Quentin Tarantino needs to wake up. It’s early Monday morning at New York’s Langham Hotel, and the Oscar-winning screenwriter and veteran filmmaker is putting together a cup of coffee. He’s also nursing a glass of Coca-Cola. It’s a busy one. Only an hour prior, his ninth film, Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, nabbed five Golden Globe nominations, including Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Screenplay. This isn’t surprising, though. The dreamy drama has been a critical darling since it swept into theaters this past July, and dazzled the box office. If anything, it’s just the beginning.
His competition is stiff. Tarantino is going headfirst into an awards season that includes legendary veterans like Martin Scorsese, foreign visionaries such as Bong Joon-ho, and fellow colleagues in Noah Baumbach and Sam Mendes. Like Tarantino, they’re all campaigning with intensely introspective works, the type of pictures that say more about the filmmaker than the stories on the celluloid. It’s been that kind of year, and should make for an intriguing season as we trudge through the snow in the lead-up to the Oscars, one full of rousing victories, unlikely upsets, and endless chatter.
Right now, though, Tarantino is enjoying the calm amidst the lingering storm. Sure, he’s exhausted — who isn’t at this hour of the week — but he’s hardly fatigued. If we’re being honest, he sounds satisfied. There’s a resolve in his demeanor that’s less Rick Dalton and more Cliff Booth. “It is what it is,” to borrow from Scorsese’s The Irishman, and the “is” ain’t too fucking bad. As he tells me late into our chat, “In a strange way, it seems like this movie, Hollywood, would be my last. So, I’ve kind of taken the pressure off myself to make that last big voilà kind of statement.” He’s not wrong.
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