THE HATEFUL EIGHT Is a Badass and Wild Western From Tarantino

THE HATEFUL EIGHT Review:

- There are few singular storytellers left in film these days, and so there is a unique pleasure in watching a new movie from Quentin Tarantino. Knowing that we're watching a story written, shot, and delivered with all the quirks and artistic flourishes that its creator desires means that a Tarantino movie is a special sort of gift to unwrap. Most movies we dare to impress us. Tarantino movies, we can sit back and breathe in - knowing we're in good hands, and knowing that even if we don't love every aspect of the movie, well, you can be damn sure that it'll be a movie that we won't soon forget. Come to think of it, that's a good way to describe THE HATEFUL EIGHT - a movie - nay, a movie-going experience, that I won't soon forget. Badass, twisted, brutal, darkly hilarious, ostentatious, indulgent, verbose, stubbornly old-school yet undeniably of-the-moment ... THE HATEFUL EIGHT is nothing if not Tarantino at maximum Tarantino-ness. Love it or hate it, it's the exact opposite of most of the endlessly-tested, market-driven synthetic cinema that litters movie screens. For me? Movies like this one are why I love movies.

In many ways, THE HATEFUL EIGHT feels like a full-circle movie for Tarantino. It takes the Western setting of his previous film, Django Unchained - plus many of that movie's themes (race, revenge, frontier justice) - and combines them with the sort of claustrophobic, character-driven, limited-setting feel of his first film, Reservoir Dogs. Tarantino movies are always dialogue-heavy, but this one is all-dialogue. And because it mostly takes place in a single confined location - a ramshackle haberdashery in the Wyoming wilderness - the film, in many respects, has the feel of a stage play. I can see why that might be a turn-off to some - but when the dialogue is this rich, the characters this well-drawn and acted, and the storytelling this entertaining - you can't help but hang on every word and fully lose yourself in this rough-and-tumble black comedy.

The story, at least initially, centers around Kurt Russell's impressively-mustachioed bounty hunter John Ruth, who is transporting a wanted criminal - Jennifer Jason Leigh's Daisy Domergue - to Red Rock, Wyoming to see her hanged and collect the bounty on her head. Ruth - known as "The Hangman," has a policy of always bringing in his quarry alive - letting them die by the law rather than by his own bullet. Unfortunately for him, Domergue is a particularly ornery, feisty, rabid sort of woman - and so he's got to keep her handcuffed to himself for both of their protection. As the two journey through a fierce blizzard on their way to Red Rock, they pick up two additional passengers looking to escape from the deadly cold. The first is Samuel L. Jackson's Union soldier-turned-bounty hunter Major Marquis Warren - known far and wide as having been a friend of President Lincoln who carries in his pocket, always, a prized letter from the assassinated leader. The second is Walton Goggins' Chris Mannix, a former Confederate soldier - son of a Confederate General - who claims to be on his way to Red Rock to be installed as their new Sheriff, following the murder of the previous one. Already, there is tension between the former Union and Confederate soldiers (John Ruth was also on the Union side and sympathetic to the cause of emancipation). But things escalate even further when the group takes refuge from the storm at Minnie's Haberdashery. There, they find the usual proprietors mysteriously missing, and a group of suspect individuals occupying the place who each seems like they may have something to hide. Added to the mix are Bruce Dern as an aged Confederate General, Michael Madsen as an abrasive cowboy, Tim Roth as a talkative British hangman, and Demian Bechir as the immediately-suspect man who claims to be running the haberdashery in its owners' absence.

As you can see, the movie's cast is an all-star lineup of all-time badasses. And as tends to happen in a Tarantino film, every single one of 'em brings their absolute A-game. Let's talk for a second about Kurt Russell. These days, Russell takes roles somewhat selectively, and it's increasingly rare to see him play the sort of larger-than-life badass that the man was born to play. Tarantino himself helped remind everyone the ownage of Russell several years back when he cast him as Mike the Stuntman in Death Proof. But 2015 has been a full-blown Russennaissance (trademark: me), with the man-who-played-Snake-Plissken appearing in not one but two all-time great badass Western roles - first in the future cult classic cannibal Western Bone Tomahawk, and now here in THE HATEFUL EIGHT. Russell is so great here that you both forget he was ever gone and leave desperate for more of him in kickass roles. Suffice it to say, he rules as John Ruth - a gruff and at-times-vicious bounty hunter who nonetheless adheres to a particular code of justice.

