Stylish naturalism like Licorice Pizza isn't where I draw my druthers, but it's a valid form of movie. It can still be nice. I sincerely liked OUATIH, though I probably won't remember it too potently.
Leo does his thing, but it's actually Brad Pitt who endeared me most. He's relaxed yet strong-willed, from his air to his hair, his outfit to his handling of conflict. He doesn't hold with bullshit, nor does he make a scene about it. My only question is whether he killed his wife; as far as I could tell, the matter went wholly unexplored.
A lot went wholly unexplored. Again, it's just a sequence of episodes, more notable for the vibe than anything. Comprehension is secondary. Did they have to bring in Bruce Lee? Did Cliff have to have a suggestive backstory? Did Rick have to connect curiously deeply with his child costar? It's all just faces of a giant polyhedron that is Hollywood, 1969; none of it is essential, all of it is of the essence.
There's a certain horror to watching Robbie so amiable as Sharon Tate, with her childlike positivity, knowing what comes for her -- and a certain gioia when it doesn't. Tarantino commits to the happy ending for some reason. I suppose he tends to.
This kind of movie puts Tarantino close to Scorsese, in their big Leo indulgence, their relishing of a stylized period, their propellant use of music, and their smart dialogue, without the usual gimmicks of Tarantino.
There's not much to dislike of this movie, unless you demand that it piece together into something more intentional.
It's funny how this film encapsulates multiple generations of Hollywood fame. Of course there's DiCaprio and Pitt, two of the biggest leading men of the last 30 years. There's Austin Butler and Sydney Sweeney, new legends. There's Al Pacino, Kurt Russell, even Sharon Tate and Steve McQueen of old.
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