Volume 5, Issue 66: Isabella

"A lot of top guys had dark moods."

My upcoming novel, Lloyd McNeil’s Last Ride, will be released on May 20. I believe you will like it. I hope you will pre-order it. Send me your pre-order receipt and I’ll send you a book plate and enter you into a contest to, like, hang out with me. Details here.

Things have been getting pretty heavy of late, in the world and in this newsletter. So I wonder if it’s time for a bit of a mental health break for everybody—myself very muc included. So let’s take a nice big deep breath, make sure we are fortified for the fights ahead … and do some fun movie rankings.

Tim Grierson and I, in addition to our award-winning Grierson & Leitch podcast (note: No awards have yet been won), regularly do movie rankings for Vulture—you can find a seemingly endless scroll of them here. We do get paid for doing them, but it never feels like work. Ranking movies sounds crass—how do you “rank” art?”—but I never think of it that way. Rankings are just an excuse to think about movies, to watch them again, to revel in them, to truly reflect on your experience with them and your emotional reaction to them. Movies are a central driver of how I see the world; Roger Ebert famously called movies “a machine that generates empathy,” and that’s how I’ve always approached them. They’re a way to escape, sure, but they’re also a way to be transported: An opportunity to see the world through someone else’s eyes, to visit a place you’d never be able to go otherwise, to learn about a life outside your own … and maybe learn a little bit about yourself along the way. I consider going to movies not just a pleasant activity, but part of being an engaged, curious person: I’m a smarter, kinder, more compassionate human being because I watch so many movies. I cannot recommend it enough. After I finish this newsletter, I am going to go see a movie with Naomi Watts, Bill Murray and a dog. I do not know what it’s about. But I know, regardless of whether it’s good or bad, it will take me someplace new. I can’t wait.

So, as a palate cleanser after (well, during) a rather unrelenting run of dreadful news—and to take it a little easy on myself after an intense few weeks—let’s rank some movies. We’re going to talk about one of America’s signature filmmakers, who actually made some news earlier this week:

David Fincher is set to direct a sequel to Quentin Tarantino’s 2019 film Once Upon a Time in Hollywood …, per The Hollywood Reporter. Written by Tarantino, the sequel will debut on Net-“No theatrical experience, please”-flix. Brad Pitt will reportedly star, presumably reprising his Oscar-winning role as Cliff Booth.

Quentin Tarantino and David Fincher are—along with Paul Thomas Anderson, probably—the definitive Generation-X filmmakers, but their sensibilities could not possibly be more different. The joy Tarantino gets from movies, all movies, is his signature trait, while Fincher is famously icy and clinical. I’m not sure how you’d possible merge their distinct visions. But they’re both masters of their craft—every movie they make will forever be An Event—and the idea of watching a David Fincher Cliff Booth movie is downright thrilling.

So, let’s ease the weight on our backs a bit this week by ranking Quentin Tarantino movies. To make sure this isn’t too long, I’ll just do Tarantino movies today. The next time I need a break—and that’ll probably be sooner than I’m expecting—I’ll do Fincher. (Other filmmakers I’d love to do, on weeks like this when we could all use the break: Kelly Reichardt, Alfonso Cuaron, Clint Eastwood, Yorgos Lanthimos, Paul Thomas Anderson, Claire Denis … really anyone Grierson and I haven’t done already. Good for the mental health.)

For now, though: Tarantino. We will not count his entry in 1995’s Four Rooms, “The Man From Hollywood,” but know that I very much love that thing, and that it features one of only two good acting performances from Tarantino himself. (The other is From Dusk Til Dawn, though only barely.)

And here’s a reminder that his book, Cinema Speculation, is an absolutely fantastic book of film criticism. (And I’m not just saying that because we have the same book editor. Though we do!)

10. The Hateful Eight. (2015).
    Pretty easily Tarantino’s worst film, The Hateful Eight feels like a guy spinning his wheels, a movie built as homage but which ends up feeling almost a parody of itself and its filmmaker’s excesses. Tarantino has been willing to go extremes in many of his films, but this is the first (and to my eyes, only) time it veers into downright misanthropy; this is just a nasty little piece of work, one that’s not clever or inventive enough to justify it. For what it’s worth: I have not seen the “extended version” that is on Netflix, the one that is constructed like a television series. Once was enough.

    

9. Kill Bill, Volume Two. (2004).
   I know Tarantino counts the two Kill Bill movies as one—that’s why he says his next movie, which he claims will be his final one, is his “10th”—but that’s not how I saw them: I saw them two years apart like everybody else did, so, sorry, not the same movie. This is the more dialogue heavy, less formally inventive half, anyway, the one that feels less thrilling and wild and daring than the first half. It’s still mostly a blast, though I still can’t help but wonder if Warren Beatty—who Tarantino wrote the part for—would have been a better Bill.

