Quentin Tarantino touches himself excitedly while directing this eye-rolling self-congratulatory waste of almost three hours.
Poor Andrew Yong, he’s going to be so traumatized after this second encounter with the titular character.
It makes fun of the previous movie and goes all out dumb. Credit given for effort, I guess.
Yeech. Yeah, don’t bother.
This is a pleasant surprise: it’s both emotional and suspenseful in a tiny little indie package.