Now let's talk about Walton Goggins. Some of you may not be familiar with Goggins, but you should be. For six seasons, he tore the house down as the chief antagonist of TV series Justified, the inimitable Boyd Crowder. Goggins' performance on Justified was so good and so iconic that you couldn't help but root for him to become a huge star following the show's end - or at the least, root for him to get the kind of star-making roles that he got here in THE HATEFUL EIGHT. Because here, finally, Goggins gets a movie role that allows him to go full Goggins - to be every bit the scene-stealing, ass-kicking, endlessly-quotable showstopper he was on Justified. Goggins' Mannix practically steals the movie away from his bigger-name co-stars, and it's because the actor has a knack for charismatic theatricality that is unmatched. As he did with Crowder, Goggins makes Mannix into a character who you're not sure whether to love or hate - but one thing's for sure: you can't wait to see what he does next.

I will also give a specific call-out to Samuel L. Jackson. The dude appears in so many movie roles, oftentimes in not-so-great movies, that it's easy to forget how downright awesome the guy can be when he's at the top of his game. He's most often at the top of his game when paired with Tarantino - and he's *damn sure* at the top of his game in THE HATEFUL EIGHT. Jackson gets the kind of monologues here that only Jackson can deliver, the kind of wrath-of-god stuff where you can practically hear Tarantino giggling with delight as Jackson preaches the good word of QT. In many ways, Jackson's Marquis Warren is a similar character to Jamie Foxx's Django - a man who has seen violence and has now become violence, but a man whose violence is colored by a righteous sense of vindication for a world that did him wrong. All that aside, Samuel L. is quite simply entertaining-as-hell in this movie.

One more specific call-out, and that's to Jennifer Jason Leigh. A journeywoman actress who has done it all, this may well be her finest (and bloodiest) moment. Leigh is a witchy delight as Daisy Domergue - a vile woman who you start to foster a grudging respect for thanks to her ability to take a lickin' and keep on tickin'. Leigh gets all-kinds-of-roughed-up by the men in this movie, and the violence against her can be hard to watch at times. But it's played for dark comedic effect by Tarantino, because in a room full of black-hearted men, Domergue's heart is the blackest of them all. A running joke of the film is how Domergue - who starts the movie with a grotesque black eye, only becomes increasingly grotesque as the movie progresses, to the point where she becomes a bruised, blood-covered, toothless wretch. But what spunk she has in the face of it all. This is a zero-vanity role for Leigh and she absolutely crushes it.

Tim Roth, Demian Bechir, Madsen, Bruce Dern - all excellent. Channing Tatum pops up in a surprise role that's a lot of fun. The cast is just top-notch top to bottom.

Tarantino, for his part, uses a lot of his usual tricks in terms of giving us a slow-burn build-up followed by moments of shocking violence and sudden twists of the narrative knife. The film looks amazing - in 70 MM, there's a richness and vividness that is utterly immersive. In many ways, the haberdashery is its own character - and QT does a brilliant job of familiarizing us with its geography and layout as a way of framing the action of each scene. There are all kinds of secrets in the haberdashery - guns hidden under tables, people hiding in unseen places - and Tarantino takes great relish in littering the place with an assortment of Chekhov's Guns, leaving us in anticipation as to when various other shoes will drop. The entire film carries with it a theme of truth vs. lies - the lies we tell others and the lies we tell ourselves - and the haberdashery with all its secrets is like a living embodiment of that. QT also does a great job of simply making us feel like we're trapped with these characters in the middle of a deadly blizzard. Whenever the barely-held-together door of the haberdashery swings open, releasing a torrent of snow and wind and cold, I had a visceral reaction to it. "Shut the damn door" I thought, right alongside the characters. The look and feel of the film is only enriched by the original score from the legendary Ennio Morricon, whose mood-setting Western melodies instantly create a feeling of danger and high-adventure. And of course, Tarantino's use of anachronistic yet perfectly-chosen songs inserted into the film is as spot-on as ever.

