“Once Upon a Time in Hollywood,” directed by Quentin Tarantino, is a love letter to 1960s Los Angeles and the dying days of Hollywood’s Golden Age. It’s a film that straddles two worlds: the old Hollywood of the studio system, and the new era of independent filmmakers and counter-culture. Released in 2019, the movie was received with both acclaim and controversy, and like many of Tarantino’s works, it was a polarizing experience. The film is brimming with nostalgia, humor, violence, and of course, Tarantino’s signature style of dialogue and non-linear storytelling. Yet, it is perhaps Tarantino’s most mature and reflective work, grappling with the past and the passage of time in ways that feel both personal and deeply philosophical.
Set in 1969, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” follows the lives of Rick Dalton (Leonardo DiCaprio), a fading television actor, and his stunt double and best friend, Cliff Booth (Brad Pitt). The film takes place over a few days in February 1969, then leaps forward to the night of August 8, 1969, famously known for the horrific Manson Family murders of actress Sharon Tate (played by Margot Robbie) and her friends. Tarantino’s film, however, doesn’t follow history’s dark course to its end, and instead offers a revisionist take on the infamous event.
The film’s central narrative revolves around Dalton’s insecurities as he faces the reality that his career is in decline. Once a star of a successful television series, he now finds himself relegated to guest-starring roles, often as the villain of the week. Dalton is fearful of becoming irrelevant, and his despair is palpable as he realizes that Hollywood is changing around him. DiCaprio delivers a performance that is both hilarious and heartbreaking. He brings to life a man who is deeply insecure and, at times, pathetic, yet still sympathetic. There is a sense of tragic comedy in Dalton’s plight, and DiCaprio deftly balances both the humor and the sadness of a man who fears he has been left behind by time.
Cliff Booth, on the other hand, is a man seemingly at peace with his position in life. He is Rick’s stunt double, driver, and occasional handyman. While Rick is anxious about his place in Hollywood, Cliff appears unconcerned, content with his simple life. Brad Pitt’s portrayal of Cliff earned him an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor, and it’s easy to see why. Pitt imbues Cliff with a quiet confidence and charisma. He is laid back, cool, and resourceful—a man comfortable in his skin, despite the whispers that he might have gotten away with murder. Yet, beneath his affable exterior lies a sense of danger, a sharp contrast to Rick’s vulnerability.
Tarantino’s decision to center the story around these two men—both relics of a fading Hollywood—offers an interesting meditation on masculinity and friendship. Cliff and Rick’s relationship is the emotional heart of the film. There is a deep bond between them, one built on loyalty and mutual dependence. Cliff’s unwavering support of Rick, despite the latter’s neuroses and self-doubt, speaks to the unspoken rules of male friendship. They are a duo out of time, clinging to the remnants of a Hollywood that no longer exists.
Amidst their story, the film also presents the tale of Sharon Tate, played with radiant grace by Margot Robbie. Tate represents a different side of 1960s Hollywood: the promise of youth, beauty, and the possibility of a bright future. Robbie’s portrayal of Tate is tender and almost dreamlike. There is a sense of tragedy that underlines her presence in the film, but Tarantino does not dwell on her death. Instead, he gives her moments of joy and light. In one memorable scene, Tate goes to a theater to watch herself in a movie, delighting in the audience’s laughter and applause. It’s a small moment, but it humanizes Tate in a way that many biographical films about famous figures fail to do. Tarantino does not treat her as a martyr or a symbol, but as a person who was full of life, cut tragically short.
In true Tarantino fashion, the film’s narrative meanders, taking detours that showcase the world of Hollywood in 1969. We see glimpses of famous actors and directors, neon-lit streets, and the mechanics of the film industry. Tarantino lovingly recreates the era, filling the screen with period-appropriate details, from the fashion to the music to the advertisements on billboards. The film is a sensory experience, evoking the feeling of a specific time and place.
One of the more controversial aspects of “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is its depiction of Bruce Lee, portrayed by Mike Moh. In the film, Lee is shown as arrogant and full of himself, challenging Cliff to a fight on the set of “The Green Hornet.” The scene has been criticized by Lee’s family and fans, who argue that the portrayal is disrespectful and inaccurate. Tarantino has defended the scene, claiming it is meant to be a humorous exaggeration. Regardless of intent, the scene highlights the ways in which the film plays fast and loose with historical figures and events, blending fact with fiction in ways that are sometimes provocative.
This blending of fact and fiction culminates in the film’s climax, a violent reimagining of the night the Manson Family descended on the home of Sharon Tate. In Tarantino’s version, the Manson followers mistakenly target Rick Dalton’s house instead, where they encounter Cliff and his dog, Brandy. What follows is a brutal, darkly comedic sequence in which Cliff and Brandy violently dispatch the would-be killers. It is a cathartic release, a fantasy in which the horrors of real life are subverted and rewritten. The violence in the scene is shocking, even by Tarantino’s standards, and it has sparked debates about the ethics of rewriting history in such a way. Some have praised Tarantino for giving Sharon Tate a happier ending, while others have criticized the film for its indulgent violence and disregard for historical accuracy.