8. Django Unchained (2012).
   This is lower than most people would have this, I suspect, but this has always felt like a less polished, less disciplined version of Inglourious Basterds: A historical epic whose audaciousness feels more stilted and self-conscious. It’s also so cartoonishly violent that it ends up dulling the effect: It’s a movie that nods at seriousness but ends up being skipping away into over-the-top land anytime things might get a little awkward. You can also tell this is the first movie he did after his editor Sally Menke tragically died while hiking through the Hollywood hills; she had a way of keeping his worst instincts in check, and that’s not in evidence here. I also, sorry, have never thought DiCaprio is quite right in this.

7. Kill Bill, Volume One (2003)
Definitely the better half, even if it ends on a cliffhanger (albeit a very good one). The “Showdown at House of Blue Leaves” might be the most purely visceral sequence Tarantino has ever done—he filmed it in black and white to make sure the film didn’t get an NC-17 for violence, and it turned out making the sequence hit even harder—and the fight between The Bride and Vernita Green, interrupted by Vernita’s daughter getting off her school bus in front of her house, is a masterpiece of tonal control and dark humor. If you’ll excuse me, actually, I’m going to go watch the Showdown at House of Blue Leaves again, you should watch it with me.

I love the closeup of The Bride’s eyes as she assesses the situation. A perfect bit where we are both watching the scene, and inside it. Sorry, gonna go watch it again.

6. Death Proof (2007).
This is probably higher than most have it, but as skeptical I am of the Robert Rodriguez half of Grindhouse, this thing rocks. Seeing this in a movie theater for the first time, realizing, oh shit, he can do this too, was downright electrifying. The buildup may take a little too long, but the payoff is well, well worth it. The movie also works as a glorious love letter to car chases and practical effects, as a reminder of their power as they quickly vanish in a world of hacky CGI. Also: the scene when Stuntman Mike realizes he’s bested is pretty wonderful: Kurt Russell goes from Big Bad Man to Pathetic Weasel in the best possible way.

5. Reservoir Dogs (1992).
   God, didn’t this movie once make you feel like the coolest motherfucker in the world for even knowing about it? It sure made this high school kid in rural Illinois feel that way. Watching it again a couple of years ago, I maybe wish it interrogated these guys a little bit more—it definitely wants you to find them super cool—but that feels like a 2025 critique, not a 1992 one. And it’s telling how much more Tarantino is able to do here in one location than he does in The Hateful Eight; he’s supposedly working on a stage play right now, and I bet he’s great at it. Also: Very underappreciated Harvey Keitel performance here, he’s the most human, even sad character in this. Also: Remember Steven Wright?

4. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood … (2019)
   Tarantino thinks its his best movie, and I get it: I always think the last book I wrote was my best one. Maybe I’ll get there with this one eventually, but I can certainly understand why he feels that way: It feels, perhaps more than any other, like the construction of a world that Tarantino would like to live in forever. This is definitely his most mature work, with an undercurrent of sadness that is new to him, and looks good on him. Brad Pitt won the Oscar, and Margot Robbie is pretty wonderful, but I’ll say: I still consider this DiCaprio’s movie? It’s such an odd, impressively ego-free performance, a guy who knows time is passing him by and isn’t sure quite to do about it … but is gonna hang on as long as he can, regardless. It gets dinged a little on this list for essentially borrowing the Inglourious Basterds ending, but, you know, it is an awfully satisfying ending. It is, after all, the most Hollywood of endings.

3. Pulp Fiction (1994).
   I saw this with my son William last year and found myself watching him watch it as much as I found myself watching it. While some parts of it—more than any of Tarantino’s other movies—do feel very “‘90s” now, it is still intoxicating start to finish. It somehow feels as new as it did then, like no one else had made a movie quite like it. (Ironic, considering how many films and filmmakers desperately tried to be like Pulp Fiction afterward.) I do think there are a few sections that drag a little bit—I remain, more than 30 years later, skeptical of the Esmarelda Villalobos and Fabianne segments—but the inventiveness, and the pure joy of filmmaking, are as breathtaking as they were when I saw at the old Co-Ed theater on the Illinois campus all those years ago. My son, as I watched, was just as rapt as I was.

2. Jackie Brown (1997).
   Tarantino’s career has, obviously, turned out just fine, but I’ll always wonder if Jackie Brown’s (relative) box office underperformance steered him away from a path that might have been incredibly fruitful for him: Making exciting, but definitively adult, movies about adults—smart, flawed, complex people who try to claw themselves out of situations they stumbled themselves into. This is the most patient of Tarantino’s movies, willing to let scenes unfold at their own pace, building their own rhythm and music, until all that tension is released in the most satisfying fashion. Just about everything in this movie is perfect—Bridget Fonda was never, ever this wonderful, before or after, and it features a precise, extremely focused (and very funny) Robert DeNiro performance—but I have to tell you: If you are looking for the paradigm of masculinity, real masculinity, intelligent, logical, responsible, compassionate but tough masculinity, America, you need to let Max Cherry be your guide.