I used the word indulgent earlier, and I will say that the movie does at times get a little long-winded. In many of QT's best films, the extended diatribes and dialogue tangents are offset by thrilling action sequences and briskly-moving plotlines. Here, as in Death Proof, the action comes in short, self-contained bursts, and so there are very long and uninterrupted stretches of dialogue that can, at times, feel like QT milking character exchanges for all they're worth at the expense of the movie's pacing. In particular, a late-movie chapter that serves as an extended flashback feels like an overlong departure from the main story that could have been cut shorter.

Still, the indulgences are part of the fun of a Tarantino flick. Not just the slow-boiling dialogue, but the chapter divisions and names, the random snippets of coyly-delivered QT-provided narration, the digressions into politics and culture and random banter - all of this is what makes a QT film what it is (there's even an intermission in the 70 MM version!). But all of it adds up to accentuate that feeling that you're in the presence of a storyteller who's taking the utmost delight in the story that he's telling. This isn't a story told by a committee of hack writers or because of a corporate mandate. No, this is a story told by a guy who by-god loves telling stories.

THE HATEFUL EIGHT has its flaws - it's not the lightning-in-a-bottle of a Pulp Fiction of Kill Bill - but man, it's a one-of-a-kind sort of film that I had an absolute blast with. It's packed to the brim with the preeminent badasses of our time, and it's a hard-boiled meditation on truth, violence, justice, race, and revenge delivered with rock n' roll style that puts the "wild" back in Wild West. Bring on film #9.

My Grade: A-

AMERICAN ULTRA Does Entertainingly Hyperactive Acid-Trip Action/Comedy

AMERICAN ULTRA Review:

- We've seen the basic set-up to American Ultra done before - a thoroughly-average guy finds out that he was secretly meant to be a kick-ass superspy - chaos and comedy ensue. But ULTRA has enough that's unique about it - including a legitimately involving central romance - that it stands out from the pack. Director Nima Nourizadeh (Project X) gives the movie a frenetic pace that reminded me of similarly in-your-face action films like Kick-Ass. And writer Max Landis gives the film lots of personality, crafting a zippy script full of smart, quippy dialogue and plenty of twists and turns. AMERICAN ULTRA is the sort of new-school, genre-bending, over-the-top action/comedy hybrid that many mainstream critics are prone to dismiss. But if you're down with its insanity and stoned-out humor, there's a lot to like about this one.

Jesse Eisenberg plays Mike - a stoner who lives in a small town and seems stuck in a rut. He works at a dingy convenience store. He draws a comic book but can't bring himself to do anything with it or show his work to anyone. And he can't bring himself to leave. The one good thing he has going is his girlfriend, Phoebe (Kristen Stewart). Phoebe is hyper-tolerant of Mike's quirks and neuroses, and seems to compliment him in all the best ways. While she seems to be a similar brand of stoner-slacker as compared to Mike, Phoebe also seems to have a little more ambition, a little more vision, a little more fire inside her. She is, basically, what Mike needs. But tellingly, in an early scene, Mike wonders if he is in fact holding her back.

What Mike doesn't realize is that a lot of his existential issues have literal reasons for being. He can't leave his small town because the government doesn't want to. He is holding Phoebe back, because ... well, I won't spoil it. But what does soon become clear is that Mike's entire existence is one big lie. He isn't just some guy. He's a tossed-away government experiment - a would-be super-spy who is programmed to be an unstoppable combatant. When the program he was a part of was shut down, Mike's programming was "turned off," and his memories erased. Because of the mercy of his government handler, Victoria (Connie Britton), he was spared from the scrap heap and allowed to live a relatively quiet life, unaware of his true nature. But now, a new hotshot CIA official (played with great smarminess by Topher Grace) is out to exterminate remnants of the old program, and he has his sights set on Mike. Mike - and by extension Phoebe - now find themselves caught in a high-level power struggle. Only Mike's re-activated super-spy skills stand between them and a hail of government-issue bullets.

