Please, please, please, I beg of you: don’t stop.
Or, more specifically, please don’t say “I’m done”.
That puts a finality to it that you might feel like you need to live up to.
I can’t make you keep churning out films, and even if I could I wouldn’t want to, because if you were making a movie you didn’t want to be making, it would be less perfect than it could be. And I’m not interested in seeing half-assed Tarantino movies – I’d rather see you stop forever than do a string of for-hire jobs you don’t care about.
No, I want more Tarantino films.
I’m not even saying that you can’t/shouldn’t stop (though for the love of jeebus please don’t). What I’m asking is that you don’t put the finality to it of saying “That’s my filmography finished”, like you’ve been saying you would.
Instead, if you really want to stop at ten, then maybe phrase it like “I’m going on hiatus, maybe forever”.
That way, you won’t feel like you’re going back on your word if you ever do decide to make a number eleven.
I wish, so much, that you would not stop at ten. I want eleven, and fifteen, and twenty-five. But your reasoning is sound and I can’t really argue with you – if you really don’t want to make #11, then I can’t do anything about that.
But, Quentin, I think cinema needs you.
And I have a question: is stopping really what you want?
I think that you must understand Scorsese’s sentiment about how the current glut of superhero trash is “not cinema”. He’s right. And there are only a handful of people still out there doing things differently, still making “real” cinema. Scorsese is one, you’re another.
It’s a tough call, but I think you’re probably better than Scorsese – I think you’re maybe the greatest director in the history of cinema. But I’m not a cinephile to your level, I’m sure you can name a dozen people who you think are better, and give long-winded and well-thought-out reasoning why they’re all better. And I certainly don’t have the chops to try to argue the point against you. All I can say is that I think all of your films are just about perfect, and I think you keep getting better.
Cinema needs you, Quentin. You represent maybe even 25-30% of the “true cinema” that exists in hollywood today. Yes, this is an extremely sad situation.
I’m so tired.
I’m so tired of superheroes, and sequels, and prequels, and remakes, and CGI action spectacles, and seeing things that defy physics to such a degree that it seems like a cartoon, no matter how photorealistically it’s rendered.
What I want to watch is something like…..every movie you’ve ever made. Something with some soul, and character, and depth, that doesn’t suck. Something where I can’t predict everything that’s going to happen before the opening credits have finished rolling.
Did I mention that I don’t really like westerns? I couldn’t care less, really, I think I’m too young, I’m a sci-fi guy. (please oh god please make the star trek thing!). But oh how I adored the Hateful Eight.
Your films transcend genre.
I don’t look at a synopsis or a trailer before I go and see your movies, I just hear “the new Tarantino”, and I go to the cinema. It’s been this way for years and years. I think I probably saw a trailer for inglorious basterds. I’m not sure about django. I definitely didn’t see a trailer for Hateful Eight, and I actively avoided foreknowledge about Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.
…If I may just stop for a moment to wax poetic on the masterpiece that is Once Upon A Time. I mean, they’re all masterpieces, but Once Upon A Time is so much more subtle, mature, and hilariously cathartic than any of the others, in such a lovely way. That ending scene with the title card caps off your fairy tale so magnificently. Somehow, despite me knowing that it was a Tarantino and having seen all your films and my having spotted your “punishing evil” theme a long time ago, the ending still took me completely by surprise. It was wonderful. And hilarious.
Your theme of using the punishment of evil as catharsis, which has been one of your core things since Basterds, seems to have gone unnoticed somehow in the discourse that I’ve seen. Or maybe I’m just not travelling in the right circles.
I love it so much. I keep asking myself what group of unambiguous evildoers you’ll put in your crosshairs next. If I may be bold enough to make a suggestion to perhaps the greatest filmmaker of all time, here it is: Sexual Predators. Make a movie about a guy named Harvey Epstein. Might be a bit of a difficult one to make, though.
Please don’t stop, Quentin. There will always be another group of evildoers out there. And I feel like as soon as you say “I’m done”, you’ll immediately think of #11, and regret saying it. And then you’ll either make #11 and undermine your credibility a little, or we’ll all miss out on a potentially amazing #11.
So here’s what I ask of you: Please don’t say “I’m done”, instead say “I’m taking a break” and don’t feel under any pressure to make any more. But if you come up with something you want to do, you shouldn’t let some artificial barrier stop you, and you shouldn’t have to intellectually manoeuvre to do it with conceits like “well this film isn’t part of the main filmography due to
I’ve seen more than one artist declare that they’re “done”. Perhaps the best example I can think of is one Trent Reznor, who I’ve heard saying things very close to “I’m done” on more than one occasion. But he’s not done, and I don’t think he ever will be while he’s alive and able-bodied – it’s my belief that the true artist can’t help himself but to create, and that when these people say things like “I’m done”, it never goes how they seem to think it will, and in my mind they just undermine their credibility, demonstrates a lack of self-awareness, and lower their esteem a little in my eyes when they say things like this. I wish you’d be smarter than that.
I can’t tell you what to do. I wouldn’t want to force you to do anything you don’t actively want to do. These are all just suggestions and my opinions based on not very much of anything at all. My one core insight here is this: If you say you’re done, you might then find yourself in a situation where you want to do #11 but haven said you wouldn’t, so feel like you shouldn’t.
And that would be, in my estimation, perhaps the greatest tragedy in the history of cinema, because in my opinion, you might be the greatest filmmaker of all time.
And I leave you with one final remark:
Thank you.