The official version is that Quentin Tarantino’s latest gore fest, THE HATEFUL EIGHT, was supposed to be a one-off staged reading in a down town LA flea pit. Such was the response, however, that, aw shucks, he just had to make the screenplay into a 70mm Cinerama extravaganza. Strange choice in some ways as the finished product is not full of vista vision landscapes, but rather the claustrophobic interiors of a coach comfort stop.

Comfort is not Quentin’s strong suit, so knowledgeable Tarantino audiences know that this is ironic, that comfort is eschewed by confrontation, that conflict will trump tranquility, and that there will be blood.

Tarantino teases the mayhem out for three turgid hours, including an intermission. The first three minutes is chewed up by a slide that says Overture. No action, just the musical overture by Ennio Morricone. Quaint, Quentin, but dull.

Then the picture proper commences and we are instantly in Western genre with a stage coach plowing through the Wyoming winter snow. The coach is waylaid by a black bounty hunter and ex Union cavalry officer, Major Marquis Warren, played with motherfuckin mojo by Samuel L. Jackson, ya’ll.

His mount has perished and stranded him in the snow with three cadavers, his booty. He and his cargo of corpses need a lift to the next big town, Red Rock, so he can cash in on the deceased desperadoes. Trouble is, this coach is private charter, hired by fellow bounty hunter, John Ruth, aka The Hangman, (Kurt Russell) with his ten thousand dollar alive and kicking bounty, Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh).

After a tirade of Tarantino talk, Warren is accessed to the coach and we are on our way.

But wow wee, another wayfarer waives the coach down, a certain Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins) who purports to be the new sheriff of Red Rock and successfully argues that as he will be the man taking custody of Daisy when they reach town and paying John Ruth his bounty.

Mother nature is part of the conspiracy to delay their arrival at their desired destination, and a blizzard compels them to seek shelter at Minnie’s Haberdashery.

Seems to both bounty hunters something is amiss. Minnie is missing and a Mexican (Demian Bichir) appears to be running the outpost. And a motley crew are already ensconced – a cowpoke, (Michael Madsen), an English toff,(Tim Roth) and a Confederate General, (Bruce Dern)

And so the stage is set for a standoff in suspicion and a gab fest curtain raiser to a gore fest epilogue.

Despite it being shot in Ultra Panavision 70 by celebrated cinematographer, Robert Richardson, THE HATEFUL EIGHT is a stagy affair that succumbs to static and stagnant at times. Tarantino is a lover of words and he has given us some of the most memorable tracts of dialogue and monologue in recent film history. Both his Oscars are for screen writing. However, THE HATEFUL EIGHT seems bloated, champagne bubble replaced with beer fizz, made all the more noticeable as the picture wears on, drunk on verbiage and weaving inebriated, rather than intoxicatingly eloquent.

Murderously misogynist, the main female character, Daisy, is chained, repeatedly punched, shot and strangled in the course of the narrative. No wonder Jennifer Jason Leigh’s marvelous portrayal conjures a mature possessed Regan from The Exorcist. She is put through hell so why not play the devil. Daisy’s denouement also conjures Carrie, as her abuse and humiliation continue with a coating of blood – her own and others – as the violence escalates.

So THE HATEFUL EIGHT is as much a horror film as it is a Western, with aspects of the closed room detective story thrown in.

THE HATEFUL EIGHT is Tarantino’s longest film to date -unless you want to quibble Kill Bill was one film – and unfortunately doesn’t sustain its length. It’s a given his films are gratuitous, but they’ve also been largely gratifying. There’s so much film flab here it smacks of Cimino hubris, the worst manifestation of which is a voice over narrative that rewinds the action for a significant plot point, a device that derails the dramatic momentum and sounds and looks clumsy.