At its core, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is about memory and loss. It is a film that looks back at a bygone era with both fondness and melancholy. Tarantino’s Hollywood is not a place of glamour and success, but of struggle and failure. Rick Dalton’s fear of becoming irrelevant reflects a larger fear about the passage of time and the inevitable obsolescence that comes with it. The film is filled with characters who are past their prime, clinging to the hope that they can still make their mark in a world that is moving on without them.
But it is also a film that celebrates the art of filmmaking and the magic of movies. Tarantino fills the film with references to old Hollywood films and TV shows, creating a sense of nostalgia for a time when movies were larger than life and stars were icons. The film’s title itself is a nod to Sergio Leone’s “Once Upon a Time” trilogy, invoking a sense of myth and legend. Tarantino’s Hollywood is a place where dreams are made, but also where they die.
The film’s pacing is deliberate, and some viewers may find it slow or meandering. Tarantino takes his time, lingering on moments that seem insignificant but contribute to the film’s atmosphere. There are long stretches where not much happens, but the film is never boring. It’s a film that invites the viewer to immerse themselves in the world it creates, to soak in the details and appreciate the craftsmanship.
Technically, the film is a marvel. Robert Richardson’s cinematography captures the golden hues of Los Angeles in the 1960s, making the city itself feel like a character in the film. The production design by Barbara Ling is meticulous, recreating the period with an eye for detail. From the cars to the costumes to the architecture, every element of the film’s design feels authentic and lived-in. Tarantino’s use of music is also worth noting. The film’s soundtrack is filled with classic songs from the 1960s, adding to the film’s sense of time and place. The music is used not just as background noise, but as a way to enhance the mood and emotion of the scenes.
While “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” may not have the same propulsive energy or tight plotting of some of Tarantino’s earlier works, it is a more contemplative and mature film. It is a film about an industry in transition, about people trying to hold on to their relevance in a changing world. It is about the ways in which we remember the past, and the ways in which we rewrite history to suit our narratives.
For all its flaws—its indulgence, its questionable treatment of certain historical figures—”Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is a deeply personal film for Tarantino. It feels like the work of a filmmaker who is reflecting on his own career, his own place in the history of cinema. There is a sense of finality to the film, as though Tarantino is saying goodbye to the Hollywood that shaped him. It’s a film that is both a tribute to the past and a lament for what has been lost.
In the end, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is a film that defies easy categorization. It is part comedy, part drama, part revisionist history. It is at once a celebration and a critique of Hollywood, a film that looks backward while also pushing forward. It is a film that rewards patience and careful attention, offering layers of meaning that reveal themselves upon repeat viewings.
It is a film that asks us to consider the stories we tell ourselves about the past, and the ways in which we shape history to fit our own desires. It is a film about memory, about friendship, about time. And in its final moments, as the fantasy of what could have been plays out on screen, it asks us to contemplate the lines between reality and fiction, between history and myth. In this way, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” stands as one of Tarantino’s most introspective works, a film that grapples with the complexities of nostalgia while indulging in the escapism of cinema.
The film’s final sequence, where Rick Dalton finally gets to meet Sharon Tate after the brutal confrontation with the Manson Family members, is particularly striking. It plays out like a fairy tale ending, where the hero, who had once been on the verge of fading into obscurity, is given a second chance. This moment is emblematic of the film’s central tension: the desire to rewrite history, to give it a Hollywood ending. Tarantino crafts a scene that is full of warmth and optimism, providing an alternate reality where violence and tragedy are averted, and where the future still holds promise.
This is perhaps where the film is at its most poignant. “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” can be read as a meditation on Tarantino’s own fears of aging and irrelevance in a rapidly evolving film industry. Just as Rick Dalton fears that his time has passed, Tarantino too must be aware of his place in an industry that has changed dramatically since his rise to fame in the 1990s. The film, in a sense, becomes an exploration of artistic legacy and the inevitable march of time that spares no one. By crafting a story that allows his characters to triumph over their anxieties and personal struggles, Tarantino offers a sort of catharsis—both for his characters and for himself.
The juxtaposition of Rick’s world, marked by fading fame, and Sharon Tate’s world, full of youthful potential, is a masterstroke in showing the contrasting experiences of those who are at the end of their careers and those who are just beginning. Rick’s interactions with people like Tate, and even the brief glances we get into her life, make the audience keenly aware of what was lost in real life, and what could have been. Tate represents hope, innocence, and the exciting possibilities of the future. Tarantino’s portrayal of her, so full of life and joy, underscores the tragedy of her death without making it the focal point. This choice makes the film’s emotional undercurrent more powerful, as it keeps us grounded in the idea that real people, not just characters in a story, were affected by the events of that night.
