Rolling in at a mammoth three hours and seven minutes, the aptly titled The Hateful Eight is a film that in many ways will divide audiences. Those that love Quentin Tarantino’s style of film-making; the long build ups, exaggerated sword plays of dialogue and immediate violence, the no expense spared approach to making scenes look and feel authentic will no doubt rejoice here. But for those who were perhaps looking for a quick fix of action seen in examples such as Django Unchained and the Kill Bill series are likely to be disappointed or lack the endurance to see this film through to the end. It follows then that this film can be seen as a blessing and a shame in equal measure.

Shot in Ultra Panavision 70 which is apparently super widescreen, a long, and I mean long intro follows a horse and carriage through what must be a the bleakest snow storm. Yes, it is almost ten minutes before we actually get any dialogue. Only Tarantino could do that and not break a sweat. But when people do start speaking its then that you appreciate the depth and texture that he places within his characters.

John Ruth (Kurt Russell) is a bounty hunter carrying his charge Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh) to a town called Red Rock. He never fails to bring his quarry in alive rather than dead so that they can be hanged by the state. Before long he is joined by Major Marquis Warren (played by an incredibly on form Samuel L Jackson) who after some convincing is permitted to share the stagecoach to Red Rock. They are soon after joined by Chris Mannix (Walton Goggins); allegedly Red Rock’s new sheriff, who makes it clear that in return for riding on the stage-coach he’ll ensure that justice will be done on arrival.

The worsening storm forces them to break their journey at Minnie’s; an isolated shop that they intend to use as a stop-over point and it’s here that four more faces join the crowd, potentially all eager for a share of the bounty that is on Daisy Domergue’s head. They are Sanford Smithers (Bruce Dern), an old Confederate general, Joe Gage (Michael Madsen), a taciturn cattle-hand, Oswaldo Mobray (Tim Roth), a flamboyant hangman, and Bob (Demián Bichir), the shop’s temporary Mexican caretaker. Minnie herself however is nowhere to be seen. This sets the scene for a set-up where no one can be trusted and anything can happen.

It’s here where the dialogue goes into overdrive and Tarantino really goes to work building and creating tension. However, it has to be said that it is a shame that it is such a slow build up; a growing crescendo which perhaps would have fared better if the characters had redeeming qualities. The reality is I found I could find little empathy with any one of the characters, they all had behaviours which I found distasteful, but perhaps that is the whole point. The second act plays out almost like an Agatha Christie novel; largely a quest to find out who is behind it all. The characters try and suss each other out. Flashbacks occur; who was where and when this or that happened and people try to talk their way out of being in the guilty frame.

What embellishes this is the fine cast. Very rarely do you find films where every actor shines. The only one I can think of right now where that occurred recently was in The Wolf of Wall Street and again it was because the director was very credible so the cast gave it their all. Here it is the same. They all implicitly trust Quentin so they hit their roles with vigour, the end result is stunning, at times riveting and in so many ways simply wonderful.

Personally, I am not a fan of long films. My friends were divided in equal measure between loving and hating this film. However, it has to be said from Tarantino this film seems intimate, like a personal project he really deliberated, stressed over, savoured and desired to share with his fans. The end result is something only he could realistically pull off at such quality and regardless of whether you love it or hate it you have to admit it’s a fine piece of work.