As announced yesterday, it is my sworn duty to report to you an opinion, mine, of the epic movie we watched yesterday as we rode indoors. We call it Cardio Cinema, and despite the gray-area surrounding the Hollywood standard disclaimer threatening severe civil penalties from unauthorized use - piracy is not a victimless crime - we accept the risk and ride. I am sure that neither Brad Pitt nor Leo DiCaprio will be forced into a peanut butter and jelly sandwich diet as a result. Frivolities aside, here is my review.
While not imperative that one actually lived through the turbulent times depicted by Mr Tanantino in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, it certainly helps. Setting the scene is an important part of establishing the ‘mood’ of any film, and Q does it as good as, and more often than not, better than anyone on today’s short list of ‘name’ directors. Adding to his impressive talent with simply this phase of the overall process is, as few credits do these days, remind us that he was both writer AND
director.
His ear for dialogue is matched only by his eye for detail. Watching, spinning, enjoying the tracking and dolly shots of the two mega stars cruising down the Sunset Strip in a yellow Caddy high on nothing but the thrill in the challenge to play actors playing actors, is something - matched with the soundtrack of Paul Revere and the Raiders admitting in 'Hungry' that “I can almost taste it’ - is ten miles past sublime. Sure there was a flimsy plot, the affected star and his faithful sidekick get involved with the nastiness of Vietnam, Hollywood and the Manson family, but the beauty of this film was in the location, much as LA in a different time and place was to Heat. As yes, Al Pacino kills his role as a Hollywood producer the same way that he did as a homicide cop opposite DeNiro.
If you are not a fan of Tarantino, and there remain a few, the film’s masterful drive into and out of another time and place is a fanciful feast of cinematic pleasures. And let’s face the facts, 1969 Los Angeles was in major league flux, race riots, Nam protesting, regular skirmishing pitting hippies against rednecks, surfers vs nerds, jocks vs brainiacs, gays vs straights and Angels versus Dodgers. On some mornings the local AM DJs (I was a KFWB channel 98) fan would actually recap the prior days box-scores. Toss in the violent dementia that Charles Manson served to his family and the absolute terror they sprinkled on the City, and you have a perfect recipe for disaster, mayhem, chaos and the outline for a monumental story.
I was never disappointed. In one scene as our hero is flying back from doing a series of spaghetti westerns in Italy, the narrator announces that the Boeing 747 is about to land in El Segundo. WHOA, where? Vintage Tarantino dialogue. I asked the class this morning if anyone who had seen the movie, most hands waved in the affirmative, if they ‘got’ the subtlety. No one ventured a guess. My hometown, is separated from El Segundo by none other than the Los Angeles International Airport, LA fucking X. Westchester and Playa del Rey are to the North and ‘Gundo’ to the immediate South. I almost verbalized what would have been classic Q line by saying that El Segundo is home to, and famous for, Georgie fucking Ballgame. Hall of Famer George Brett. Who, incidentally, was the star in the Gundo baseball team that knocked my team out of the CIF playoffs in 1969. What delicious irony that would have been for the handful of people recalling the episodic drama of that competition!
The first two hours of ‘Hollywood’ provide a sweet shuffle along the walk of the stars before the inevitable - remember Manson is lose on the streets when not scripting a sick plot at the Spahn Ranch - and Trantino plays the build-up of suspense much like the Beatles built up A Day in the Life, to a climatic bloody crescendo. And I do not mean that in the standard British sense.
I was once again awed at QT’s artistry and his production of the project. From sparring with Bruce Lee to cameos by Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern and Damian Lewis, heck Mama Cass even showed up at Heff’s, I found Once Upon a time in Hollywood to be a terrific slice of nostalgia and of course, masterful filmmaking by a maestro of magic and mayhem.
I will, however, caution those unfamiliar with ‘typical’ Tarantino, that they consider going to the smack bar for the final ten minutes.
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