As you can probably start to sense, the cast here is fantastic. I'd forgotten going in how great Eisenberg and Stewart were together in the underrated Adventureland. Quickly though, I was reminded that the two have a great chemistry. The banter between them is funny and fast, but there's also a legit emotional core to their relationship that's actually affecting. Both actors tend to take their knocks from fans and the press, but both are perfectly suited for these parts. They are backed up by a strong turn from the always-great Britton, who manages to bring some gravitas to the movie's largely light-on-its feet tone.

That said, a lot of the real fun comes from the movie's rogues gallery of villains. Topher Grace is just wonderfully hate-able here, the kind of villain whose ass you can't wait to see get handed to him. Also great is, unsurprisingly, Walton Goggins. Fans of Justified saw Goggins embody one of the all-time great TV villains in Boyd Crowder. Here, he plays an even more unhinged character - the Joker-esque assassin known as Laugher. Since I've always thought Goggins would make a great Joker, it's a treat to see him play a true wild card. But what's even better is that the movie reveals a somewhat tragic backstory for Laugher that makes him more than just a kewl antagonist. Additionally, lots of welcome faces show up as part of the supporting cast. Tony Hale as Britton's conflicted colleague. John Leguizamo as Mike's wildcard dealer. Bill Pullman (!) as a government heavy. It's a very loaded cast - and seeing all these great actors bounce off of one another is a lot of fun.

The characters are given some really snappy dialogue thanks to Landis' script. There's no lack of energy in the film, and the fast-moving plot and always-crackling dialogue is a big part of that. Nourizadeh's direction, like I said, is of the Matthew Vaughan school of frenetic action and comic-book-style pacing. And that suits the over-the-top violence and physics-defying action scenes just fine.

If I have any complaint about AMERICAN ULTRA, it's only that it feels, at times, less like a complete film and more like a really solid TV pilot. The story takes us to a point where it feels like things are still just ramping up for our main characters. And in a world where a sequel may not be likely, there is a slight feeling of incompleteness. The real novelty of this story might have been in future chapters, as the relationship between Mike and Phoebe becomes more fully-explored. As is, what makes the movie most stand-out are the moments that spotlight the unique relationship between its two unlikely heroes. The finding-out-you're-secretly-a-spy stuff has been done. But putting all of that in the context of a stoner love story has not. I really like the way that the film provides sci-fi logic to explain the common feelings of going-nowhere, no-future angst that accompany the average quarterlife crisis. But it also sort of feels like Chapter 1 of that exploration - the origin story, sans the first real mission. The TV show Chuck covered some similar ground. But where Chuck had the trappings of a well-meaning, heart-filled sitcom, AMERICAN ULTRA is its acid-dropping, burn-out, grindhouse cousin. If that sounds like your cup of team (it definitely is mine), then give some love to this film - a much-needed original action film in a cinematic landscape overcrowded with rehashed concepts and cash-ins.

My Grade: B+

The End Comes For JUSTIFIED

The End of JUSTIFIED.

"In the deep, dark hills ... of eastern Kentucky ..."

- There are those TV shows that dominate the pop-cultural discussion, and there are those that live just outside the mainstream, somewhere on the fringes. Each week, my social media feeds are dominated with discussion about the Game of Thrones of the world - but for several years now, the TV drama that's been at or near the top of my personal must-see, must-discuss, can't-wait-for-more list has been JUSTIFIED. Each season of the F/X neo-Western has upped the stakes, pitting our trigger-happy hero Raylan Givens against all manner of would-be crime-bosses, kingpins, and outlaws who mean to stir up trouble in Harlan County. The show began to hit its stride midway through its first season, and has never looked back. The show became increasingly serialized, and increasingly fleshed out its universe so as to populate it with the greatest, most eclectic, most memorable cast of characters of any series I've seen. JUSTIFIED is plain and simply the most badass show on TV - and with tonight's final episode, I can't help but feel that there's going to be a void in the TV landscape that's hard to fill. Even in the middle of a TV renaissance that has flooded our screens with great content, few series can match JUSTIFIED pound for pound. The writing, acting, direction is second to none. And the pulpy, Elmore Leonard-inspired tone is unlike anything else currently airing, and unlike anything we're likely to see again anytime soon.

