Noah Thompson’s review published on Letterboxd:
Attention pussy shoppers!
Quentin Tarantino as a writer/director: Y e s.
Quentin Tarantino as an actor: N O.
There's something that seems magical about the combination of Robert Rodriguez and Quentin Tarantino. They feel like brothers from different mothers. Both a flair for the hyperviolent and morbidly funny. (One also happens to be a children's filmmaker.) From Dusk Till Dawn, when it's on, is a very fun and very gory tribute to the special effects grindhouse bonanzas that both filmmakers seem to have breathed and bled since children. The effects themselves are incredible, and some of the creative kills that are on display in the latter parts of the film are going to stick in my mind for a while. Trust me, when you get to the Titty Twister, this becomes a notably entertaining feature. You just have to get there first. Before that, you have to deal with a big problem that has two names: Richard Gecko/Quentin Tarantino. It's not that often I come across a movie where all it takes is one terrible character/performance to derail it, but holy hell, this comes close. I am glad Quentin eventually stopped trying to make himself as an actor happen because, goddamn, he is fucking awful and there is no use sugarcoating that. A shitty character I could care less about being brought even further down by a performance that is somehow even worse. Can't forget about the feet. Never forget about the feet. As a viewer, if you are able to move past this very notable blemish, this is something I came to enjoy. George Clooney has never looked hotter, I loved everything about Tom Savini's character, we even get a little nice arc of a man re-discovering his faith through a character played by Harvey Keitel. (Happy Easter, everyone.) If I can be outside of the theater for like the first act or so, I would kind of love to see this on the big screen with a midnight audience. One of those kinds of features. Pussy, crosses, creatures of the night. That's what's in Mexico.