The era of the Director has long since passed, but a handful of heavyweights still manage to make each new movie an event. Quentin Tarantino is one of those directors, whose name alone could open a moive...but it certainly doesn't hurt that he always has an amazing cast. For his 9th film, he's turned his attention to his well-documented love affair with his hometown.
This is one of those movies that's hard to pin down in one line what it's about. Sure, it's about the Manson Family's brutal slaying of Sharon Tate (sort of). Yes, it's about the grind-them-up-spit-them-out factory of the movie industry that uses up talent until it becomes useless to the big wigs trying to make money. It's about the stars, both rising and falling. It's about those on the periphery and those under the enchantment of celluloid fiction. It's about a city that is the center of its own created world and the magic that hangs over it.
It tackles these many themes through a string of loosely connected scenes centering around Leo Dicaprio's character (the falling star) and Brad Pitt's character (the once-was stuntman). It sort of meanders through a six month period in a not-exactly linear style that is remmincent of Tarantino's best work. And as always, the dialouge is extremely tight and hilarious.
This is another classic film from Quentin, and I'd rank it as my third favorite, just above Inglorious Bastards. Definitely a masterpiece of Hollywood turning the fiction inward and writing a Hollywood version of its own history.
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