The Hateful Eight, Quentin Tarantino’s eight film, is a Western done the only way the maestro knows how to. It’s chock full of gorgeous scenery, killer mustaches, lengthy dialogue, and some of the most brutal gun violence I’ve seen recently. In fact, the nearly three-hour film just might be the most brutal and gory of Tarantino’s filmography, to date.

In the dead of a mean Wyoming winter, a bounty hunter named John Ruth (Kurt Russell) is transporting his prisoner Daisy Domergue (Jennifer Jason Leigh) to Red Rock. She’s a murderous savage set to be hanged and there’s a pretty penny out for her head – $10,000. Caught in the middle of a blizzard, the two travelers pick up Major Marquis Warren (another infamous bounty hunter played by Samuel L. Jackson) and Chris Mannix, a man who claims to be Red Rock’s new sheriff (Walton Goggins). Due to an incoming blizzard, the gang finds shelter in a cabin unknowingly inhabited by a collection of nefarious characters. Hilarity ensues! Just kidding…you can probably guess what’s in store for these psycho- and sociopaths when they’re snowed in together for days straight. What follows is nothing short of a bloodbath.

The cast is a powerful one. Along with the aforementioned, this veteran troupe is rounded out by Tim Roth, Michael Madsen, Bruce Dern, Zoe Bell, and more, and it’s as self-indulgent as you’d expect out of the director. Your preexisting feelings about QT will indicate whether or not his indulgence bothers or titilates you, but with acting this powerful, the film’s strong points are impossible to ignore.

Its strengths and weaknesses, however, lie in its setting. Most of the movie’s lengthy run takes place in one single cabin: Minnie’s Haberdashery, a lodge for stagecoach passersby. As with every Tarantino flick, the characters are witty, cocky and well-defined, with dynamo accents and costumes to boot. In a similar veil to Reservoir Dogs, the characters primarily interact with each other inside the one setting, the haberdashery, giving off a very theatrical feel, with the foreground and background operating independently and simultaneously. Despite the single setting, there’s a lot to take in, but considering the film’s length, your attention span will either work for or against you.

The movie is rather delicious when it’s not making you gag from all the blown out brains flying left and right. The last 45 minutes are some of the most brutal and bloodiest of the director’s entire catalogue. (For some reason, it did feel ultra-violent, or maybe the violence just had a stronger effect. Is this because of the gun issue’s pervasiveness in the media, or the rampant shootings that are taking place in our country week to week? It’s hard to say why I felt more affected by it, but you won’t find this reviewer condemning fiction or getting all political about it.)

Goggins and newcomer Jason Leigh deserve the highest praise here. Goggins fits into Tarantino’s mold like a glove, offering an insanely good performance that is both wildly zany and comical at times, but no less dedicated or captivating than any of his counterparts. But its Jennifer Jason Leigh who truly delivers standout performance among these vets. Despite being chained to her captor for most of the film, she cackles, shrieks and taunts her adversaries as she’s punched in the face, thrown from a carriage and beaten on the ground. She’s bloodied and bruised, but Daisy’s resolve never fades, nor does the violence against her ever relent. Jason Leigh not only stands her own in a room full of Russells, Jacksons, and Roths, but she shines, eventually proving that Daisy is truly the most despicable of them all. A perfect casting choice.

Though I can’t say The Hateful Eight broke my Top 3 Tarantino list (Kill Bill, Death Proof, Pulp Fiction, in that order, FYI), I’m a sucker for Tarantino’s style and vision. Though this particular movie has less visual flair than usual, his take on the Western is an intriguing one bolstered by his characters’ hidden agendas, abominable crimes, past and present, and the group’s collected wariness and paranoia. It’s a subtly winding screw that starts tearing everything and everyone apart, leading to many empty shotgun shells and brains. (Did I mention the brains yet!?)

To love The Hateful Eight, one must have patience (it’s the simmering, slow-burn type), an appreciation for prolonged dialogue, and a love for the craft of acting. It may not be for everyone, but then again, these elements are classic Tarantino. Love him or hate him, he’s just doing his thing.

Grade: B