As only an ameteur Tarantino follower, “The Hateful Eight” surprised my expectations when I sat in the back theater of the Westshore AMC, where mostly such masterpieces as “The Lazarus Effect” and “Krampus” existed in empty sorrow without any sizable audience. Yet, the small theater was filled to capacity; in fact, a few local celebrities even made it in as the opening previews whisked their way onto the screen.

For the first time in a long while, I found myself enjoying and getting genuinely excited during previews at that small theater. Just to drop a few titles, “Hail, Caesar!” with George Clooney and Jonah Hill certainly seems to possess all the star power for a blockbuster, while “The Brothers Grimsby” made more than a few laugh voraciously as it ran. But Tarantino’s eighth film had enticed us all that Sunday afternoon, and so the shot of Chapter One flashed on white font against a black background rabbled up anxious murmurs as it finally had begun.

Never before had snow appeared so elegant, so crisp; the 70mm made a coat a visual wonder: a barn, a rugged, yet stylish harbor for cold horses. Also, across the spectrum, blood and gore appeared as clear and realistic as ever. There was plenty of it.

Plot synopsis itself could take an eternity, so a condensed, extremely simplistic version is as follows: a bounty hunter known as “The Hangman” (Kurt Russell) has caught and is transporting a wanted criminal (Jennifer Leigh) to her hanging in a town known as Red Rock, Wyoming, and encounters another bounty hunter (Samuel Jackson) and a random wanderer (Michael Madsen), who he picks up, ending up at a lodge known as Mary’s Haberdashery. They encounter four men, and together they talk surprisingly a lot of politics and intense philosophical debates- anything else would spoil it all. For the bloodthirsty and eager viewer, it is a long wait for any action– runtime goes at 187 minutes, of which maybe 30 can be defined as Tarantino obscene and ridiculous violence.

Luckily, the remaining minutes are filled with zingers and witty lines from Jackson’s character, attracting tons of yucks from my crowd. Tarantino, however, seems bent on tackling complex social and racial attitudes of a time directly after the Civil War- even before Lincoln’s assassination. One of the members of the cabin at the time is a former Confederate general; Jackson’s character is a former Major for the Union; and Madsen’s a son of a renegade leader of a post war militia in South Carolina. Talk of about coincidences, considering they all end up in a snowed in lodge in Wyoming, all with a passing knowledge of each other. But I digress…

Wilding entertaining, sometimes shock-inducing twists and tons of curse-filled sarcastic dialogue all was expected, and it was met. The concept of the murder-mystery appears to be less popular today in the world of film, at least. I would argue that such films are the greatest genre of any. It quenches the thirst for violence, thrill and awe inducing shock, while incorporating richly complex characters that each characterize themselves in a variety of fashions, when done correctly.

While loud, obscene and gory, “The Hateful Eight” provided a genuinely entertaining three hours, with witty characters and plenty of plot twists and accusations to go around that haberdashery. Tarantino again impressed, already with a Golden Globe for his most recent work. Hopefully, more glamourous 70mm films will awe and excite even the most critical of viewers.Benn