The Hateful Eight: Got room for one more?

Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained are fucking brilliant, but the Hatefiul Eight is my late Tarantino of choice.

Partly it's because it's the one that returns to the Reservoir Dogs formula of stranding a bunch of excellent character actors in a confined and sweaty place, where extreme violence is literally possible at any moment, then letting them loose on some chewy dialogue.

But it's also because I get to see it at the NZ premiere, and the man himself is there to introduce his new movie to a whole buncha new folks. He's beyond perfect, bounding into the auditorium in a ratty shirt and wild hair, rabbiting on at a million miles a second about bullshit, and just so fucking chuffed that he's getting to show it a whole bunch of new people.

He's so enthused the movie starts half an hour late. Nobody minds.