Depressing but not in an interesting way. There’s some subtlety to the racial tensions in the first half which is good but it all gets lost in the second half’s endless bellowing. If it’s like a Agatha Christie thing why is there no mystery? Characters all very broad and one note - Goggins and Jackson are both great and have chemistry but Tarantino does a really poor job of narrating their becoming allies, just sort of happens. Roth’s performance is…

I adored the first part, really hit on things I felt growing up - it was painful, but cathartic. The second half… idk. I just wish the film had said “transgender” explicitly, somewhere, but this is firmly an allegory. I found this approach much better suited to depicting the more ineffable dysphoria of childhood, when one’s nascent transness is without context, form or language. It’s then that all we have to point to is Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or anime, or computer…