1969
*It’s just a shot away*
I’ve reached the end of the film now. It’s just past sundown
on Altamont Speedway, and nobody seems to remember
what they came for—not the Stones, not the crew,
and definitely not the woman shoved naked
to the lip of the stage or that young girl
shaking with tears, certain she would give it all up,
become a stranger to her life
if she could only reach out and touch Mick—
The drugs have…
I want to live in the timeline where Chloë Sevigny and Kate Beckinsale continued to land roles like this for the rest of their careers.
"You who saw it all, or saw flashes and fragments, take from us this example, try and get yourselves together, clean up your act, find your community, pick up on some kind of redemption of your own consciousness, become more mindful of your own friends, your own work, your own proper meditation, your own proper art, your own beauty. Go out and make it for your own eternity." ~ Allen Ginsberg
More interested in character and world building than narrative formal structure, the first half is a bit of a “slow-burn,” but this pop-corn flick with a heart of gold leads to a totally kickass payoff. The cast is undeniably good top to bottom, but the one who makes the most of the “Tarantino Treatment,” is Pitt. His Cliff Booth is instantly iconic— a bold, beautiful, sun-soaked badass— and a role Pitt was born to deliver.
Couldn’t shake the feeling this would make a great double feature with Inherent Vice.
