The residence resides on a hushed, leafy street in Central Los
Angeles. South is the New Beverly movie theatre, which tonight
is playing a bloody double bill of Near Dark and Jennifer’s
Body. North is the Hollywood Walk Of Fame, where two days
earlier Lucy Liu planted her fingers in cement. Both are exciting
places to be. Neither, however, compares to what’s going on
inside this house. It’s fair to say, in fact, that of all the many,
many cool locations in the sprawling mass of LA, this
very ordinary-looking domicile is, in early May 2019,
the absolute coolest.
There are clues. Like the small group of people beavering
away at complicated-looking equipment, mellow music playing
softly in the background. Or the whiteboard crammed with
technical codes (“LFOP”, “KEM CHECK”, “DV40”) relating
to nine reels. Or the antique movie posters on the wall, including
a lurid one-sheet for a 1960s movie called Dark Of The Sun,
boasting Rod Taylor wielding a chainsaw and running towards a
shirtless opponent, plus multiple explosions and the understated
tagline: “A STRIKE FORCE OF CRACK MERCENARIES
FIGHT THE HOTTEST BATTLES IN ALL THE BLAZING
FURY OF TODAY’S STRIFE-TORN CONGO!”
The biggest clue, though, is the man who suddenly slides in
through the rented house’s back door, a big grin on his face, and
shakes Empire by the hand. “Hey, a victim!” Quentin Tarantino
exclaims, loudly, breaking into a hearty cackle. “We haven’t had
anyone here to show what we’re up to that wasn’t involved up to
their ass in the movie. We’ve been looking forward to today.”
Yes, this is Fortress Tarantino. QT HQ. The place where the
iconic writer-director — who happens to own the New Beverly,
and who directed Lucy Liu in Kill Bill — is baking his ninth
and penultimate film. He leads Empire up a set of stairs, to
the nerve-centre of this post-production hub: a small room
where he and editor Fred Raskin (who has taken over duties
as Tarantino’s lead post-production compadre, following the
tragic death of Sally Menke in 2010) have been hunkered down
for months. Along with more movie posters (these ones more
intriguing-looking; more on that later) and a smattering of toys
(an Evil Ash from Army Of Darkness, a Terminator, a Snake
Plissken, a bunch of Hateful Eight funkos), there is a stand on
which is placed a screenplay so enormous it looks like a Bible,
or a Complete Works Of Shakespeare. Fittingly, the front page
bears the legend, “MAGNUM OPUS”. This is the original
manuscript of Once Upon A Time In... Hollywood, the epic that
in this room has been whittled down from four-and-a-half hours
to a little shy of three.
“It’s changed quite a bit,” nods Tarantino. “All my movies
do. Because I write these” — he gestures to the stand, then
to a huge monitor — “and then I have to release that. A lot
has gone, but that’s been the case with all the scripts I’ve
Clockwise from
right: Sharon Tate
(Margot Robbie)
hosts a pool party
at her Cielo Drive
mansion; Tarantino
and Robbie work on
a movie-theatre
scene; Rick Dalton
(Leonardo
DiCaprio) tries to
unwind; Cliff Booth
(Brad Pitt) behind
the wheel.❯