Today we share the second of six pieces of public writing selected for publication from an assignment in ENGL 801 “Graduate Studies in English”: a piece of public scholarship (700-1,000 words) which tailors an academic paper and its scholarly intervention of 10-12 pages for a general-interest audience.
Read more about the assignment and the first publication, “Mina Harker is More Than Just a Love Interest” by Destiny Munns (MA ’25), in last Thursday’s post. Now, on to “Resting in Peace: Why Once Upon a Time in Hollywood Keeps Sharon Tate Away from the Action” by Mike McCoy (MA ’25)!
— Karin Westman, Professor and Department Head / Instructor for ENGL 801 ZA (Fall 2023)
INTERIOR – 10050 CIELO DRIVE – NIGHT
SHARON TATE, dressed in military fatigues and smoking a Red Apple cigarette, wields a 10” Buck knife that drips sticky crimson all over her living room’s avocado green shag carpet. The petite, 5’6” actress towers over the bloodied, battered bodies of two MANSON FAMILY CULT MEMBERS who plead with her for mercy.
CULT MEMBER #1
Please, lady, just let us go! We didn’t even want to come here! It was all Charlie’s idea…Charlie Manson! He put us up to it! He’s the devil! He’s the one you want!
SHARON
HE may be the devil, baby. But tonight, I’M the one who’s here to do the devil’s business!
SHARON lets out a war cry as she repeatedly plunges her Buck knife into CULT MEMBER #1’s chest. SHARON then turns to face CULT MEMBER #2, who cowers in terror.
SHARON
I want you to deliver a message to Charlie. And the memo is…he’s just led his piggies to slaughter!
SHARON crouches, wipes some blood from the knife blade with her fingertip, and draws the letters “P-I-G” on CULT MEMBER #2’s forehead. Then, SHARON stands, walks straight toward the camera, and dramatically flicks her cigarette away as The Beatles’ “Helter Skelter” plays us out.
FADE TO BLACK
If the above scene from Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019) seems crass, exploitative, and altogether inconsistent with the film’s final cut, there’s a good reason: It’s fake.
I wrote this scene to illustrate how Hollywood could have gone very wrong if it had followed the typical Quentin Tarantino revenge formula. You know the drill: An innocent victim turns into a badass vigilante who hunts down their tormentor and demands a pound of flesh (along with several gallons of blood). With evil vanquished, the vigilante rides off into the sunset as a vintage pop song plays. Roll credits. Collect box office receipts. The formula works great for fictional characters and scenarios set against real-world tragedies.
However, Sharon Tate is a real person. She doesn’t need revenge. What she needs—and what Hollywood gives her—is peace. Tate deserves to live in peace and enjoy all the little moments fate stole from her. That’s what Tarantino understands, and that’s why Tate doesn’t participate in the film’s violent action.
When Hollywood premiered, some critics accused Tarantino of exploiting Tate’s murder. These critics also questioned Tate’s lack of character agency (AKA a character’s ability to affect the story). In the New York Times article, “Are Women Just Another Tarantino Prop?” (2019), Aisha Harris said, “It can [be] argued that the film’s twist does a disservice to Tate’s legacy by not affording her the opportunity to defend herself and ultimately win against her attackers” (C1[L]). Adrienne Westenfeld of Esquire argued that “Tarantino [did] Tate a disservice in underwriting…her,” concluding that Hollywood disrespected Tate by sidelining the actress and “[reducing her] to a…bit player in her own story.” This critical view continues today. In her recent book, The American Historical Imaginary: Contested Narratives of the Past (2023), Caroline Guthrie suggests that Hollywood “thwarts the viewer’s desire to imagine a happy ending for [Tate]” and “[refuses] to offer the alternate ending that the spectacularly violent deaths of the Manson family members seem to promise” (124-5).
The critics pose a fair question: Why shouldn’t Tate take down the Manson Family? After all, Hollywood is a revenge fantasy. Tarantino previously released two similarly-themed films: Inglourious Basterds (2009) and Django Unchained (2012). In these historical fantasies, the victims exact bloody revenge against their oppressors. Basterds shows Jewish people violently wiping out the Nazi high command, while Django sees a former slave kill his enslavers and burn their plantation.
So, what makes Tate’s story different from Basterds and Django? Why doesn’t Tate take back her power and slaughter the evil cult members who murdered her in real life?
I argue that critics who ask these questions miss the film’s point. Because Tate died violently, Hollywood’s narrative choices serve a distinct purpose: to let Tate live peacefully. The film purposely separates Tate from the Manson Family’s violence, letting the story’s fictional characters carry out the revenge. Although Tarantino distances Tate from the film’s action, Hollywood honors the actress by giving her life story the happy ending it deserves. The film’s “What-if?” narrative emphasizes Tate’s right to peace—and that’s a story worth telling.
Tarantino’s critics contradict themselves when they simultaneously accuse the filmmaker of exploiting Tate and denying her the agency to kill her would-be murderers (See Harris’ New York Times article “Are Women Just Another Tarantino Prop?” and Westenfeld’s Esquire article “Sharon Tate Never Wanted to Be an Object. That’s Exactly What Happened in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood”). These critics can’t have it both ways. If Tate stylishly dispatched the Manson Family in R-rated fashion, the film would not only be exploitative—it would be regressive. Yes, Tate lacks agency in Hollywood’s revenge narrative. However, this choice respects Tate’s memory. Tarantino distances Tate from the film’s climax for good reason. The Manson Family tainted Tate’s legacy with their disgusting violence. So, Hollywood’s simple fairy tale ideology (good always triumphs over evil) turns history on its head. This alternate history/fairy tale redefines Tate’s legacy and finally allows her to live in peace—free from any association with Charles Manson.
Tarantino makes the right choice by leaving the revenge to fictional characters Rick Dalton and Cliff Booth. The filmmaker doesn’t deny Tate agency in the film’s revenge narrative; he simply lets her be. We see Tate run errands, watch a movie, and entertain friends—routine, slice-of-life activities that people often take for granted. Tarantino demonstrates restraint and respect when he keeps Tate on the story’s periphery and out of harm’s way. For Tarantino, it’s not Tate’s character agency as a revenge hero that matters. It’s her life that matters.
Works Cited
Guthrie, Caroline. “Quentin Tarantino’s Alternate Histories.” The American Historical Imaginary: Contested Narratives of the Past, Rutgers University Press, 2023, pp. 100–125. JSTOR, https://www-jstor-org.er.lib.k-state.edu/. Accessed 16 Oct. 2023.
Harris, Aisha. “Are Women Just Another Tarantino Prop?” New York Times, 8 Aug. 2019, p. C1(L). https://www.gale.com/c/academic-onefile. Accessed 9 Nov. 2023.
Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. Directed by Quentin Tarantino, Sony Pictures, 2019.
Westenfeld, Adrienne. “Sharon Tate Never Wanted to Be an Object. That’s Exactly What Happened in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood.” Esquire, 31 July 2019. https://www.esquire.com/entertainment/movies/a28538449/.
— Mike McCoy (MA ’25)
K-State English 
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