The Hateful Eight is Quentin Tarantino’s most indulgent film yet. Depending on how you feel about his past films and idiosyncrasies, such a statement can be read as either a strict warning or a raving endorsement. Personally, I really like Tarantino’s voice as a writer and his distinct directorial footprint. Despite jumping between genres with almost every picture, his presence is always notable in every aspect of his films, from the writing, to the performances, to the staging, cinematography, and even soundtrack. So if his indulgences are the key to making his films unique and enjoyable, The Hateful Eight should be a sure-fire success in my eyes.

And yet, Tarantino’s inclinations and his willingness to fly by the seat of his pants do get in the way of The Hateful Eight at times. There is A LOT of content in this film that, at 2 hours and 47 minutes, probably could have been trimmed down or cut altogether. Lots of plot and character backgrounds get repeated in different conversations throughout the movie, subplots are included with no bearing on the central conflict, and an entire chapter of the film is ultimately insignificant because the same information is passed on in a few lines of dialogue in the next chapter. Hell, an entire character exists solely because Quentin Tarantino had a killer monologue that he wanted Samuel L Jackson to deliver that necessitated his presence.

The thing is, most of these elements ARE enjoyable on their own. The aforementioned monologue makes for a great scene, the “unnecessary” chapter has great performances from characters who are otherwise minor or completely absent, and even the repetitive dialogue is skillfully written and entertaining. And frankly, Tarantino is known to fill his movies with subplots and tangents. Inglourious Basterds is full of diversions and drawn-out sequences, and Pulp Fiction is practically nothing BUT subplots. So why is it a bit of a problem with one film, and not the others?

The simplest answer is “genre,” or more specifically, “purpose.” Like I stated Pulp Fiction is a collection of short stories that are set in the same world, featuring shared characters, and tied together thematically. Inglourious Basterds is a bit trickier to explain, with a central revenge arc that ties everything together, but it’s clearly structured as something larger. Every other chapter is devoted to characters other than Shoshanna, letting the film “feature” the titular basterds for a while, or sit down and focus on a great tavern sequence.

The Hateful Eight, though, is not a sprawling film. It’s very confined, featuring only a stagecoach and a haberdashery for locations, and plays out a bit like a Western take on Tarantino’s own Reservoir Dogs. And once the film becomes a murder mystery in its second half, it leaves even less room for meandering and expanding. Yet it continues to take any opportunity to give in to the whims of its creator, with little regard for the film’s structure as a whole.

So, The Hateful Eight is not one of Tarantino’s more successful films. But it’s also not in the least bit boring. A significant portion of the movie is literally just characters having conversations in a stage coach, and it’s terrific. Once the plot gets moving, the set pieces are brilliantly composed and suspenseful, and it’s as darkly hilarious as his best work. It’s full of wonderful performances, too, with Samuel L Jackson and Walton Goggins shining especially bright. As a collection of scenes, you can hardly do better. But as a complete film, meant to hang together and tell a concise story, it doesn’t work as intended.

One last short note: I saw the “roadshow” version of The Hateful Eight, in 70mm. If it’s still available in this format, I would recommend it. Aside from the wide aspect ratio of 70mm, which is nice but not as significant as one might hope, the film is also presented with a 3 minute “overture” by Ennio Morricone and with a 12 minute “intermission” between chapters 3 and 4. It’s a great old-fashioned time at the theaters, and you get a cool “program” booklet as a free souvenir.