The Hateful Eight

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Quentin Tarantino/Starring: Samuel L. Jackson, Kurt Russell, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern, Tim Roth, Walton Goggins, Demian Bichir and Zoe Bell

Happy New Year folks! And what a way to cross the threshold into another 365 with Quentin Tarantino's new film The Hateful Eight. The release of any Tarantino film is always a much-anticipated event. Tarantino's films guarantee a good time and his new western is anything but a snoozer.
It's axiomatic that westerns, particularly Sergio Leone's variety, occupy a prominent place in Tarantino's movie pantheon. Even his crime films contain allusions to Spaghetti westerns. Though his new film doesn't feel entirely like a Spaghetti, it nevertheless nods in that direction at times. The most conspicuous connection to the Italian westerns is in the soundtrack; an exceptional score by the man who helped make that western subgenre famous; Ennio Morricone.

Things we can expect from every Tarantino film are: colorful characters, colorful dialogue, violence; often times very graphic and his penchant for showing a sequence of events from different perspectives. And none of these indispensable Tarantino elements are crafted without his keen intelligence, which help mold these disparate features into something compellingly cohesive.

Subtitles tell us The Hateful Eight is Tarantino's eighth film, which is followed by a seque to a shot fit for the 70mm format proudly advertised in trailers: the white, wintry mountains of Wyoming (Colorado in actuality). In long shot, moving against the inert, silent surroundings is a stagecoach struggling through the deep snow.

Up close, we see the coach stop for a black man blocking the road who stands near several bodies, piled high. When the coachman stops the coach, the black man asks if he might ride along. The coachman tells him only the man who has hired the coach can decide. When the coachman turns to shout toward the interior of the coach, a heavily mustachioed man sticks his head out and inquires about the identity of the prospective rider. He makes the black man, who introduces himself as Major Marquis Warren (Samuel L. Jackson), walk slowly to the side of the coach but not before asking him to lay his his pistols down on a rock. Warren explains to the man, who introduces himself as John Ruth (Kurt Russell), that he has bodies he intends to collect a bounty on and is in need of a ride. Ruth tells Warren, in a forceful manner, that he intends to take the woman sitting in the carriage; Daisy Domergue (an excellent Jennifer Jason Leigh) to Red Rock to hang and isn't partial to having company along. The sight of Daisy's face; ragged and black-eyed, isn't mitigated by her gruff manner, which she extends to Warren in the form of racist comments. After further cajoling, Warren convinces Ruth to allow he and his bounty bodies a ride to Red Rock.

Along the way, Ruth and Warren get better acquainted; having met casually once before in the past. In their conversation, which is tinged with mutual suspicion and distrust, Warren tells Daisy about Ruth's reputation for bringing captives to hang, thus earning him the nickname John "The Hangman" Ruth. Warren's past is also revealed when we learn about his role as officer for the Union in the Civil War. Their conversation moves along and is only disturbed periodically by Daisy's comments, which elicit Ruth's violent responses; one being a hard elbow to the nose. Though she is slated to hang, we don't learn of Daisy's crime until the latter part of the film though we know murder is involved; which seems likely, given her rough appearance and rougher tongue.

In their ride through the Wyoming snow, they see a man waving to them from a distance who is also in need of a ride. Ruth is immediately suspicious; believing the man to be a secret associate of Warren's but changes his mind when they make his acquaintance. The man, with whom Ruth is more than familiar, is Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins), who explains that he is en route to Red Rock where he is to become the sheriff. Ruth scoffs at the claim; explaining to Daisy and Warren that Mannix belonged to a Confederate guerrilla party whose airs of legitimacy were challenged by those who say the unit were no more than marauders. While Ruth eyes Mannix suspiciously, the would-be sheriff rankles Warren with his southern, racist comments.

After reluctantly taking on Mannix, the blizzard worsens until the group is forced to stop at a place called Minnie's Haberdashery; a lonely establishment serving as a kind of outpost.

Upon entering we see the name of the establishment is kind of a joke, as no haberdashery is anywhere to be seen; only what looks to be a crude version of a country inn. Seated in the establishment are a few men who are scattered about the place. The ferocious, cold winds makes it necessary for the occupants to nail small, wooden planks on the door to keep the door from bursting open. The fact that everyone entering the haberdashery must first bust open the door then nail planks to keep the door from opening becomes a running gag throughout the film.

