The Hateful Eight is a thrilling crime carnage that crawls and feeds on utter suspense.
Quentin has a knack for making the awesome. Not only does he walk in with a dope gore crime drama in his baggage, but he directs the tale magnificently too.
Plot, strewn across three hours of engaging drama, entails six chapters akin to a book that have been well played by a stellar cast. With the front runner Quentin’s ace Samuel L. Jackson under the skin of Major Marquis Warren, and Kurt Russell as John Ruth, a.k.a The Hangman, to do us the honours in the form of bounty hunters, with the latter carrying a brutal plot alongside in cuffs, everyone is headed towards a chaotic world waiting at Minnie’s haberdashery. What is quite beautiful is the way the story unfolds. You almost feel like nothing’s wrong and yet everything is!
The theme is loosely based on blood law, where shooting a perpetrator is simply a form of justice nail and jackhammering it down is a perfect way to end it. But you need to understand if it’s a bandit landscape, killing or shooting without a conscience, without batting an eye, is an acceptable way of living.
Jennifer Jason Leigh is simply outstanding as Daisy Domergue. Tatum has basically a cameo of a role. Walton Goggins is exceptional. Demian Bichir’s short stint as Bob can’t be overlooked either. Both Madsen and Roth have done their bits nicely.
Ennio Morricone’s theme is addictive as he weaves a thrilling score to complement the tale. Sometimes fed in by awesome songs like Apple Blossom, Now you’re All Alone and There Won’t Be Many Coming Home, cut off superbly by Quentin frames, the end product turns out to be sheer delight.
Tarantino’s head is a cruel world. Bullets and gore are his favorite props. But it’s never confined to that. He always has a unique story to tell, which makes for a great movie watching experience. You can almost sway to the Tarantino rhythm as he prolongs frames for emphasis. But sometimes you do wish some editing to take over and snip off some unwanted bits quickly and be over with. What the movie misses on is gut-wrenching tension that used to be the crux of Quentin’s earlier works.
Another downside of The Hateful Eight is at times you feel everything enacted. There is a fluency missing in the flick that fails to connect every act. With a screenplay that appears being ‘read’ and crispy lines that fail to mingle with others, for a touch of the innate, it seems more of a theatrical put-on act. It is only by the time you reach Chapter Four that you begin enjoying the flick truly, for it is then when sham paves way for clarity and things become more dramatic.
However, leave out the above minute details and The Hateful Eight is still a gorgeous criminal entertainer that speaks only of brilliance. Go watch! Tarantinites shouldn’t miss it for the world!