Another element worth discussing is the way Tarantino handles the Manson Family. The specter of Charles Manson and his cult hangs over the film from the beginning, but they remain mostly in the background until the climactic sequence. When they do come to the forefront, they are not romanticized or given much depth; they are portrayed as deluded and dangerous, willing to commit atrocities for the sake of their twisted ideology. In keeping with his revisionist approach to history, Tarantino makes the choice to deny them the impact they had in real life, offering a bloody and exaggerated comeuppance that is satisfying within the context of the film’s universe, even if it leaves viewers conflicted about its ethical implications.
The film also engages with the notion of violence in Hollywood—both on and off the screen. Throughout his career, Tarantino has been criticized for his use of violence, and “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is no exception. The brutal fight between Cliff and the Manson followers, complete with a dog mauling, flame throwers, and bone-crunching punches, is over-the-top and graphic, the kind of spectacle one expects from Tarantino. Yet, the violence in this film serves a dual purpose: it is both a visceral form of entertainment and a symbolic act of resistance against the real-world horror that took place. By rewriting the fate of Sharon Tate and her friends, Tarantino allows the film to comment on the power of cinema to reimagine history, to offer an alternative where good triumphs over evil. It is this balance of entertainment and moral complexity that makes the film such a challenging and rewarding experience.
Beyond its plot and themes, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is also a technical achievement. The attention to detail in recreating 1960s Los Angeles is remarkable, with every frame brimming with period-accurate props, costumes, and set designs. From the neon-lit streets of Hollywood to the interior of Rick’s home, there is an authenticity that draws viewers into the world of the film. The camera work, as expected from a collaboration between Tarantino and cinematographer Robert Richardson, is elegant and immersive, capturing the mood and feel of the era with rich, golden hues. Tarantino’s affection for this period in Hollywood’s history is clear, and he fills the screen with visual references that evoke the spirit of the time. Even the cars, the billboards, and the background extras are meticulously chosen to create a sense of authenticity.
The film’s pacing, while slower than some of Tarantino’s previous works, reflects the characters’ inner states and the broader cultural transition happening at the time. It’s a film that takes its time, allowing scenes to unfold naturally without the need for constant action or plot progression. In doing so, it creates a more immersive and reflective experience, encouraging the audience to sit with the characters and the world they inhabit. This slower pace might be frustrating for viewers expecting more of the frenetic energy of Tarantino’s earlier films, but it feels appropriate given the film’s themes of aging, change, and memory.
Tarantino’s use of music is another highlight, with the film’s soundtrack featuring an eclectic mix of 1960s hits that both underscore the emotional beats of the story and help set the tone. The music feels organic, a part of the world the characters live in, and it’s used in ways that enhance rather than overwhelm the narrative. For instance, the choice to use Paul Revere & The Raiders’ “Hungry” during a scene where Cliff drives through the Hollywood Hills creates a feeling of propulsion and cool, while more somber tracks, like The Mamas & The Papas’ “Twelve Thirty,” evoke a sense of nostalgia and loss.
“Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is also a film that invites multiple readings. On one level, it’s a straightforward tale about two men trying to navigate the shifting landscape of Hollywood in the late 1960s. On another level, it’s a meditation on the relationship between history and fiction, reality and fantasy. It asks us to consider the role of stories in shaping our understanding of the past, and how films, in particular, have the power to create myths that can both obscure and illuminate the truth.
Tarantino’s decision to rewrite the ending of the Tate murders has been a source of much debate, and it speaks to the broader tension in the film between fantasy and reality. In offering a happier ending, Tarantino is not just indulging in wish fulfillment—he’s making a statement about the role of cinema in shaping our collective memory. By allowing his characters to defeat the evil that history did not allow them to escape, Tarantino is exploring the limits of fiction’s ability to give us the closure and justice that reality often denies. This is not without its complications, and the film’s ending leaves viewers with much to ponder. Is it ethical to rewrite history in this way? Does it trivialize the real-life tragedy by offering a fictionalized, feel-good alternative? Or is it a way of honoring the victims by giving them the justice they deserved but never received?
In the end, “Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is a film that is as much about the stories we tell as it is about the people who live them. It’s a film that asks us to consider the ways in which Hollywood, with its myths and fantasies, shapes our understanding of the world. And it’s a film that, in true Tarantino fashion, revels in the magic of cinema—the ability to transport us to another time and place, to rewrite history, and to give us the endings we wish were true. It’s a celebration of the art of filmmaking, a reflection on the passage of time, and a meditation on the power of memory. For all its indulgences and excesses, it is a film with a deep emotional core, one that resonates long after the credits roll.
“Once Upon a Time in Hollywood” is, in many ways, a fairy tale—a story of what could have been, rather than what was. It is a film that looks backward with both love and regret, and in doing so, it captures something essential about the human experience: the desire to hold onto the past, even as we move inexorably toward the future. It’s a film about endings, but also about the hope of new beginnings, and in that tension, it finds its most profound truths.