As Warren, Ruth, Mannix and Daisy become situated, they (and we) meet the mysterious gathering who have also become thwarted by the storm:

• Bob (Demian Bichir); Minnie's Mexican employee, who informs the arrivals his boss has gone away on business; a statement Ruth finds more than a little suspect.
• Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth); an English executioner, who is to serve at Daisy's hanging.
• General Sandy Smithers (Bruce Dern); a former officer for the Confederacy, who looks upon Warren and his Union blue with disgust.
• Joe Gage (Michael Madsen); a cow puncher who is as dubious everyone else.

Held captive by the weather, animosities emerge, such as that between Warren and Smithers, which eventually escalates into violence. Smithers finds an ally in Mannix, whose esteem of the officer reaches obsequious proportions.

Unsure of the other lodgers, Ruth investigates the identities of those already in the Haberdashery. And not long after Ruth begins to suspect that one or more of the lodgers are in cahoots with Daisy, which only intensifies his distrust of all present.The film then becomes a mixed-genre of western and mystery as the riddle of who might be Daisy's collaborators becomes the narrative focus. A killer locked in a sealed room with other people is a well-worn plot device peculiar to mystery novels, but it works well here. Tarantino is a master at drawing tension and drama from such situations as he did in Reservoir Dogs, where a near-empty warehouse becomes a stage in which criminals try to identify the cop in their gang.

After Warren's showdown with Smithers, we learn the coffee has been poisoned, which claims the lives of two characters. Who the culprit might be becomes the mystery within the mystery and as we draw closer to learning the identities of those who might be Daisy's accomplices, the film becomes more violent and bloody. Later, another character emerges at which point all mysteries unravel and a savage climax is ushered into the narrative.

Very few directors can keep a 168 minute film enthralling. Tarantino seems to have few difficulties accomplishing this feat. How he manages this is yet another mystery, though the answer seems deceptively simple. Considering most of the film is dialogue and exposition, one might think the story would become monotonous but in Tarantino's hands I found my attention fully engaged.

The beautiful exterior shots of a pristine, white snowscape stand as a terrific contrast to the Haberdashery interior; particularly later, when blood seems to splash over all the characters and nearly every surface. Tarantino's long-time cinematographer; Robert Richardson, does his profession proud with the 70mm palette he is given to work with.

Ennio Morricone's scores are always memorable; his music here is no exception. At 87, his compositions show no sign of becoming stale.

Jennifer Jason Leigh doesn't have much dialogue but she manages to be a forceful presence, nevertheless. The sight of her bloodied, maniacal face is one of the more memorable images from the film. Samuel L. Jackson, the real scene stealer of Pulp Fiction (not Travolta), commands our attention early and holds it.

Tarantino says he will retire after his tenth film. After seeing The Hateful Eight, I felt his retirement target to be premature. I hope he reconsiders. His new film demonstrates his edginess is still intact and robust.
Tarantino would have been a great playwright. What is an essentially a chamber piece feels like a really exciting play.
His film is one of the last significant movie releases of 2015. It is a helluva way to end the year and an exceptional film to have as a first blog-post for 2016.

Selma

**Spoiler Alert**

Director: Ava DuVernay/Starring: David Oyelowo, Carmen Ejogo, Tom Wilkinson, Giovanni Ribisi, Wendell Pierce, Dylan Baker, Tim Roth, Cuba Gooding Jr., Oprah Winfrey and Martin Sheen

It seems no matter how many times we see the historic Selma to Montgomery march depicted in movies or documentaries, it never fails to stir and inspire wonder. That so many were willing to risk their lives to right a wrong and so many were willing to kill to preserve the unjust status quo leaves one with a sense of awe. We've seen many demonstrations and marches since then in this country, but so few have had as much at stake as the Selma to Montgomery march Martin Luther King Jr. led in 1965.

What distinguishes this film from others on this subject? For one, none of them had the ferociously talented actor David Oyelowo in the role of King himself and none had a female African-American in the director's seat. But DuVernay's film is distinctive in other ways, for it dramatizes Dr. King's opposition quite poignantly and shows us a powerful leader who wasn't infallible.

DuVernay shows us widespread, systemic racism; political bodies that permitted the flagrant disenfranchisement of blacks, particularly in the south.

Contrasting scenes open the film; in one, we see Dr. King preparing to receive his Nobel Peace Prize award; fussing with his fancy tie while his wife Coretta (the lovely and talented Carmen Ejogo) listens to her husband talk about how his fancy suit might be regarded with suspicion back home. In the other scene, we see young black girls in their Sunday best, descending church stairs. As they chatter innocently about hair styles, a shocking bomb blast not only obliterates the church but takes the lives of the little girls. We see their dead bodies amid the rubble and ruin that was once their house of worship.

