Butch Cassidy & the Sundance Kid was the
top-grossing film of 1969. It featured two top Hollywood heartthrobs (Paul
Newman and Robert Redford). It was a western with anti-hero protagonists and 20th
century sensibilities. It was also released six weeks after one of the most
famous murders in history, that of actress Sharon Tate and four others at the
Hollywood home of director Roman Polanski by members of the Charles Manson
family. The murders terrorized the moviemaking elites, and as Joan Didion
famously observed, for many they signaled the end of the free-wheeling
peace-and-love Sixties.
The murders drive the story of Quentin Tarantino’s Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, a Butch & Sundance style “western” with 21st century sensibilities
in which the anti-heroes are two top Hollywood heartthrobs (Leonardo DiCaprio
and Brad Pitt) and the bad guys are the Charles Manson “gang” (as they are
identified in the credits). It is also – as the title suggests – a Tarantino
fairy tale (a la Inglourious Basterds), and a tip of the hat to spaghetti
westerns (a la Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in the West).
We know what is coming – the 3:10 to Yuma in the form of the
August 8, 1969 murders. But Tarantino’s focus isn’t on either the perpetrators
or the victims, but rather on the bromance between the two stars, who play Rick
Dalton (DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Pitt), the former a struggling veteran of TV
westerns now reduced to guest appearances on Mannix and The F.B.I.;
the latter his long-time stunt double and drinking buddy. Dalton lives next
door to Polanski and Tate high in the Hollywood Hills; Booth lives in a beat-up
trailer in the San Fernando Valley with his own loyal friend, his dog Brandy.
No matter the class difference (although on one level the film is a comedy of Hollywood
manners) – these two are best friends living inside their social castes like
Rick and Sam in Casablanca. DiCaprio and Pitt are magnificent in their
roles, and DiCaprio especially gives a clinic in acting (literally, in one
scene).
But even more than the dynamic duo, the film is about 1960s
Hollywood at the end of an era. As one who lived in Southern California at the
time the film is set, I can attest that Tarantino’s attention to period detail
is astounding.
Uniting all the characters is the ubiquitous sound of 93 KHJ, the AM radio top-forty
(or “Boss 30”) station that permeates the soundscape as does Wolfman Jack in
another homage to a bygone era, American Graffiti. Tarantino is a master of the period soundtrack,
which alone is worth the price of admission. The film doesn’t wallow in
nostalgia but Tarantino lets Robert Richardson’s slightly over-exposed sun-drenched
cinematography do all the talking, especially as it highlights Margot Robbie,
cast as the ill-fated ingenue whose sunny sweetness represents Paradise Lost.
The film ambles its
way to its grisly conclusion – which might be too gory for mass audiences.
Tarantino clearly enjoys the journey, but tighter editing of this 160-minute
behemoth would move the story along at a more 21st century pace.
Nevertheless, Once Upon a Time… in
Hollywood is a delight for the
eyes and ears, and is Tarantino’s most fully realized film since 2003’s Kill Bill, Vol. 1.
Once Upon a Time… in
Hollywood is rated R for violence,
language, and sexual content. 3.5 stars out of 4.0.