There was a time where the highest of high art in TV seemed to be artlessness. Endless procedural series and would-be gritty dramas in the 00's subscribed to the idea that dialogue had to be short and terse, that characters had to be ill-formed, that direction had to have a you-are-there immediacy in order to resonate with the modern audience. We went from Bond to Bourne, from The X-Files to CSI, from David Mamet to Damon Lindeloff. But a decade later, shows like Breaking Bad and JUSTIFIED helped to usher in a new pulp renaissance - an era when pop-culture again felt free to get moody, stylized, and evocative rather than immediate. JUSTIFIED - based on a series of novels by Elmore Leonard - quickly distinguished itself as existing in a pulp-fiction world of modern-day gunslingers and outlaws. Sure, there are elements of the show that count as recognizable to us. In particular, whenever the action shifts to the more modern world of Lexington, Justified takes on the trappings of a more straightforward brand of crime drama. But when we enter Harlan, we enter a twisted world where, for all intents and purposes, the Old West yet lives.

The two diametrically-opposed forces in Harlan - Raylan and his nemesis/frenemy Boyd Crowder - are, like many great foes, two sides of the same coin. Both see themselves as of another era. Raylan the pistol-packing cowboy, Boyd the rules-don't-apply outlaw. It's fitting that the show's final season finally re-focused the plot on their rivalry, as the two have been circling each other for the series' entire run. There was a great line said about Raylan early on in the show's run: "you're the angriest man I've ever met." To me, that succinct description colored my perspective on the entirety of JUSTIFIED. At first, I couldn't understand the sentiment. As played by Timothy Olyphant, Raylan seemed downright jovial at times. His default mode was to be wearing a sly grin, with a twinkle in his eye. And yet ... beneath that smile there was, indeed, rage. And it revealed itself in small ways - as when Raylan's grin soured into a scowl - and in larger, more disturbing ways - as when, so often, Raylan would seem to take a strange joy in facing down death and in inflicting it. The kind of comfort that a man content with his lot in life likely wouldn't enjoy. Time and again, Raylan has seemed to welcome life-or-death stand-offs. Time and again, he's been drawn back into lonely and dogged pursuits of vengeance masked as justice - when he could have taken refuge with his family. In this final season, we are left wondering if Raylan really can find peace if he were to finally take down Boyd, or whether all that can really satiate him is the dance of death. Hard to believe that a character like Raylan can ever really settle down. And that's the film-noir of it all - the sense of being trapped by existential forces, unable to escape a doomed, repetitious fate. "You'll never leave Harlan County alive," says the song - a mournful ballad that's played in more than one of the show's season finales. And that may very well be true for Raylan. Certainly, it's proven true for any number of the show's less lucky characters. It may well be a prophetic statement for Boyd as well. Boyd has narrowly escaped death numerous times - but he's never escaped Harlan. This season has seen Boyd's pride and outlaw spirit keep him from making an easy exit and cashing out when he had the chance. Now, he's headed for a collision with Raylan that likely won't end well. But Boyd trapped in a corner has proven resourceful. Still ... he's never been this much in a corner - with even his steadfast best-gal Ava having turned against him.

A lot can be said about the performances of Timothy Olyphant and Walton Goggins on JUSTIFIED. Both have consistently killed it for years now. The lack of Emmy recognition is shameful. Olyphant was a guy I knew from a few movies, pre-Justified (don't worry, I later saw Deadwood). But he was the perfect Raylan - absolutely embodying the character and making him into a full-fledged TV icon. Walton Goggins has, over the years, become one of my favorite actors. You can't take your eyes off of him as Boyd. He's snake-like, unpredictable, cold-blooded, and yet oddly likable. When Boyd rallies the people of Harlan to whatever his pet cause of the day is, you get why they side with him. The man may be a criminal and a liar, but by god, he's Harlan through-and-through, and the Crowder roots run deep.