The beginning is very effective; we see the world honor an American black Reverend while in another part of the world, an oppressive, white culture metes out violent aggression against black children. The act of brutality is a powerful reminder of the virulent anti-black sentiment that gripped the south in the 20th century and how determined local and state governments were to deny blacks even basic rights, such as the right to vote.

It was voting issue that was foremost on Dr. King's mind as he and his fellow activists hatched a plan to protest the denial of black voting rights in the south. In a scene where Dr. King and President Lyndon Johnson (an excellent Tom Wilkinson) discuss the issue, Dr. King is reminded that the right to vote is law though he is quick to remind Johnson in turn how that right is flouted by southern white-dominated governments.

As the idea of marching from Selma, Alabama to the capitol in Montgomery develops, we see what King and his followers faced as Johnson dithered, FBI Director and Dr. King opponent J. Edgar Hoover (Dylan Baker) tapped civil rights activists phones and monitored their activities (with Johnson's consent), and Alabama Governor George Wallace (Tim Roth) brainstormed with his aides on how to thwart both voting rights and black activism in his state.

We also see some dissension among black leaders about how best to demonstrate; knowing every protest invites violence and murder.

I found DuVernay's King to be refreshingly human and anti-hagiographic. Though we see Dr. King's impressive attributes; eloquence, diplomacy, restraint in the face of violence, fierce determination, and compassion; we also learn something about his infidelities. In a scene where Dr. King and Coretta listen to an FBI-crafted tape recording intended to intimidate and humiliate the Reverend, we hear what is supposed to be one of his numerous affairs in progress. Though King denies the affair, Coretta knows better; she realizes she can only salve her wounded pride by eliciting a vow that he isn't emotionally involved with the other women.

The scenes between Dr. King and Johnson are also illuminating. Though Johnson did support civil rights legislation, he also resisted the Reverend's frequent pleas more vigorous action. I really liked Wilkinson and Oyelowo in the White House scenes; both actors are compelling as the exchanges between Johnson and Dr. King become increasingly heated and tense.

The early marches without Dr. King prove to be violent. The first march is halted at the Edmund Pettus Bridge; demonstrators are chased, beaten and shot and in a subsequent, ill-advised march where the press was absent, protestors were again beaten and at least one murdered. Dr. King organizes a another march from Selma to Montgomery but halts the procession on the Edmund Pettus Bridge. In a subsequent scene, he explains the halt as a safety measure, citing the authority's ability to cut off the group from support if the bridge is crossed.

Meanwhile, the televised news broadcasts of the first march causes widespread outrage, galvanizing more people, black and white, to join Dr. King's third march, to which both Wallace and Johnson are vehemently opposed.

The climax of the film is the last march and it is interesting to see how many whites and clergyman joined the procession. Some whites, including a Boston priest, lost their lives in the marches. One woman was murdered by Klansmen when driving a car full of protestors afterward.

Throughout the film, we see subtitles unfold across the screen, which give us documented details of Dr. King and his group's activities, culled from FBI surveillance. The information establishes historical fact but also alerts us to the ubiquitous, Big Brother-like monitoring Dr. King and his associates were subject to.

I found much of the film moving. DuVernay wields a camera skillfully; she doesn't get in the way of the story or get cute with elaborate camera angles that might call attention to themselves and which might distract us from the story.
The dialogue was fine but sometimes it seemed a little too self-aware, as if the characters were declaiming on a stage rather than conversing in the real world.

I think Selma is one of the better films I've seen on the 1960s' Civil Rights struggles. Without sacrificing dramatic credibility, it reaches for historical accuracy and shows us a President who hardly wore a halo and a towering historical figure who was hardly blemish-less.

The rash of police brutality in the U.S. in the past year, where the victims were all black, lend DuVernay's film sociopolitical relevance. So much was accomplished in the march on Montgomery, but recent news events tell us we haven't entirely shed the racist skin that was more firmly entrenched back in 1965.

I don't know if Selma is a great film. You might ask me about it in six months. But for now, I think it has power and superb acting and it gives one of the most explosive events in American history the respect it deserves without rendering it an abstract, stately, marble mausoleum of holy icons and one dimensional antagonists.

No matter what one might think of the film, David Oyelowo's brilliance seems axiomatic. I hope Hollywood has the good sense to give this guy more, challenging material.