I
still haven’t seen Once Upon a Time in
Hollywood, and the longer I wait, the less interested I am in the film. I’m
sure this will sound baffling to many, and others will say it’s because I’m a
woman and/or too old. Of course, I’m younger than Tarantino, and, woman or not,
I loved True Romance, which he wrote,
and Pulp Fiction, and the Kill Bill films when they came out.
What
I’ve noticed lately is that as I age and evolve, a number of films I loved or
at least liked, I have a hard time with now. Woody Allen was my true north for
so much of my earlier years, yet I find it harder to watch his films now, unable to shake off the personal issues surrounding him.
Earlier this year, I re-watched Ghost
World, which I’d loved, when in came out in the early 2000s, yet now I was
creeped out by the really inappropriate sexual relationship between the Steve
Buscemi and Thora Birch characters. Their age difference hadn’t been a factor to me when I was much younger, yet I
was uneasy with it this time around.
That
brings up Tarantino. After being baffled by his complete re-making of World War
II, which I found a bit dangerous, as many young viewers may not bother to fact
check his “history” films, I skipped Django
Unchained. My last Tarantino viewing was The Hateful Eight. The only reason I ended up seeing it was because
I was in San Diego at the time, and was able to see it in the special 70MM Road
Show format, which I thought might be both my first and last time seeing such a
film. Of course, most of the film takes place in a small cabin, which makes the
use of 70MM totally illogical, but it apparently amused Tarantino. The film did
not amuse me.
A
few of us were talking about the film in class some time later, and the professor seemed to be surprised
that I was bothered by the violence, as he thought I should have known what I
was getting into watching a Tarantino film. The problem was it wasn’t the
violence on screen that bothered me the most; rather it was the all white male, and
mostly mid-to-late thirties and forties, audience’s response to the violence.
There was a large man a few seats from me that laughed so hard during Jennifer
Jason Leigh’s death scene that I almost got up and left. It was thoroughly
disturbing, and I think I still haven’t fully gotten over it.
Yes,
her character did bad things, but at least in my opinion, no one should find
humor in another person’s death.
I
know, people will say the director shouldn’t be blamed for how others respond
to their work and people with mental health issues should be treated, etc.,
etc. I’m not sure these men would be classified as having mental health issues,
but it does seem that Tarantino is able to bring out a misogyny that certain
men get way way too excited about for my liking.
That
film came out before Uma Thurman’s telling of her harassment by Weinstein, and
the near death experience by Tarantino forcing her to do a dangerous driving
sequence in Kill Bill. I find it
unlikely that Tarantino truly didn’t know about what Weinstein was up to; he
more likely just didn’t care, or think the women mattered. The female
characters in his films rarely matter, and from what I’ve heard about Once Upon a Time…, that sadly hasn’t changed.
I
may eventually see the film on DVD or streaming, but at least then I can close
my eyes to the violence, and not be surrounded by men laughing and hooting at
the bloodshed.