The Hateful Eight

MOVIE TITLE: The Hateful Eight

DIRECTOR: Quentin Tarantino

YEAR: 2015

GENRE: Western Thriller

RATING: R for violence, swearing, nudity, and rape

GRADE: Pass

A blizzard hits Wyoming in the middle of bounty hunter John Ruth transporting his $10,000 captive Daisy Domergue to Red Rock to be executed. After his stagecoach picks up two extra passengers along the way, Major Marquis Warren and Sheriff Chris Mannix, the travelers are forced to hunker down in a lodge together with other suspicious characters until the blizzard passes over. As the strangers get to know each other, not everyone can keep their stories straight and it leads to paranoid distrust. Bodies begin piling up until their paranoia tapers, which means Daisy’s chances of escaping execution increase even more.

Just like with any other Quentin Tarantino movie, every character is developed through realistic, gritty, and vulgar dialogue. It’s not just cursing and slurs for the sake of edginess. Everything said in this movie has a purpose and nothing goes to waste. This is especially true when Marquis is telling old man Sandy Smithers how the latter’s son died at the former’s hands. It’s also true when John Ruth tells stories about how he prefers to hang his bounties rather than give them an easy route to death. And it’s true again when Chris Mannix brags about his father’s renegade army of confederate remnants fighting for a dying cause. None of the characters’ back stories or present actions make them appear sympathetic, I’ll admit, but if we were meant to sympathize with them, the movie wouldn’t be called the Hateful Eight. This is classic Tarantino storytelling at its apex.

I also must commend the musicianship of Ennio Morricone, who provided most of the soundtrack for this movie. Whenever a feeling of impending doom or hard justice needs to be experienced by the audience, Morricone’s music will make them believe in the brutality they’re seeing onscreen. He has a legendary track record of providing fantastic scores for western movies, so recruiting him was a natural fit on Tarantino’s part. I’m not sure if the Hateful Eight’s soundtrack has been released as a CD or digital album, but if it hasn’t, then it’s a crime. Classical music never goes out of style and even if it did, it can always be revived by conductors like Morricone.

Tarantino movies could be criticized for dragging themselves out too long or being overindulgent in their exposition through dialogue, but in the case of the Hateful Eight, I don’t agree with that sentiment at all. Everything had its place. Every conversation had its own feeling of drama and excitement. If you watch Tarantino movies just for the brutality, you might have to wait a while, but it’ll be worth it in the end. Think of the conversations as the slow build and the violence as the major crescendo in a symphony of masterful filmmaking. I wouldn’t lump John Ruth punching and elbowing Daisy in with that symphony since it was disturbing to watch and out of context it would make John Ruth look like a jerk. Yes, your butt will go numb as you go through this two and a half hour long masterpiece, but when you’re kicking it in the Caribbean, you’ll be saying to yourself, “Marcellus Wallace was right.” Wait a minute, wrong movie! But you get the idea.

While this movie isn’t anything earth shattering, it is a piece of art to be admired and rewatched just to soak in the talents of everybody involved. Samuel L. Jackson was undoubtedly the show stealer when it came to the acting. Ennio Morricone’s music is always heaven on the ears. The story itself can be easily pieced together once the movie draws to its conclusion. All in all, there’s not much to complain about even with the lengthy screen time and the scenes where Daisy gets punched (despite the fact that she too is an unsympathetic villain). A passing grade will go to this modern day Tarantino classic!

Suicide Note

Taking away our most brilliant minds

A suicide note is all you’ll ever find

More questions asked than answers given

Not one mere solution among the living

Not one necromantic spell for the night

Not one more song, not one more light

Only sadness and rage, rinse and repeat

Images of dead bodies’ dangling feet

Permanent reminder of a hangman’s rope

Only a bottle of pills to help you cope

Nothing we do can bring them back

True magic is what this world lacks

We lock each other in the tiniest cages

But it won’t tack on any extra ages

None of the tears we drop in pain

Can keep it from being all in vain

Go through the motions for another day

One more light? Who gives a shit anyway?

Rest in Peace, Chester Bennington

***REST IN PEACE, CHESTER BENNINGTON***

This morning (July 20^th, 2017), the lead singer of Linkin Park, Chester Bennington, committed suicide by hanging. When I first heard the news on Face Book, I thought I was going to bawl my eyes out right then and there. Linkin Park has been a huge part of my life since 2002 when I was experiencing schizophrenia in my senior year of high school. Their hard rock sound and thoughtful lyrics helped me through those tough times. I first heard their Hybrid Theory album when I was in gym class lifting weights. I saved up enough money and purchased that CD in 2003 and it become a huge part of getting me through Olympic College. My favorite songs on that album were Paper Cut, Place For My Head, and the bonus track My December. Ever since then, I’ve been buying Linkin Park albums until I had every last one of them.

I’ve seen Linkin Park in concert twice in my life, once in 2003 (or 2004) at the Tacoma Dome and once in 2012 at the same venue with Incubus opening for them. Both times, Chester was on his A-game with his aggressive vocals when it counted and softer crooning when we needed to be brought back to earth. In 2012, he paid tribute to the Beastie Boys when he screamed the vocals for “Sabotage” in the wake of MCA’s untimely death. The music nerd within me was going nuts during those performances. I was jumping up and down and moshing with the best of them, even during times of poor diets and bad exercise habits.

Their most recent album, One More Light, received a lot of criticism from diehard fans for being too much of a pop record instead of staying true to their roots. While it is true that experimenting with music can sometimes end badly, that’s not the case with this album, at least in my opinion. Yes, it’s different from what we’re used to hearing, but I love it nonetheless. My favorites on that album include Nobody Can Save Me, Heavy, and One More Light. I was looking forward to hearing those songs at my upcoming third time seeing Linkin Park live this October.

Speaking of the concert, the status of Linkin Park as a band is up in the air right now because of Chester’s death. Chances are, the concert date might be moved to a later time or it might be cancelled altogether. Maybe Mike Shinoda, who normally raps for Linkin Park, can take over Chester’s vocals. Maybe they’ll get a temporary stand-in until they can find someone permanent. Then again, there’s always the chance Linkin Park could break up over this. They haven’t released an official statement yet (it’s too early to do so), but I’m anxiously awaiting one in the weeks to come.

In the wake of Chester’s suicide, he left behind a wife and many children as well as his band mates. Having said that, I don’t believe it’s right to cast anger upon him for this or accuse him of being “selfish”. Never forget that the man had a lot of emotional trauma to deal with. He was raped repeatedly as a child by an older friend, he was a hardcore drug addict, he was bullied and beaten in high school, and his only escape from it all was Linkin Park. When you’re dealing with that much pain and agony, selfishness is the last reason in the world that should be applied. Psychological trauma is just as agonizing as any physical ailment, maybe even worse. Chester’s suicide left a huge hole in my heart as well as those of everyone around him. May he rest peacefully and may those who loved him recover from their heartache.