'Once Upon A Time ... In Hollywood (2019)' is disappointing. Frankly, it's just not very good. It not only lacks substance, it lacks style. The story meanders, the characters don't change, the plot-lines don't gel and the entire thing just feels like a bit of a wasted opportunity. It doesn't seem to be about anything, really. It's as if Tarantino decided to set a film in Hollywood in the 60s, then started writing and just didn't stop until he'd ran out of paper. Don't get me wrong, the filmmaking is on relatively fine form; the camera-work is assured, the cinematography is clean, the set-design and costuming are cohesive and the performances are all pretty much perfect. It's just the storytelling that's subpar. Rather than showing any real reverence for the period, the piece appears to despise it - or, at least, have no respect for it. I mean, you just have to look at the much-discussed Bruce Lee scene to see that (seriously, what's his problem with Bruce Lee?). This would be a strange stance for any cinephile to take, let alone perhaps pop-culture's most renowned cinephile, and it does make you wonder why Tarantino even bothered to dip into the cinematic history that he has so often aped. It's not even as if it's some sort of satire, which could have had the potential to work. Instead, it honestly comes across as fodder to feed an ego; most of the time, it's either like we're directly being given a history lesson or indirectly being told what would have happened if the writer-director was around back then. The alternate-history angle is perhaps the most intriguing thing about the entire enterprise, but it's mostly squandered on childish caricatures or tired machoism. In either case, it's inconsequential outside of enabling the two core characters to exist in a more-or-less recognisable 'real world'. The biggest changes don't hold any proper 'what if' weight because their aftermath is never explored and the characters they most keenly affect aren't really characters at all. This sadly includes Sharon Tate. It's bizarre that a story which apparently started with the intent of exploring and celebrating her very real life instead ended up focusing on two entirely made-up men. Tate gets no real agency and has a limited role, mainly serving to remind the audience of the odd fact/fiction dynamic and the looming Manson threat. While I'm on the subject and without spoiling anything, it's safe to say that the picture ends in quite a bit of bloodshed - if not in the way you expect. It's arguably Tarantino's most violent - or, I suppose, 'sadistic' - piece, mainly because of its apparent realism and accompanying brutality. The thing is that it's just so unnecessary and unnecessarily gratuitous, actually feeling unjustified in its near-glamorisation. There's this uncomfortable sense of 'revenge', I guess. I'm not one to squirm at on-screen violence, either - I haven't flinched at any of Tarantino's previous efforts, for example. The strange thing is that the flick also makes a point of getting involved with the age-old 'movie violence vs real violence' debate, depicting its 'real violence' as much more disturbing than its 'movie violence' but also going out of its way to have a few characters name 'movie violence' as the inspiration for their attempts at 'real violence'. The messaging is mixed, to say the least, and will do the filmmaker no favours when it comes to journalists poking at his stance on the matter. At least, I suppose, there's an awareness of theme in this aspect, however unhelpful its conclusion may be. The rest of the picture doesn't seem to have any semblance of this, settling instead for a scene-by-scene sort of thing that never really comes together. In a way, there's a plot but there's not a narrative (loosely speaking). Some of it is quite entertaining, to be fair. It's not exactly boring but it's not exactly engaging, either. The best stuff involves Dalton shooting a guest-spot on a western TV show; these scenes are fairly enjoyable, bring out the best in DiCaprio and feature a 'film within a film' that's probably more fun than the film itself. The sequences with Booth just feel like an extended B-plot, with no real drive behind them. The feature eventually gives up and skips forward a huge chunk of time, opting to use narrated exposition to fill in the gap and then over-explain a faster-paced final third. Interestingly, the stuff that is skipped appears as if it could have made for a more-than-decent story that actively changes the core characters. The final movement moves faster but it isn't any more compelling. Plus, by the time you get there, you've not got the energy to care. Overall, the picture is unfocused and unimpressive. It has its merits, of course, and the performances really are top-notch. However, it's not particularly entertaining and it's actually rather predictable. It's quite problematic, too; it has an undercurrent of unpunished, hero-perpetrated violence against women, for example. 5/10