My wife and I were planning on taking a trip to the cinema this weekend, to see The Hateful Eight, the latest Quentin Tarantino movie.

We began to sketch out plans for babysitters and eating early and all the things that need to be taken into account when a married couple with children try to do something that a couple on a third or fourth date do without a care.

All plans were put on a possibly permanent halt, however, when I got as far as the online ticket purchase screen. This tense tale of eight strangers trapped in a cabin by a blizzard clocks in at 187 minutes.

Three hours, seven minutes.

Factoring in the trip to the cinema (about a half an hour), queuing for snacks, sitting through trailers and then driving home, we would be out of the house for nearly five hours, which is roughly the same amount of time one needs to fly to Turkey.

Five hours is a long time to spend doing anything, but looking at the plot of The Hateful Eight, it seems a hell of a long time to spend in the company of eight individuals who are, going by the title, a dislikable bunch.

I've failed to see anything in promotional materials for The Hateful Eight that suggests it requires almost twice the running time of his debut effort Reservoir Dogs, which clocked in at 99 breathless, genre-defining minutes.

Over indulgent? Moi?

In fact, if you were to take a look at the duration of his last few movies (Inglourious Basterds, 153 minutes; Django Unchained, 165minutes), you'll see that Tarantino has allowed his pen to wander in a fashion that some might call over-indulgent. Taking three hours to tell a story isn't a show of skill, it's a show of narcissism. Watching a three-hour movie isn't a test of attention span; it's a test of patience.

But it’s not just Tarantino; I might want to see the latest comedy- buddy-robot- explosion-sci-fi extravaganza, but I can’t justify the Shackleton- esque expedition required.

Summer blockbusters, once the definition of zippy, rollercoaster-ride pieces of entertainment, have swelled to ungainly proportions in recent years.

Visual noise merchant Marvel seems incapable of releasing a movie about people punching things that comes in at less than two hours, and even comedies have deemed it necessary to cross the 120-minute mark (the interminable 2009 Funny People saw fit to give the cinema-going public 146 minutes of Adam Sandler, 144 minutes more than is actually safe at any given time).

Long running times conflict with the goals of both cinema chains and studios: you want to get the audience in, get their money, and get them out again. The difference between a 100-minute movie and a 135-minute movie could be the difference between four screenings a day and five.

Perhaps the recent rise in ticket prices (I hate to be that guy, but when I went to see The Matrix it cost me a fiver) led studios to believe that they should give audiences more value for money, more bang for their buck. Not better stories, or new ideas; just more. Instead of seeing one city crumble to the ground, show two. If a fight scene between the alien overlord and the wisecracking commando was supposed to last for four minutes, make it last for nine.

Before you know it, you’ve got a movie about team A beating up team B that somehow lasts longer than a Bruce Springsteen concert.

Bitesize boxsets

So, where should the time-poor among us turn to, in an attempt to watch an engaging, well-scripted piece of entertainment that doesn’t require us to kiss our children goodbye in the knowledge that they’ll be adults by the time we get home?

TV boxsets have become a godsend to anyone who wants to enjoy a good story without having to put in for holidays from work. With most "hour-longs" such as The Walking Dead or Breaking Bad clocking in at 45 minutes, viewers have the option to watch another one if they want.

Those who go to see The Hateful Eight, meanwhile, may worry that they'll never catch up on all the time they'll miss away from their families.

In the time it would take me to go see 2 Hate 2 Eightful at the weekend, I could watch half the available episodes of this Making A Murderer show that nobody will shut up about.

Watching a TV series also allows you greater social interaction with others, as you strike up each morning at the tea machine and see “how far along” everybody is, debating the plot points of last night’s episode, while looking forward to watching another few episodes tonight.

Compare that with the conversation you had with your co-worker the morning after you went to see Spectre, when you admitted that it was alright but you don't really remember that much about it because it dragged on for what seemed like a fortnight.

This weekend, I think I might settle instead for a few episodes of Better Call Saul. I'll hold off on The Hateful Eight until it shows up on DVD, or on Netflix, and I'm sure I'll enjoy watching it. And by that I mean I'm sure I'll enjoy watching it, over the course of two or three nights, and I'm sure I'll still have feelings in my legs when I'm finished.