Hey cats, your boy Quentin Tarantino here, okay? Dig this, alright? Dig this. I’ve got a question for you, dig? Alright. What- and I’m honestly curious here- what would ever possess a person to watch a movie on a little bitty Netflix screen when they could watch an original film print in their mansion’s private movie theater?
You don’t have an answer for me, do you. Right? No, of course you don’t. You’re speechless. Speechless. Look at you, you’re like Harpo. Because you don’t have an answer, because there’s not an answer, because there are zero reasons a person should watch a movie on a little bitty Netflix screen when they could watch an original film print in their mansion’s private movie theater.
Netflix is a deeply inferior movie-watching experience, bereft of the film-scratches and sun damage and alchemical magic that transform movies into the art that they were intended to be by their directors, and Eli Roth agrees. Ask him yourself.
Have you even met the RZA, let alone watched a movie in your mansion’s private movie theater alongside him? No, you haven’t, have you. Okay, so this is what I’m telling you, right? So technically, you haven’t even really watched a movie.
Okay cats, dig this, okay? Dig this. This is my impression of Netflix, okay? Here it is. “Beep boop beep boop, I’m killing cinema.” Dig? Because Netflix is killing cinema, yes it is. Okay okay, now this one, dig? Here’s my impression of Spotify, alright? My impression of Spotify. Here I go. “Beep boop beep boop, if Ennio Morricone were dead he’d be spinning in his grave knowing you listen to music on a computer, okay?”
So of course in this case Ennio Morricone is not dead, and will in fact be providing an original score to my latest film The Hateful Eight as a personal favor to me, but if he were dead he would spring forth from the earth like something out of Fulci’s Zombi series to tell you “no”, but you get what I’m saying. I used to work in a video store.
In conclusion, cinema can only really be enjoyed and appreciated from the comfort of your mansion’s private movie theater, and the only thing computers are good for is getting your latest screenplay leaked and looking at pictures of women’s feet. Dig?