The Hateful Eight

The Hateful Eight contains everything we expect from the auteur -- ultra violence and memorable characters and shocks and profanity and long stretches of dialogue -- and yet, while as indulgently Tarantinoey as it can be, this is a rough watch, a film meant to cause discomfort, to repel, even to disgust.

The Quentin Tarantino's film, unfurled as "chapters", feels like an actual short story for a cold winter day.

Tarantino's cinema is not for the faint-hearted. However, the maker of Reservoir Dogs and Kill Bill, in his by now famous signature style, once again gives you substance to lose sleep over.

It doesn't try to entertain. Not for a long while, at least. Therefore, much of the mainstream audience is out. The more vocal ones will dismiss it as a proper film. Further, it doesn't emphasise on the viscerality that Tarantino is known for - there is violence, of course, but it isn't the point of the film. But that's possibly because the so-called 'gratuitous' violence just met with some 'gratuitous' chopping at the censor board. That accounts for the sleeping members in the audience. For a lot of people, it would be quite unfathomable on why the film even got made.

After the thrilling convolutions - narrative and moral - of Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown, Reservoir Dogs, Kill Bill and even Inglorious Basterds, Tarantino has stopped challenging himself. Django Unchained is where he became his own yes man, and by the looks of The Hateful Eight, he hasn't yet remedied the issue. Though my mind could change with another viewing. That's the power of Tarantino.

The mystery is mysteriously threadbare, the chapter breaks are momentum breakers and the ethnic slurs leave a bad taste. The violence is of course gratuitous and gimmicky. The visuals garner attention but what's the point? It's hard to figure!