No one warned me that Once Upon a Time in Hollywood was going to be 2 hours and 40 minutes long.

Or that it would be paced the way it was.

Certainly the trailer suggested a fun, breezy, upbeat romp.

I knew there would be exaggerated violence of some kind. There had to be. It’s a Quentin Tarantino movie.

But what I found myself mostly feeling… was a little bored. Much of the time.

HOWEVER…

The film has stayed with me. And there were moments that I thought were fantastic.

So on one hand I admire it and am glad it exists. I’m glad I saw it. I’m intrigued by much about it. 

But I thought it would be useful to explore why it didn’t garner a more enthusiastic reaction from me overall. By focusing, as always, on script choices.

And there are two main reasons. SOME SPOILERS FOLLOW.

1. The scenes are very long, and often not much is happening, dramatically.

When I see (or write) a script that goes significantly over what is usually thought of as the ideal page count (let’s say 100-110 for a feature), usually it’s not so much a matter of there being big cuts to make. Although writers who send me such scripts often ask me to “look for cuts.” Usually the extra length stems from the overall approach the writer has taken. Which tends to mean “long scenes.” 

Now if it’s a very early draft, it’s normal to be “long.” And I usually say that if you focus on the creative issues, overall, the length will come down as a by-product. So it’s not about trying to make it shorter, as the primary goal. It’s about approaching scenes by identifying what is crucial — what the scene is really about — and then getting to it quickly, and then getting out quickly.  

Tarantino is not known for this. He’s known for extended scenes. Most of the time, in the movies of his that I know well, that works, because of a combination of appealing dialogue, cool/interesting stuff going on and just great filmmaking. But also, most of the time, there are intense life and death stakes, and a lot of built in tension. Take the opening sequence in Inglourious Basterds. Or virtually anything in Pulp Fiction that isn’t in the 1950’s diner. That tension keeps us on the edge of our seats.

In most of Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, we don’t have that. No life and death tension. But still very long scenes. The filmmaking is great, the acting is great, and sometimes the dialogue is intriguing. But whats missing, often, is a major dramatic problem or conflict that I really wanted to see solved.

2. No “main character” actively pursues resolution to an overall problem or goal.

We’re essentially following three people in this movie, and though each has problems or potential problems, there isn’t exactly a “story” in the traditional sense where they spend the whole movie trying to gain resolution to something important to them (and encounter complications which build the story).

Leonardo DiCaprio has a compelling problem in that he thinks his acting career is over. But the movie doesn’t give him a “set-up” section where it’s easy to get on his side and care that much about this. He’s depicted as kind of a self-absorbed actor having a pity party. Which is fun to watch at times. But he’s not really actively pursuing a fix to his situation, that the audience is super on-board with, I don’t think.

He’s given an opportunity to do Italian westerns, and isn’t sure he wants to. Then he goes to do another guest spot on a TV western. He’s not real enthused about this. But circumstances transpire to make him feel like he wants to do a good job as an actor that day. It’s not that he’s going to fix some larger problem in his life with this. But his early stumbles on the set plus a conversation with a child actor (in a very long scene) makes him want to do better. And then he does. (In another very long scene.) After he does, it’s a great moment. He’s moved and satisfied by his good work, which is appealing. Although we’re still kind of laughing at him.

Maybe this good performance of his inspires something that leads to better choices and better career prospects later, but we kind of skim over all that as we jump ahead in time to a fateful summer evening in 1969, where he will face a new and very different challenge (and a pretty severe genre switch). When that is resolved, there’s a powerful moment where we sense that now he could be moving into a better future, as he finally gets a chance to meet his “new Hollywood” neighbors. But along the way, it hasn’t really been a traditional story of him consciously trying to solve a problem or reach a goal.

This can make things feel slow or meandering at times.

And the other two primary characters have even less of what we’d normally see as “story.”

Brad Pitt is a stunt double who can’t get a lot of work these days. But he’s not really doing anything to try to solve it. He’s kind of just living his life. And that’s really what the movie is: 2-3 days in the life of three Hollywood characters in 1969 Los Angeles. Which is depicted in loving, painstaking detail.

This isn’t to say there aren’t entertaining moments with Brad. And even an occasional scene of high tension. Like when he faces off with members of the Manson family at the Spahn ranch. But he doesn’t have a continuous ongoing story problem/goal that he’s actively trying to address.

Margot Robbie has far less to do than either of them. She’s just kind of obliviously living her happy life as an up-and-coming young actress, unaware of any real problems. So her scenes seem like they establish her as a nice person, but that’s pretty much it.

But still the movie got solid reviews and won some major awards. And it has a lot of fans. So what is a writer to take from this?

It might be obvious to say, but I’ll say it:

When you’re Quentin Tarantino, you can kind of write what you want, get financing, and make the movie. And he’s been doing this since Reservoir Dogs. If you’re making a movie independently (or are super established already), that’s a very different scenario from a writer trying to break in, in terms of impressing people with a script. I have my doubts that this script would have won over professional readers, if it was coming from an unknown, and gotten sold or produced, or moved the writer ahead.

That’s not to diminish its value and what’s good about it. It’s just that writers often want to cite projects that have been made as evidence that certain things can work in a script and find success. And as I’ve written about before, I think it’s a bit more complicated than that. It’s kind of comparing apples to oranges — a script for a movie in theatres from an A-lister, vs. a script that a writer uses to break in.

I think there’s a lot of good to be taken from this movie, probably worthy of another post. Which someone else has probably written. My main point is that, as much as one might like the movie (or certain things in it), I would caution against taking too much from this as a model of “what works” — and learn from what is causing some to say that it meanders and is overly long.

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