It's admirable, Quentin Tarantino's continued advocacy of film. The actual stuff. As opposed to the digital format which the film industry has pretty well crammed down the throats of moviegoers and any theater hoping to get by. It's slightly less admirable, the amount of celluloid that Tarantino is expending these days, his stories that are being pressed into that precious film stock. The director's laudable resuscitation of careers given up for dead by Hollywood also continues to his credit. Such is the case, to varying degrees, with Kurt Russell, Michael Madsen (the old charisma nearly extinguished) and Jennifer Jason Leigh in the writer/director's latest, Hateful Eight. Alas, most of Hateful Eight transpires with Ms. Jason Leigh getting more punches (or bowls of stew) to the face than sentences to utter, made to lay about black-eyed and bloodied while the boys in the cast trade the auteur's curiously lifeless dialog, a lot o...