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Moving Pictures
Jul 30, 2025, 06:29AM

The Gang’s All Here

The Continuing (!) Adventures of Cliff Booth begins production in Los Angeles.

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It’s true: we’re here, we’re moisturized, I have my coffee, and cameras are rolling. Yes, we made our start date; no, we did not “fuck around” nor did we “find out” what would happen if we dawdled any longer. Well, July 28 has been the official start date for this project for a while, but as you know, we’ve done some preparatory and rehearsal shooting—who knows, maybe elements of that will show up in the film. I assumed that was a guarantee, but Sensei Tarantino had to take me aside and explain Mr. Fincher’s methods.

“David likes to make many, many takes—you know this. But he’s also much more finicky than me.” You mean more precise? “Uh, no. I am EXTREMELY precise. But I allow for mistakes. I allow things to happen. You remember The Hateful Eight?” Uh… yeah. I auditioned for it, dude. You don’t remember?” “No. But on set one day, Kurt Russell had to smash a guitar. Well, that was a real guitar that we rented for the shoot. But it wasn’t some stock bullshit; not even something from the 20th century. This was like… an 1870s guitar.” Okay… you’re boring me now… “Remember when he smashed the guitar? In the movie? Didn’t you see Jennifer Jason Leigh jump up and look at me?” No, sorry. I don’t make a habit of seeing movies that I unsuccessfully auditioned for. But I’ll watch a cam rip later.

“You know, on Django, we had a similar thing: Leo was at the table with Jamie and Christoph, and he smashed a wine glass while he was going on and on about phrenology. Well, he didn’t mean to break that glass; it wasn’t a breakaway. He smashed that motherfucker and kept the scene going while he pulled the pieces from his hand.” Does he expect me to be amused by this? An actor on his set was hurt. “That’s the take you see in the movie. Uh, I’m not sure there’s a moment like that in all of David’s films. And I’m a HUGE fan. I actually think The Killer is a masterpiece. I’ve seen it a dozen times.” Yeah, I know. That's why you sold your script to him to make.

Why are you even here, Sensei? “Well, I’ve gotta make sure David doesn’t fuck up my movie, hahahahahaha!” Why didn’t you just direct it yourself? “I’m concentrating on theater right now. I’m working on a play. ‘A Play by Quentin Tarantino’? I could sell out Broadway for the rest of my life. I’m writing another movie book, too, and I might publish this script, but I might also do another novelization… Hey! Brad!!” And he’s off, talking to his star. Brad waves; I return with my majestic feathers. I’m checking the internet now…

Jordan Ruimy of World of Reel is onto us! “There was always some skepticism surrounding “The Adventures of Cliff Booth,” and understandably so. The idea of David Fincher directing a Tarantino spin-off centered on Brad Pitt’s laid-back stuntman from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood felt like fan fiction.  Even after Fincher’s name was attached and Pitt confirmed his involvement, some refused to buy in. It didn’t help that the film’s existence was first reported on April Fool’s Day, which many took as a clever prank rather than a legitimate announcement.”

Have you ever heard of having fun? We were having fun on April Fool’s Day—I mean, it was my idea… not that anyone remembers…

We’re in the Zenith pawn shop. I can’t tell you what’s inside, but I can tell you (I can’t really tell you) what I’m doing in the scene. I’m being sold…  I am being sold to Brad Pitt in this movie. But we get on. We have fun. We’re friends. It’s lunch now, we’ll be in here for the next three weeks shooting masters and inserts, and we’re already on take 147. That’s okay: my Sensei is happy. He’s not moody or brooding—he won’t stop fucking talking. But that’s okay, I know I’m in good hands. Even if I spent most of my day in a plexiglass display case. “You good for one more, Benny?” That means 10—Mr. Fincher likes to play games with numbers. Am I tired? Yes. Am I unhappy? No. Uncomfortable? YES. But that’s the name of the game: hide your emotions, betray nothing, trust no one. “That’s kind of cynical, Benny.” My Sensei is simply more optimistic than me; I cannot beat his joie de vivre. Cynical, yes, Mr. Tarantino, but true. He nods. He knows I’m a real artist, too. Now it’s time to get back in the case, another attempt at being run over the counter. “Can I help you?” Please, Mr. Pitt—rub my feathers!

—Follow Bennington Quibbits on Twitter: @MonicaQuibbits

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