eight upends any precedent expectations of a Quentin Tarantino movie, the style and the soul of Tarantino still lives and breathes at every shot of this brilliant picture. First off, I must reiterate what the trailers have been advertising all these while, and that this that 70mm is glorious (or is it glourious?). The picturesque view is simply breathtaking and you really feel the cold, the frostbites and the bitterness with panoramic scope that Tarantino has a real knack for. The film is very old-school, and it brings one back to the 60s, when confrontational westerns were not only about gunfights and Mexican standoffs but also about taking the time to showcase great acting and dialogue. It is very cool in every sense of the word. From the lighting of a match by striking a boot, to the blood-spewing finale, I LOVED the look of this picture and every single flawed character.
The first half of the film was very slow as I said previously, but after the 12 minute-long intermission, things started picking up. And there I was thinking, “Yes! That’s the Quentin Tarantino movie I’ve come here to watch finally unfolding.” It was gory, vengeful, energetic, everything that emotionally paid off whilst still expertly managing the drama and character development. If you can manage your expectations, you will not be disappointed. Just don’t expect Kill Bill or Inglourious Basterds or Django Unchained. Also, it gave me great pleasure to identify the films that so inspired Tarantino as referenced in this movie. All those Blaxploitation films and those by Jean Luc Godard really shined through at numerous occasions. But the one that definitely played a huge role in terms of the context which the film is set is definitely Stagecoach (1939).
All the actors were undeniably tremendous. If there is one thing an actor can be sure of, a Tarantino movie will never fail to make you look like a great actor. Jennifer Jason Leigh, in particular, with broken teeth and often drenched in blood and vomit, was stunning in her role as the focus and the source of the entire conflict, Daisy Domergue with feral slyness. The best thing about the acting is the way the actors depicted discord, animosity and unlikely alliances within that little space of Minnie’s Haberdashery, even if they were all once upon a time strangers. The final interaction between Major Warren and Chris Mannix is a fine example of this great interaction between Samuel L. Jackson and Walton Goggins respectively. Each held their own opposite the other with aplomb, and became fighting partners when at one point in time they were at loggerheads due to political stance and racist reasons. But when Major Warren finally agrees to show Chris Mannix the Lincoln Letter, that was the bond of brotherhood between the two, and the ending is perfect such that their final fate is left standing as food for thought. Now, Tim Roth, I actually wonder if his role was written for Christoph Waltz who starred in the last two Tarantino films. Because Roth’s character really behaves like Waltz, with courtly mannerisms and an overeager smile, also unable to quell a passion for preaching and being heard. But Tim Roth’s acting was great. I knew I could always count on him ever since I watched The Legend of 1900, also with amazing score by Ennio Morricone, and that was the plug for you guys to check that great film out.
The first draft of the script was not too dissimilar from the final product, though there were a few great features that I thought were neglected. For example, the script mentioned that Minnie’s coffee was strong, hot and good several times but was only mentioned once in the film. I thought it was a fine touch to really drive in the solitary and drab feeling of the haberdashery with the death of Minnie and Sweet Dave. Also, John Ruth made a big ruckus over a half-plucked chicken which was vital evidence of murder, but the final film skipped over that one although we did see Gemma plucking the chicken in the flashback sequence. Bob in the script was French for no reason, and in the film he became Mexican, also for no reason, so that also drew me out of the film a bit. But I liked the expansion of the Lincoln Letter as a plot device to bond both Major Warren and Chris Mannix together and for not killing everybody decidedly at the end.
We have eventually come to the end of my incredibly long review (I’m shocked at myself). So to wrap up my thoughts on The Hateful Eight, this is definitely not Quentin Tarantino’s strongest film. In fact I daresay that I rank it as one of his worst films, which is not really a bad thing since his accolades show that there never is a truly bad Tarantino film. But this disappoints on so many levels, for me at least. It had a great story, overshadowed by rhetorical dialogue, which explains the overly long film that makes you want to time your toilet breaks well. Story never really exercised its true potential which could have been something different in the likes of Clue or even The Grand Budapest Hotel, because it should have gone into whodunit territory all the way. In the hands of other directors, the film might have been a whole lot more intense with more rapid shots, cuts, edits, zooms, eerie happenings that puzzle the characters, and a dead body that everybody fumbles over. Wouldn’t that have been a lot more fun? It just seems that everyone is bereft of fear until the final act for the sake of being a cool cowboy in everything they do. So much so that they all start to sound like one another. Oh, and Michael Madson’s acting was nondescript in an ensemble of great actors.
I really trampled over this didn’t I? For what it’s worth, I still love Quentin Tarantino and there should be more directors like him.
Rating: 3/5
It seems like you, as I do, love Ennio Morricone’s moving and beautiful music. If you haven’t heard his music for a french film called “EN MAI FAIS CE QU’IL TE PLAIT, which was released in November this year, I would strongly recommend you to do so. Here is James Southall’s review of the score.
https://www.movie-wave.net/en-mai-fais-ce-quil-te-plait/
This movie was the worst movie I have been to! The plot was awful or lack of plot. I am so surprised that there were some name actors in this movie because it was so bad. My husband and I almost walked out of it but I wanted to give it the benefit of doubt but was sorry when the end came. Sorry, sorry acting, plot, slow moving and I am sure it didn’t cost much to make it because it was set in the blizzard outside, or in the cabin. It was very boring to watch a full movie filmed in a stagecoach, and a cabin on the mountain. The presence of all the fake blood I guess was supposed to be impressive(not). I was offended how many times N*ger was used in the movie. This whole movie was very distasteful. I still cannot believe Samuel Jackson was in this movie.