Oh Boy... Where Do I Start?

Rating: 2/10 (15 December 2019)

Someone said, the more you appreciate cinema as an art, the more you will like this film. I do appreciate cinema as an art, hence why I disliked this film.
Another too-long voyage from the mind of Quentin Tarantino, who blew his remaining talent on Pulp Fiction, yet continues to clog cinemas with his meandering rambling stories that offer very little payoff.
Here I thought he may cleverly weave a story around the Manson murders but was disappointed to see he had the arrogance to attempt to rewrite history. Sure, it would have been great had there been heroes to save Sharon Tate and her friends, but it didn't happen. So why write a two-hour and forty-one minute snorefest to say it did happen.
It was difficult to like either main character in this movie. Leonardo DiCaprio's portrayl of slowly declining actor Rick Dalton was filled with as much overacting, if not more, than he unloaded in Wolf of Wall Street. Brad Pitt's role of loyal Cliff Booth, Dalton's stunt double was about as emotionless as a corpse.
The movie lacked plot points which doesn't give the viewer any indication where the movie is going. Useless scenes that do not advance plot or evolve characters. And Taratino's need to let the world know he has a foot fetish by adding, three (I counted but could have missed others) references to women's feet in your face.
In the end, the main characters were just as flawed as when the movie started hours prior. History was changed instead of supporting an actual creative story.
Tarantino gets marks for directing and sending us on a well-painted, yet useless, journey in 1969.
The only thing that Tarantino did for me is let his history for mundane lengthy epics keep me out of the theatre and save me money by watching it on Demand.