I generally like Tarantino movies, some hits, some misses. And there's no question that he makes the same story over several times. But he has been a unique storyteller over that past few decades. I tend to lean more to Jackie Brown as being brilliant, Reservoir Dogs being sparsely masterful, Pulp Fiction being imaginatively constructed but generally overrated, and the rest somewhere between that and disappointing.
Ultimately, I guess, I don't know why we needed this film. Sycophantic as it may be, there is nothing particularly added to the legend, beside personal stories from actors of on-set hijinx. These range from the genuinely informative, Christof Waltz, Sam Jackson, Tim Roth... to the bland, Zoe Bell, Lucy Liu... to the hopelessly self-indulgent, Michael Madsen, Jamie Foxx.
It shamelessly slurps QT for his relaxed sets, creatively designed stories, and dedication to respecting and writing strong roles for women (though Uma is conspicuously absent from interview footage... relying on stock footage of the two in happier times). These are all admirable qualities but it all comes off as more of a DVD extra than an actual film (which, for all I know, it may have been).
It also tries to address accusations of Tarantino being derivative, as always, by leaning into the charge harder. It acknowledges, if fleetingly, the influence of Blaxploitation, Hong Kong martial arts (which frankly, we all know anyway), but doesn't delve much further. Myself, I was expecting a deeper dive into the influence of Sam Peckinpah, an undeniable cinematic forebear to Tarantino. But only a quick shot of his cinema house marquee showing two Peckinpah films starring Steve McQueen, "The Getaway' and 'Junior Bonner' even hint at any connection.
But the single most annoying part was the presentation of Harvey Weinstein. Obviously, he's an easy and well-deserved target of scorn. And certainly it had to be addressed. But it's done in a way that, let's say "over-eagerly" tries to cleanse QT of any connection to the man. Tarantino is portrayed as an angel of a man, and Weinstein is the devil, end of story. Okay, fair enough. But if the issue of their professional relationship is going to be broached, go deep with it. Being shown so superficially, it becomes an unnecessary distraction, glossing over QT's rather belated, and generally unsatisfying, admission of having known about the allegations and doing nothing, It's just an acceptable amount of tarnish for the filmmakers to allow into the love fest.
Ultimately, I guess, I don't know why we needed this film. Sycophantic as it may be, there is nothing particularly added to the legend, beside personal stories from actors of on-set hijinx. These range from the genuinely informative, Christof Waltz, Sam Jackson, Tim Roth... to the bland, Zoe Bell, Lucy Liu... to the hopelessly self-indulgent, Michael Madsen, Jamie Foxx.
It shamelessly slurps QT for his relaxed sets, creatively designed stories, and dedication to respecting and writing strong roles for women (though Uma is conspicuously absent from interview footage... relying on stock footage of the two in happier times). These are all admirable qualities but it all comes off as more of a DVD extra than an actual film (which, for all I know, it may have been).
It also tries to address accusations of Tarantino being derivative, as always, by leaning into the charge harder. It acknowledges, if fleetingly, the influence of Blaxploitation, Hong Kong martial arts (which frankly, we all know anyway), but doesn't delve much further. Myself, I was expecting a deeper dive into the influence of Sam Peckinpah, an undeniable cinematic forebear to Tarantino. But only a quick shot of his cinema house marquee showing two Peckinpah films starring Steve McQueen, "The Getaway' and 'Junior Bonner' even hint at any connection.
But the single most annoying part was the presentation of Harvey Weinstein. Obviously, he's an easy and well-deserved target of scorn. And certainly it had to be addressed. But it's done in a way that, let's say "over-eagerly" tries to cleanse QT of any connection to the man. Tarantino is portrayed as an angel of a man, and Weinstein is the devil, end of story. Okay, fair enough. But if the issue of their professional relationship is going to be broached, go deep with it. Being shown so superficially, it becomes an unnecessary distraction, glossing over QT's rather belated, and generally unsatisfying, admission of having known about the allegations and doing nothing, It's just an acceptable amount of tarnish for the filmmakers to allow into the love fest.