"Once Upon a Time... In Hollywood" Review: A Time Machine of a Movie

Written by: Christian Jatar

In the interest of full-disclosure, I’ll admit I saw this movie three times already. I love it so, so much. I could have gone a fourth time if not for my dwindling bank account, and my human need to, you know, eat food. It’s just so effective in its world-building, in its characterization that it begs to be seen multiple times, as big and loud as possible. During its runtime of two hours and some forty-odd minutes, it manages to build up a vision of 1969, Hollywood, in such a nuanced manner you could swear that you just stepped into a time machine and are now living among the stars. It’s that good.

The movie follows the day-to-day of Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt) as they traverse the rapidly evolving landscape that was Hollywood, 1969. Rick is an actor who’s going through the decline of a once truly prospective career. He was the former star of an extremely successful TV show called “Bounty Law,” where he played the titular bounty hunter, Jake Cahill. One of the shiniest gems in this treasure chest of a movie is the opening. We get to watch a few minutes of “Bounty Law” in action, and it’s as faithful a recreation of that era of TV as you can probably imagine coming from cinema’s (and TV’s) number one biggest fan, Quentin Tarantino. After Jake Cahill reaches the end of his character arc and is swiftly cancelled, which in reality is stemmed from Rick’s inherent need for bigger more career-defining roles, he hits a wall and slowly realizes that his best years might be behind him. Leonardo is stellar as the aging, sensible actor. He is vulnerable, introspective, and in one particular scene, very dangerous.

Cliff is Rick’s stunt double and, more importantly, his best friend. They bonded after filming several episodes of “Bounty Law” and express a very genuine fondness for each other. Cliff, as he states in the film, is Rick's gofer. He fixes stuff. He drives Rick around. Plain and simple, he’s the errand boy. You see, Cliff is unemployed. The stunt-double gig has seen better days. So Rick keeps him around, pays him a decent wage, and whenever possible, shares a drink or two. Their chemistry is palpable, especially in a very sweet scene where they both watch an episode of “FBI” in which Dalton is starring as the big baddie. They comment on the show as they enjoy it and make snappy remarks that feel entirely too real. It really is a bromance for the ages.

Back to Cliff, though. He’s a complex and incredibly problematic character. He may or may not have done something truly horrific some years back that, worryingly, only seems to haunt his work opportunities; Conscious unscathed. But the way Brad plays him just makes him so endearing and effortlessly cool, it ends up being hard not to root for the guy. This might honestly be one of the most memorable performances of Pitt’s career. He’s not playing Cliff Booth. He is Cliff Booth.

Sharon Tate (Margot Robbie), who’s essentially the beating heart of the film, may not have as much screen-time as her cohorts, but what she lacks in minutes she makes up in downright impact. She’s Rick’s neighbor on Cielo Drive and the vessel with which Tarantino injects some added suspense to the entire proceedings. If you know of her, then you know her tragic story. You know that she was taken from this world far too young and under truly horrifying circumstances. So horrifying and quite seriously single-handedly changed America forever. This knowingness is always in the back of your head as the movie confidently makes its way towards its conclusion. Much like Tarantino explained in a Today Show interview some months ago: the film always has this feeling of there being an iceberg on the horizon and the sense of dread knowing that the path leads straight to it is palpable all the way through to its fully unexpected finale. Margot plays Sharon with grace. She’s an angel that blesses every single scene in the movie. She dances; she listens to music; she buys books; she snores; she giddily observes herself on the silver screen: Her dreams coming to fruition. The most important, tender quality of “Once Upon a Time… In Hollywood” is seeing Sharon, in the simplest of terms, just live her life. It’s a loving, timeless portrayal of an actress who deserves to be remembered for much more than just her untimely demise. Quentin unquestionably does everything in his power to make it right. And boy, is it a sight to behold.

The film, unsurprisingly but fittingly so, boasts one of the most impressive soundtracks of the year. The sheer diversity and obscure song selection on display is mesmerizing. Tarantino even goes as far as to include archival radio jingles that blow most of today’s Billboard Top 100 out of the water. The use of “Out of Time” by The Rolling Stones is a perfect example of this meticulous use of music. The song, with its all too real lyrics, set to the backdrop of different neon signs lighting up on Hollywood Boulevard as the climax veers its ugly head, is the pure definition of an iconic scene. It generates a very tangible sense of nostalgia. Of a time long-past but never forgotten. It’s in the use of music and outstanding production design that Tarantino and company fully sell their honest-to-god appreciation for such a colorful, yet turbulent time in U.S. history. And none of it would really work without cinematographer Robert Richardson firing on all cylinders. Each and every single shot is beautifully brought to life. It really sells the vision of the ‘60s in a way few movies can.

There is one scene in particular that most benefits from the unique qualities of the huge silver screen. In it, Cliff is heading back home after dropping Rick back at his place. He leaves his boss's car behind and finally enjoys the freedom of driving is own beat-up Volkswagen. In the hands of literally any other director, this could have been a simple transitional moment. One or two shots of him driving and then cut to Booth opening the door to his trailer home. But, no. Tarantino wants to revel in the moment. He wants the audience to feel like they are driving back home with renowned stuntman Cliff Booth. We get multiple highly stylized shots of him driving to the tune of three or four different rock songs blasting on the radio. We see cars fly by as Cliff displays his prowess behind the wheel through the busy streets of LA. The sound of the 1964 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia overwhelming the senses. It is, by al means, a simple scene. But the sound design, the shot selection and the sheer amount of colors popping on every inch of the frame, elevates the entire sequence to a much more special plane of existence: “You just took a ride with Cliff Booth, man! Right on!”

When all is said and done, the film doesn’t really have a plot, but that’s the point. It’s not interested in entangling you into an elaborate tale of murder and horror. It wants you to lose yourself for a moment and give in to the fantasy of a Hollywood of old, a former America. It wants you to consider for a moment what it would have been like to live in 1969 in the city of stars. Where tensions were slowly getting higher and higher and people were also pretty high. It wants you to step into its time-machine, and just take it all in. Tarantino may still have one last movie before retiring, but it’s hard to imagine a more fitting conclusion to such a consistently remarkable career. You have probably heard this one before, but this is a love letter to Hollywood, through and through. And in being so, it’s also a love letter to every single person who treasures the movie-going experience. So, if you have you to watch it, do yourself a favor and run to your nearest theater. Now, where did I leave that acid-laced cigarette?

5/5