THE HATEFUL EIGHT, Quentin Tarantino 2015

We saw it in the original 70mm roadshow format with overture, additional scenes and a break, on a curved, original cinerama cinema screen, so basically in the way it is intended, with friends, popcorn and shit, paying money for it, double the price for this old school analog feeling. Honestly, if I wasn´t living next to one of the few theaters still equipped to show films like this, I wouldn´t haved worried about it to much. Can it be compared to playing computer games as a dlc in contrast to buying it in the collectors edition with some goodies inside? Maybe. The essence in still the game or the film, regardless to the presentation. But, oh boy, we had fun in this palace full of ugly fake gold, fake carpets and chandeliers telling of past and glorious cheap thrills last night. Seeing it together and listening friends comment on jokes, music, reacting to the pendulum of scratching right in the core of the nature of racism and splattering in up to its gore Tarantino constantly swings, is part of the experience, even or especially of the „it reminds me of“ game involved: Oh look, there is Stuntman Mike. Oh look, Tim Roth is playing the English man like Christoph Waltz. Oh man, the prisoner bitch looks exactly like CARRIE. This music reminds me so much of DEATH BECOMES HER etc. You (and maybe me, too) can think whatever we want to think of the over the over the over the over the over the over over the over the over the top violence (citation in because it´s so much fun, Debbie, get it citation out), but Tarantino just understands how cinema works in the both animalistic and thinking parts of our brains fucking well. Oh, and by the way, in 8 WOMEN there are also eight persons.