Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood reminded me of the great scene in the novel Wonder Boys where our writer's best student tells him, in unmerciful detail, exactly what's wrong with his bloated kraken of a manuscript.

To wit, Tarantino's title ellipsis covers all manner of sins.

Within 10 minutes, you see plenty of what's wrong with this film: the meandering sets in, with throwaway characters and snippets amidst endless, unremarkable driving. I rolled my eyes.

My gut said 'Leave!' and I should have.

That snippet is a stand-in for the whole film. It's beautifully shot, well acted (Brad Pitt loses himself in Cliff Booth), the mood is struck, the period details are lovingly rendered. None of which adds up to a good or coherent film.

A director can certainly tell a whole story with no plot...there's just little evidence of it in this scattershot mess.

Give Tarantino credit for a perfectly captured moment in time and place. But the constant unspooling of unrelated or 'so what' set pieces never left room to step into his world.

The marketing team did an admirable job selling this, but there were a lot of groans and walk-outs in my showing.

Maybe if you have a specific appetite for late '60s LA/filmmaking you won't resent OUaTiH three hours later.