I actually think, on top of everything else … this is a pretty great romance too? What a freaking movie.

1. Inglourious Basterds (2009).
Not everything in this movie works. (Looking at you, Eli Roth.) You could make the argument that the Basterds themselves are the least interesting part of the movie. But man, what freaking cojones it takes to even think about making this movie, let alone to execute it so magnificently. Tarantino is one of those special filmmakers capable of reaching heights that no one else can, blessed with the sort of mad genius that can veer into folly if not channeled correctly but can soar into the stratosphere when everything clicks. I mean, my god, the Fassbender scene is one of the most taut, agonizingly tense scenes I’ve ever seen … and it’s maybe the fourth or fifth best scene in the movie? I just cannot believe what Tarantino pulls off in this movie.

And, I will say this: Every year we live in, well, all this makes me appreciate this movie—and how satisfying its sense of justice truly is—that much more. We’ve gotta make sure, when this is all over, that we give these guys something they can’t take off.

So, yeah: I agree with Lt. Aldo Raine:

I think this might just be his masterpiece.

(Thank you for letting me do this this week. I needed it.)

Here is a numerical breakdown of all the things I wrote this week, in order of what I believe to be their quality.

1. The Oldest Players in Baseball, MLB.com. The annual chestnut that reminds you just how old you are.

2. The Dodgers Don’t Need to Win That Many Games, MLB.com. So they probably shouldn’t try?

3. Hey, What’s the Deal With Those Bats? New York. It’s no big deal, promise.

4. Teams That Need a Hot Start Badly, MLB.com. The Blue Jays are the platonic ideal here.

PODCASTS

Grierson & Leitch, we discussed “Death of a Unicorn,” “A Working Man” and “Enemy of the State.”

Morning Lineup, I did Friday’s show.

Seeing Red, Bernie Miklasz and I enjoyed three wins in a row.

HOW CAN I HELP?

As established, we’re compiling the stories of individual people who are trying to find ways to make the world a little bit better in whatever fashion they can, no matter how small. Send yours to howcanonepersonhelp@gmail.com. Today’s comes from Russ Robinson.

We have a couple of older unmarried gentlemen who go to our church. They have no children or relatives in the area who look after them. I try to contact them each from time to time to see how they are doing. The women in our church seem to take care of the women in the same situation, but I believe no one was checking on these two men. It's a small thing, but I feel there are people who fall through the cracks in our society who need just a little attention.

Second, I'm a fervent anti-MAGA/Trump voter. However, I live in a red part of a Red State where these folks are in the majority. As upset as I am with the current political situation, I prefer not to engage these people on politics. But starting with the lead up to the last election, if they ask about my views on Trump, I try to patiently explain to them why I'm opposed. At the same time, I also try to listen to their views and why the support Trump. Not many want to listen, but some have. Not sure I've changed anyone's mind, but maybe it's a start.

Not much, but there you are.

Please keep these coming. We need more—in this newsletter, and everywhere. Send to: Please send me yours.

LONG STORY YOU SHOULD READ THIS MORNING … OF THE WEEK

“Trump Has Already Botched His Own Bad Tariff Plan,” Jonathan Chait, The Atlantic. There’s so much great writing about the deranged madness of these tariffs, but I appreciate that Chait keeps it concise.

Donald Trump had a plan. It was not a good plan, or even a plausible one. But it was, at least, a coherent plan: By imposing large trade barriers on the entire world, he would create an incentive for American business to manufacture and grow all the goods the country previously imported.

Whatever chance this plan had to succeed is already over.

Madness.

ONGOING LETTER-WRITING PROJECT!

This is your reminder that if you write me a letter and put it in the mail, I will respond to it with a letter of my own, and send that letter right to you! It really happens! Hundreds of satisfied customers!

Write me at:

Will Leitch
P.O. Box 48
Athens GA 30603

CURRENTLY LISTENING TO

“In Like the Rose,” Black Rebel Motorcycle Club. There are a lot of bands on my playlist who are touring this summer. Just saying.

Remember to listen to The Official Will Leitch Newsletter Spotify Playlist, featuring every song ever mentioned in this section. Let this drive your listening, not the algorithm!

Also, there is an Official The Time Has Come Spotify Playlist.

Also, currently working on a Lloyd McNeil’s Last Ride Playlist.

Shoutout, by the way, to Real Storm’s Wynn Leitch, who, if Florida beats Duke in the men’s national championship game, is going to win the 2,088-people strong The Will Leitch Newsletter bracket. Seriously.

Way to go, Wynn Dog.

Have a great weekend, all.


Best,
Will