There’s silence when we expect a back-and-forth dialogue, noticed in the car rides Rick and Cliff share. But Tarantino subverts them in ways that result in a film that feels like his most personal and introspective. The deep-cut pop culture references, the dynamic soundtrack, the sharp dialogue that permits no imitators or substitutes, the narrative deviations, the flexibility of time, appearances by numerous prior collaborators and, of course, a heaping dose of ultraviolence. Many of his signatures are still present. It feels as though his entire filmography, predicated on his relationship to the past and the pop culture that shaped him, has ultimately led to Once Upon a Time. There’s something different driving Tarantino’s ninth film, especially when taken in the context of his filmography. There’s an effervescent quality to this scene, one that permits the heart to skip a beat in elation while simultaneously feeling the pangs of sadness for the reality in which we exist, one removed from the fairy tale of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.
Their real legacy suggests a usefulness that lives beyond the roles they are expected to play. The legacy of a filmmaker, and all the jobs that entails, goes beyond the art they make and we consume. Within this meta moment of an actress playing Tate watching the real Sharon Tate resides the soul of Quentin Tarantino’s latest film. It’s a tribute to the woman, not as a victim, but as an actress, a talented one on the rise. Robbie’s Sharon Tate is watching the actual Sharon Tate onscreen, her real performance in The Wrecking Crew (1968).
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