And roots have long been a pet theme of this show. Raylan has long been tormented by the Givens name. His father, Arlo, was a scheming, rotten bottom-feeder. And when Raylan wasn't actively dealing with his still-up-to-no-good dad, he was dealing with the long shadow that his family's bad reputation cast. But good or bad, family roots are like currency in Harlan. It's why its people are apt to trust a Crowder over an outsider. And indeed, a recurring theme of Justified has been the battles among Harlan's clan-like factions for power, as well as those clans' unlikely alliances when faced with a common, alien threat. This season gives us a classic example of the outsider entering Harlan and unwittingly biting off more than he can chew. Sam Elliott's Avery Markham is a big fish in a small pond - he should be able carry out his land-grabbing schemes relatively unopposed. But the rules work a little differently in Harlan County. If you don't have the homefield advantage, well ... like the song says. As is happening to all of America's hidden hideaways and enclaves, the forces of modernity are indeed closing in on Harlan. But that encroachment only seems to make the natives restless and feisty. They ain't going down without a fight.

This season has been a who's-who of badass character actors coming in as recurring villains. Sam Elliott - so often the noble elder statesman, is here the serpent-like, devilish Big Bad. And as Avery Markham, he's absolutely killin' it. Garrett Dillahunt and Jeff Fahey have been fantastic. And that's just the guest cast. So much can be said for the regulars. Aside from Goggins and Olyphant, special mention has to be given to Joelle Carter as Ava Crowder, the tough-as-nails, shotgun-toting antihero of the show. Carter's work this season has been phenomenal, and JUSTIFIED has become as much Ava's story as it has Raylan and Boyd's. Then there's the show's cult-favorite Wynn Duffy, played with smarmy, shady perfection by Jere Burns. Wynn is the show's human cockroach - a pervy, seedy, RV-dwelling slimeball who seems to be the show's single character immune to death. Burns has won fans by making Wynn the ultimate survivor in a ruthless world - a man who crawls away from scrapes by the skin of his teeth, but who never fails to get right back to the business of being a scuzz-bucket. Nick Searcy as Raylan's U.S. Marshall mentor Art has been one of the show's secret weapons, and delivered some of its greatest moments. Same goes for the uber-badass Tim, played by Jacob Pitts. He, Raylan, and Erica Tazel's Rachel have long formed a U.S. Marshall trifecta-of-awesome, cleaning up Harlan one lowlife at a time. Kaitlyn Dever is a real scene-stealer as young crime-boss-in-training Loretta McCready. Introduced in the standout season in which the Emmy-winning Margo Martindale played the Big Bad, Loretta has blossomed into a fan-favorite, gaining more gumption as she's aged, and becoming a surprisingly important player in the show's final season. 

For years now, JUSTIFIED has taken us to a heightened, pulp-noir, neo-Western world where modern-day cowboys and outlaws wage a neverending battle for the soul of Harlan County, Kentucky. The show has served as an ongoing tribute to the great Elmore Leonard - never shying away from bringing his pop-snap dialogue, outlandish characters, and grim morality plays to television in a way that always seemed to honor the spirit of the writer and his source material. In a world of written-by-committee scripts, JUSTIFIED had a singular voice, a singular style, that few shows ever have. That voice was Leonard's. And we saw it embodied every week in the darkly-humorous witticisms, soliloquies, and whip-sharp banter of Raylan, Boyd, and the rest of the show's larger-than-life denizens. The series took us to ramshackle hillbilly enclaves, Noble's Holler, Boyd's seedy bar hideaway, and any number of other distinctly unsavory locations. But most of all, it took us to Harlan. It took us down a road fraught with death and gunpowder, with backstabbing and feuding and square-dancing and booze and drugs and the ghosts of days gone by. These characters may never leave Harlan alive. But we'll have left Harlan the better for having visited.