Having loved Django Unchained, I was expecting to enjoy The Hateful Eight a great deal. Its name apparently inspired by The Magnificent Seven, I expected a tale of derring-do against the odds (albeit with a Tarantino-esque twist). That’ll teach me to expect too much. Wow, this film was haaaaard work! The first hour was just talking, and fairly humdrum chat, at that. Mr Tarantino seemed to have forgotten the old ‘Show, don’t tell’ rule. There was some situational humour here and there, but it was quite obvious and repetitive. But I persevered, telling myself it was a long build-up to an amazing and clever showdown. My faith was misplaced, sadly. The storyline (more of a scenario concerning bounty hunters trying to get captives to a nearby town, but getting trapped in an inn by a blizzard) pretty much collapsed and everyone ended up shot and all but dead. Not even in an ironic way… just a hateful way. And the final hanging scene was voyeuristic (not intelligently so, I’m afraid) and pretty much misogynist. Hateful indeed. Hateful.
Don’t get your hopes up – The Hateful Eight