A look into the subversive content of The Hateful Eight

*WARNING: This review contains a lot of spoilers!*

You're name has to be Quentin Tarantino to get the wrath of black power activist and director Spike Lee on one side and the American fascist coppers on the other. While Lee accused him of racism before Django Unchained came out, the coppers decided to boycott The Hateful Eight because he spoke out against their murderous crimes committed to black people around the country. There you have it, Tarantino has opponents on both sides of the political spectrum. That can only mean one thing: he is doing well.

Just like Django Unchained, The Hateful Eight is a movie where the black man's struggle is one of the main narratives, embodied by Samuel L. Jackson's character major Marquis Warren. He is one of those 'hateful eight' where the movies' title is referring to. Unlike Django Unchained though, the leitmotif isn't only comprised out of a black vs. white power strife. What drives this film, is the bounty on Daisy Domergue's (Jennifer Jason Leigh) head and the events leading up to her handover by bounty hunter John Ruth (Kurt Russell) to the sheriff of Red Rock. This makes The Hateful Eight less of a manifesto than Django Unchained was, but it nevertheless addresses some hot potatoes. Or did everyone already knew Minnie (Dana Gourrier) was going to be a black woman?

By keeping Minnie as one of the most important subjects of conversation in this dialogue-driven film, Tarantino makes us feel like we are acquainted with her long before we get to see her. The fact that she appears to be a black woman, married to (or at least living together with) the older white guy Sweet Dave (Gene Jones), is something that challenges our expectations. Maybe you hadn't pictured her at all, but given the fact that we are seeing a post-civil war western with the only black guy being major Warren, I certainly did not expect her to be black. This passive and dormant kind of racism, which is very much an unconscious racism, doesn't have to be harmful, but it shows that even innocent racism can manifest itself through prejudice. A prejudice Tarantino uses to make a plot twist that wouldn't have worked if this was, say, a political drama or a social realist film. He tests the audience's conception of the western-genre without them even realizing it. This resourceful approach of tackling basic racist assumptions towards westerns (Minnie is going to be an older, white woman, was what I expected) is - unfortunately - quite different from the rather stereotypical rendition of Bob, the Mexican (Demián Bichir). With shit-for-brains like Donald Trump spreading so much hatred towards Mexicans these days, it would've been welcome to see a different kind of Bob. On the other hand, it already is a small victory to see Bob played by a native Mexican actor and not just any actor who looks Latin-American doing a Spanish accent.

In the confrontation between major Warren and confederate general Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern), Tarantino isn't as subtle in handling the subject of racism (that is: through typical, rather uninspired North vs. South resentment) and tops it off with some good old fashioned homophobia. Tarantino uses this homophobic sentiment through the voice of major Warren, who is describing to the general how he made his son suck his big, black Johnson. There is nothing wrong with men sucking each other's cock, do'h, but in this instance Tarantino uses the negative association of one man sucking the Johnson of another to make the general go mad with rage. He could only be driven this mad because the very act of a man sucking another man's cock is - according to homophobic sentiment - humiliating (as in: emasculating) in its own nature. So, while we support major Warren in his rage against white supremacists, his means of doing so - through homophobia - are quite unfortunate. Tarantino doesn't reward homophobes though. The male ego trip of major Warren gets an answer when his pecker and balls are blown off by Jody Domergue. It might be just coincidence, but the fact that Jody is played by Channing Tatum - who is very popular among many gay men (not in the least because of the Magic Mike franchise) - feels to me quite ironic and almost brilliant in a meta-way.

Both racism and homophobia are being avenged, but I cannot get rid of the impression that this movie isn't really women-friendly. It, in fact, is a very, very masculine film and even quite misogynic - which doesn't mean that there won't be any women who'll like it. It just means that, in this case, all female characters get butchered and the - only! - female protagonist is a crazy-ass bitch. The Hateful Eight has a total length of almost three hours, but Tarantino wasn't capable of making us actually feel for the characters he created. I'm not claiming that 'a female touch' would've made the film more emotionally invested (which is just sexist in its own way), I'm claiming he missed an opportunity in making Daisy (and Leigh) a strong female lead who could stand her own ground in a male dominated society and, on a meta-level, cast. She just gets beaten and insulted throughout the whole movie, while she hysterically laughs her pain away. The mysterious atmosphere surrounding her character feels completely underused. For the record: I'm not accusing Tarantino of misogyny (did you see Jackie Brown, Kill Bill or Death Proof?). I'm just saying that - from a feminist point of view - there's almost no interesting, positive narrative in The Hateful Eight. An enfant terrible like Tarantino could've messed a bit more with the gaze of male chauvinist pigs. The fact that Daisy gets her sweet, bloody revenge on John, is rather a minor comfort in this case.

Is this politically correct cinema then? No. It isn't. That would be utterly boring. Tarantino shoots to kill and culminates with a (predictable) splatter- and gorefest. Like Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth) explains: "frontier justice is uncivilized, but it just feels so damn good!" Exactly. Same goes for shooting racist, homophobic and misogynic assholes, or bad guys in general, in Tarantino movies: the ruder the killing, the better the gratification. In the final scene, when major Warren en sheriff Mannix (Walton Goggins) are watching the life drain out of Daisy's eyes while they hang her, the audience is confronted with sheer voyeuristic sadism - and in a superficial way it is just that, were it not that Tarantino is very aware of that very fact. When the sardonic laughter of both Warren and Mannix resonates over the sound tape when she's finally dead, it almost feels like Tarantino's way of saying: fuck all of those people who keep questioning and criticizing the violence in my movies, I just do whatever the hell I want. Politically correct? I think not. Tarantino just knows who those bigots are who deserve an over-the-top killing on screen. In a way it even eases our wish to see them actually get killed in real life.

Finally, there's an extra subversive element that concerns form rather than substance. I'm not talking about the shooting on 65mm and projecting on 70mm (which I cannot talk about since theaters here only have digital prints), but about the fact that this movie has more in common with a stage play than with a Hollywood blockbuster. If you can get an audience to come and see your film on the premise it'll be the next big thing (because everybody's talking about it), only to confront them with almost three hours of talking all in one location (well, almost), you have tricked them into seeing something different, something they're not used to. The Hateful Eight therefore demands patience and focus from its viewers, something the Hollywood industry (that includes the NY-based Weinstein Company) won't normally allow because blockbusters these days need to be all about entertainment and speed. Tarantino proves you don't have to be a European art director to break with these popcorn-conventions.

While I missed an emotional connection to the characters, I remain impressed with Tarantino's dialogue writing skills and his ability to provoke - even though many will claim it's all just a pose, without real integrity or authenticity. It's not that I'm not aware of the money-machine and marketing behind it all. Or that I'm blind to Tarantino's megalomanic and often unoriginal tendencies. It's just that I still am convinced he is one of the most eccentric, polarizing and exceptional directors working today, which makes him sincere and authentic in a (here it comes!) postmodern way.