It was really slow to begin with, and I wasn't really feeling the setting and dialogue. It didn't help that my dad pointed out the goof he'd read in the newspapers about the stagecoach moving through the snow: it wouldn't have been able to get through without them running a snowplow ahead of the stagecoach. And once you see those snowplow tracks, it kind of ruins the illusion.
However, it did start to heat up about half way in, and I enjoyed the parts where Samuel L. Jackson's character became a sort of Poirot figure and the film transformed into a Western Agatha Christie. But, at the same time, I wasn't such a fan of all the racial hatred bubbling away in the plot. At times it was just too much, and too depressing. My overall impression of the film was that Tarantino can do, and has done, much better than this.
I'm gonna give it a hateful 6/10
