While I don’t hate Tarantino films, I don’t blindly love them either. The Hateful Eight could be renamed The Hateful Nine, at least in my living room this evening. I am not sure if it was the gratuitous use of the “N” word or the pedantically tedious dialogue that propels the plot at half of the speed of smell that lost me in the first half hour, but barely half way through this Tarantino train wreck was enough for me.
I can promise you no spoilers because I don’t know how it ends and honestly I have no desire to continue subjecting myself to repeated racial slurs hardly justifiable as some sort of sadistic film art. I would have found sitting in a dark kitchen in some greasy restaurant periodically flipping the lights on to watch cockroaches scatter more entertaining than this slow moving merit less piece of trash.
Watch at your own risk. Feel free to leave a comment if you have something to add.
–The Twisted Cripple
Inside a Broken Brain 