<< In the dead of a Wyoming winter a bounty hunter and his prisoner find shelter in a cabin currently inhabited by a collection if nefarious characters>>

Tedious Bloody Bullshit with nice Winter Scenery

This was my first film of 2016, viewed on January  14th in Budapest at the Művész Art Cinema with Hungarian subtitles.

It opens with a big yellow caption announcing that this is Quentin's EIGHTH film --Presented with their Customary enormous Bad Taste by the Hollywood Weinstein Brothers. (Remind me never to waste any money on another Weinstein Production again).

We then get some magnificentent snow scenery in wintry Wyoming and a stagecoach pulled by six horses in XLS slowly hoves into view. Aboard we have a paranoid bounty hunter bringing his caprive, the notorious bandit woman Domergue (pronounced as "Dough- murr-gee"-- An uglified Jennifer Jason Leigh) to a town called Red Rock, to get her hanged and collect on the bounty. 

 A big black n-word hitchhiker turns out to be Samuel L. Jackson, ex major in the Union Army, and extremely badass.  Jennifer has no scruples about referring to major Jackson as "the nigger" and the "n-word is then used so profusely throughout the rest of the film that it becomes almost a term of endearment. Sam doesn't seem to mind at all as he will eventually get to blast this collection of sickening white trash away one after another with great gusto and sloshy blood letting.

These people take refuge from a blizzard in a log house way station where we encounter a numb elderly Bruce Dern (ex Union general) plunked in an armchair nearly motionless, like a refugee from Alexander Payne's Nebraska. He wants to find his son but we will eventually find out that Major Sam caught him, tortured him, and finally made him suck his big black dick on his knees, naked in the snow, before blowing him away with post-blowjob shot to the head 

The story in the cabin (also before and after) plays out in six labeled chapters filled with Reservoir Dog type taunting, menace, and Mayhem and endless boring dialogue, much of it nearly undecipherable without Hungarian subtitles -- until we reach a glorious conclusion with Samuel fatally shot in the gonads, ut able to hang bloody-faced Jennifer in a perfect hangmans noose before crapping out himself. 

Along the way some have been poisoned  by poison in the coffee pot, and one, in his death throes, vomits up blood onto Jennifer's face, which decorates her face in red for the rest of the film.

How all this came about we dumbells are expained in Chapter Six which is a flashback to before chapter One to clarify how this mess all got started. The only thing missing to call this exercise in cinematic masturbation   "Pulp Fiction 2, Winter Version" -- is the absence of John Travolta.  It actually got to be rather amusing when I woke up from a drowse in the chatty middle chapters.    Easily the worst film Quarantino has ever made, but when you reach his pinnacle of success you can get Almost any kind of expensive stupid self-indulgence produced and foisted on an unsuspecting public.  As one smart physicist once said about a ridiculous new theory, "It isn't even wrong..." --

QT's 8th outing isn't even bad --  it's just a pointless waste of celluloid and talent. It does deserve one star, however, for the Wyoming snow scenery.

My alternate title: "The Hateful Ate Shit all the Way Home"

Alexx, Budapest