Once Upon a Time in (White) Hollywood
Tarantino's alternative history of the 1960's uncritically repeats the era's sexist and racist stereotypes.

An anarcho-absurdist blood-soaked grand guignol indie flick with attitude to burn, this is the pitch perfect youth movie from Hong Kong. A twenty-something punk fancies himself a total player, but the best job he can find is overnight clerk at a convenience store. The other clerk is a cute chick and you’re thinking “rom com,” but then there’s a robbery, a gangster, a shoot-out, and by the time a neighbor is pulling out a homemade bomb, you realize that this violent farce is all about the current situation in Hong Kong where nothing makes sense, the heartless wipe their feet on the hopeless, and you might as well burn it all down because there are no more better tomorrows.
Tarantino's alternative history of the 1960's uncritically repeats the era's sexist and racist stereotypes.
The plot could’ve really been interesting if the elements of lycanthropy was integrated with perhaps the struggle of identity of being LGBTQ+. It's an experience for so many that as they’re starting to realizing their true selves, they feel like a monster, especially if they come from unsupportive homes or communities. Instead, the horror and transformation elements seem thrown in without contemplation of how this could deepen the narrative.
This is not a story of oppression but a story of liberation.
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This is ambitious horror filmmaking, and in a lot of ways, I fully admire its ambitions. For me, the film’s sloppiness defines its overall quality.