(Trigger warning for mentions of assault.)

I know Quentin Tarantino is a stubborn, puff-chested dude who would probably rebuke the notion that his first film after Harvey Weinstein’s takedown needed to be, in some way, a statement on those events, given the director’s place as one of the main beneficiaries of the Weinstein empire era. He may insist it’s just a sepia character study of an aging actor and his aging pal. But that doesn’t stop me from considering the…