The issue is what Once Upon a Time in Hollywood culminates to in terms of a message and moral. Certainly, Inglourious Basterds culminates to a message we can all agree on: Nazis fucking suck.
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Who is she?
That’s what Walsh filled the stage with that night, all six foot four of him: he’s a superlative country-rock musician, through and through.
If you’re rich you get fancy candlelit dinners and grand speeches, if you’re poor you get to sing and dance.
Want the quick and dirty? This movie is fantastic. Go see it. Bring your friends. Those of you sticking around are going to get the treat of a one on one cage match between Booksmart and its spiritual predecessor, Superbad (2007).
I’m sitting very comfortably tied for first place in my Thrones mortality pool, although I’m…