Film: Django Unchained

Director: Quentin Tarantino
Genre: Western/ Comedy/ Revenge
Source: USA (2012)
Rating: R
Location/Format: Glynn Place Stadium Cinema
Grade: B-

There are so many things to like about Django Unchained that it's disappointing that its last twenty minutes are a regurgitation of a trick Tarantino pulled--and pulled off better--in Inglorious Basterds. What seemed so surprising and fresh and unexpected then plays as excess, cartoonery, and anachronistic even beyond the levels of the rest of the film. And don't get me started on the usually musically reliable Tarantino's terrible choices in a couple of scenes. Now, I have no doubt that what made me roll my eyes and get annoyed with the film are probably the exact things Tarantino is celebrating--the over-the-topness, the ballet of blood, the absurd cock-sureness that seems to prefer the obliteration of the character of Django in favor of seeing Jamie Foxx be a bad-ass. But as far as the world of the film, it disappointed me. I mean, did we really need to have TWO shootouts in the big plantation house? As with the exploding bodies of the film, it was just needless overkill. Especially when so many other parts of the movie worked so well.

I think I would have been less turned off by the end of the film if I hadn't enjoyed the first two hours and fifteen minutes so much. King Schultz, played by Christopher Waltz, in particular, is so entertaining and enjoyable to watch. He descends on these Southerners like a visitor from the future, perfectly polite, looking down on the ignorance around him (not Django, but the whites who perpetuate slavery) with amusement, always working two steps ahead of everyone else. He is full of heart, and Waltz shines in his portrayal. I would be fine if he got an Academy Award nod for his portrayal of the strangely gentle bounty hunter. Foxx is solid as well (until the end, that is, when Jamie Foxx, rock star, takes over). And the film is filled with great supporting roles (Leonardo DiCaprio, I'm looking at you) and entertaining cameos. Though the comedy of the film is not unexpected, it was still a lot of fun.

Though not beautiful in the sense of westerns like Open Range (one of my favorite westerns, visually), Tarantino is clearly referencing a whole slew of spaghetti westerns in the vistas and sunsets through which his characters move, and as always he uses changes in film stock and coloring to great effect for flashbacks and other visions. The music also reflects this, alternating sly contemporary tracks with typical spaghetti western music, even, according to the opening credits, an original song by Ennio Morricone. Which made the use of Tupac at the end (I guess mixed with a few audio clips from the film?) ridiculous. It was too much, took me too much out of the world of the film and into the world of the filmmaker, and though those are related, I think they're two different things. Tarantino has never been about restraint, but I think a little dose of restraint in a few areas here would have made this go from all right to great--a little more editing, a little more character rather than caricature, a little less ripping off of his own last film. Tarantino just keeps piling on, from inter-titles (and really, do you need to tell us 1858 is "Two Years Before the Start of the Civil War"?) to body count to horse tricks. It's more than necessary, and it weighs down the film.

This all sounds like I didn't enjoy the movie. I did. It's funny, it's big, it's clever. It doesn't have as much to say as it thinks it does--I mean, is there anyone out there who DOESN'T think slavery was an evil and horrific institution deserving of being obliterated--but it has a lot of fun saying it, and at times even approaches thoughtfulness (which is different than being smart). I had a good time watching it. 

I'm just not sure I would watch it again. Tarantino sees movie violence as comedy, and he does it well--it IS funny, and it IS entertaining, and with a few notable exceptions, most of the people who die in the film deserve to die. Schultz makes a point that in his line of work, the people he kills have done horrible things, and so in the film's morality those criminals, like the slavers later on, have brought their deaths on themselves for their horrible acts. But I think the Biblical vengeance the film espouses has little to do with why the violence on screen is actually happening. It's happening because Tarantino sees the inherent entertainment in watching someone literally get blown into the next room by a gunshot. Because he likes the visual of the walls literally being painted by blood. It's the impact, not the meaning behind it, that he cares about, and while that works in some cases, I think it undermines the moral sense the film claims to be developing, and it lessens the impact of the horrible violence perpetrated in the name of slavery. The big shootout is awesome for nineteen-year-olds. It's a little wearying for me at 33, and oversimplifies both the cost and the horror of real violence. We can be horrified watching Candie's pleasure watching two slaves beat each other to death, but then we are expected to cheer an hour later watching bodies that are shot apart with great spouts of blood. Maybe Tarantino is being ironic about the desensitizing effects of exposure to violence, but I don't think so. The latter weakens the impact of the former, to the film's detriment.

The film is solid overall, minus my complaints about the last thirty minutes or so. It is also unfortunately a step backwards from Inglorious Basterds. That was a pretty great movie. This is a good movie with great moments, as well as eye-rolling moments. Tarantino remains Tarantino, and though that means being a walking encyclopedia of movie references and snappy dialogue, it also means having an inner thirteen-year-old with a loud voice. He is maturing, but he's still in process. 

Alternate Film Title: "Is Quentin Tarantino Doing a Terrible Australian Accent in His Cameo?"