I know I'm supposed to be preparing myself for the red carpet this evening... well, the red carpet in front of my television, but I can't stop thinking about seeing
The Hateful Eight yesterday.
I am a pretty un-apologetic Tarantino fan. I have been critical of his preciousness with himself and dialogue diarrhea about hip things like mix tapes, but on the whole I have been impressed with how he has grown as a filmmaker.
The Hateful Eight seems to me to be another complicated step in Tarantino's evolution.
There is very little I can say about the story of
Hateful without ruining critical plot points.The film is a violent, western mystery thriller-
Stagecoach meets
Ten Little Indians meets
The Wild Bunch. The plot twists are superb and Tarantino's love of the non-linear story comes to full bloom in the second act. In
Inglorious Basterds (2009) Tarantino explored the use of the length of a scene itself to create tension and he has continued that trend here- perhaps too much at times.
Robert Richardson's Oscar-nominated cinematography is both expansive and uncomfortably closed-in by Yohei Taneda's wonderful one-room set. The actors are universally superb- with Samuel L. Jackson, Oscar-nommed Jennifer Jason Leigh, and Tarantino new-comer Walton Goggins standing out in a room crowded with acting talent. Ennio Morricone's tense yet familiar score that plays as the blizzard howls should win him the statuette.
But I don't want to talk about any of that. I want to talk about what the fuck Tarantino is doing.
Hateful Eight is a hateful movie. It assaults its audience with nausea-inducing gore, racially-vicious verbal warfare, and punishing violence towards women. It is too simplistic to say that Tarantino is being a provocateur or that he is just showing the West as it was- a place where racism and violence against women were commonplace- where death was bloody and drawn out.
The tenuous period after the Civil War where the truce between the North and South seemed always on the verge of exploding into violence over the issue of Blacks is the perfect setting for Tarantino's obsession with race. The gratuitous use of the "f" word of past films is replaced by a racheting-up of his characters' proud use of the "n" word. And it is used in its most hateful form- spat from the mouths that utter it. The disgust of hearing the expletive soon becomes numbed through overuse- uncomfortable laughter trying to muffle the sound of the word.
But like
Django Unchained (2012), the hero of this movie is a black man. Samuel L. Jackson has starred in six Tarantino flicks- and this is the first one where he receives top billing. Major Marquis Warren is one tough, wily son-of-a-bitch, but he still has to deal with the indignities of black life after a barely concluded Civil War.
The Major is a flawed man- a bounty hunter with a history of shooting first and asking questions never- but he is the hero no matter how many times he is degraded. In his previous outting with Tarantino, Jackson's character was a racial capitulator- defending his white master to the death. Now he takes great pleasure in raining retribution on a cruel Confederate general (Bruce Dern in fine form) and punching a woman in the face who spits on a letter from Abraham Lincoln. So in that sense, despite the negative racial slanders, Tarantino is raising a Black Power salute, making his lead star a powerful, smart Black man.
But it's so complicated. Like the Blaxpoitation films that inspired Tarantino as a youth, the depiction of blackness is steeped in raging violence, as if blowing away all the racists was the answer. It was a depiction that shook white audiences in the '70's- and if the
reaction to Beyonce's Superbowl performance is any indication- there are those who are still frightened of an image of Black Power.
I think Tarantino wants us to be uncomfortable with the issue of race- and partly achieves that sensation through the visceral use of vile language and gruesome violence- much of it heaped upon a woman. Maybe he is haunted by the image of himself as a quirky white boy watching Blaxpoitation movies in a crowded black theater, absorbing the culture of those around him through film, but still aware that he was "The Man." Whatever his motivation, three of his eight films have dealt directly with racism through the use of discomforting degradation and violence. And another two use the equation of Minority + Violence = Retribution? Revenge? Justice? (
Kill Bill 1 & 2 (2003 & 2004)- Women and
Inglorious Basterds- Jews). It makes me fantasize what the story of Stonewall would look like in Tarantino's hands. Drag queens marching down the street with machetes, castrating all those who stand in the way of marriage equality. The other F-word being spouted every few minutes.
Without ruining the ending- I think it can be argued that the film believes the races can come together in a sort of respectful partnership and serve justice- but the road of violence leads to a dark ending for everyone. A strangely self-destructive message from an artist whose whole career has been advanced by legendarily violent pictures.
The dear friend I saw the movie with will never watch a Tarantino film again. And I'm not sure that I will add
The Hateful Eight to my film collection- but I can say that despite all the excesses of this film, I can't stop thinking about it- and that to me means there's more going on here than curse words and blood.
