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#577 - Django Unchained
Quentin Tarantino, 2012
In pre-Civil War America, a bounty hunter teams up with a former slave in order to find and free the former slave's wife.
If I were to describe Django Unchained in one word, it would be "safe". This is not to say that it is a fundamentally bad film, but considering how Tarantino originally built his reputation as a filmmaker on being a consistently shocking and surprising filmmaker I can't help but feel like this is kind of a let-down. Granted, this isn't the first time that one of his films failed to live up to his considerably high standard - the pulpy B-movie throwback of Death Proof doesn't have a whole lot of stand-alone appeal and I would definitely rank it as his worst film (though I do have half a mind to revisit it). If Django Unchained had been his next film after that, it would have been a good film and a promise that Tarantino was getting back on track to make another masterpiece. Unfortunately, Inglourious Basterds arrived and proved a consistently unpredictable piece of work buoyed by strong performances and several impressively taut sequences (although it did run a little long). While Django Unchained doesn't lack for running time or general craftsmanship, in many respects it feels like a backwards step for Tarantino.
The plot is relatively simple; one cold, dark night a German bounty hunter (Christoph Waltz) encounters a group of slaves being driven through the wilderness and selects one (Jamie Foxx) because he is the only one who can identify a trio of highly lucrative targets for him. After legally acquiring Foxx (and allowing the slave-masters to meet appropriately grisly demises in the process), Waltz opts to free him after he helps out with tracking down the original three targets. Foxx takes to bounty-hunting with considerable ease; however, he mainly plans to use his newfound freedom in order to rescue his wife (Kerry Washington), who is a slave on one of the most notoriously sadistic plantations in Mississippi. To this end, Waltz and Foxx concoct a scheme that will allow them to persuade the plantation's owner (Leonardo DiCaprio) to let them "own" Washington, but of course things are never that simple. All things considered, it is a fairly straightforward plot and Tarantino has done more with less - he did wring a four-hour epic out of an incredibly simple revenge storyline with Kill Bill, after all - but his typically episodic style of narrative structure clashes with his intention to recreate the sprawling Western epics that he grew up watching. It's enough to make the film as a whole feel strangely directionless despite its basic rescue-revenge story; the listless drifting is enough to make one feel especially fatigued even before the film reaches its final half-hour.
Fortunately, the film's less-than-stellar storyline is anchored by Waltz and Foxx sharing a fairly strong odd-couple dynamic throughout the whole thing. In Inglourious Basterds, Waltz stole the show as an effortlessly charming and clever Nazi investigator; it is that same sense of charisma that translates to his vastly different role in Django Unchained as a bounty hunter with a strong (albeit imperfect) sense of personal ethics. He has to be an effervescent character in order to carry Foxx, whose character has to take some time to grow from traumatised slave to angel of vengeance. His quiet demeanour soon gives way to a calm yet acidic tone that makes the ideal counter-point to Waltz's extremely friendly mannerisms. Other characters vary in terms of ability and effectiveness; Washington is decent enough even though her role basically does extend to being a damsel in distress. Despite the sheer amount of effort that DiCaprio puts into his role (if nothing else, him being able to act through having his hand actually get slashed open in one scene is admittedly impressive), I just can't take him seriously. Though his character is supposed to be a gleefully sadistic racist, he never convincingly makes the transition from ridiculous caricature to genuine threat - and that's without getting into his overwrought Southern accent and lapsing into the sort of vein-popping yelling that pops up in enough of his roles to make his relative lack of range apparent. At least his scenes are supported by the presence of semi-regular Tarantino collaborator Samuel L. Jackson, whose turn as DiCaprio's head slave has considerable depth beneath a surface that initially seems to be little more than an extremely racist stereotype.
Though the issues with plot and characterisation do ultimately prevent Django Unchained from becoming a major classic, it does well enough on a technical front. I'm really starting to take note of Robert Richardson as a cinematographer lately; his versatility with a variety of cinematic styles makes him a perfect fit for Tarantino's trademark genre-blending as over-saturated colours and crash-zooms fit side-by-side with more traditional landscape shots. The soundtrack is naturally an eclectic and mostly anachronistic collection of pieces that work to varying degrees of effectiveness, though the best moments tend to not have any background music whatsoever. The action is decent, if not entirely up to Tarantino's best; at the very least, there is one sequence that is so exquisitely captured that it should serve as the film's climax (sadly it doesn't, thus leading to the film fading away more so than burning out). After at least two full viewings and at least one or two other partial viewings, I still have some hope that this will grow on me and become genuinely great rather than merely good. There is plenty to like about it, but all the strengths that this film has ultimately struggle to come together and form a cohesively strong piece of work.
Quentin Tarantino, 2012
In pre-Civil War America, a bounty hunter teams up with a former slave in order to find and free the former slave's wife.
If I were to describe Django Unchained in one word, it would be "safe". This is not to say that it is a fundamentally bad film, but considering how Tarantino originally built his reputation as a filmmaker on being a consistently shocking and surprising filmmaker I can't help but feel like this is kind of a let-down. Granted, this isn't the first time that one of his films failed to live up to his considerably high standard - the pulpy B-movie throwback of Death Proof doesn't have a whole lot of stand-alone appeal and I would definitely rank it as his worst film (though I do have half a mind to revisit it). If Django Unchained had been his next film after that, it would have been a good film and a promise that Tarantino was getting back on track to make another masterpiece. Unfortunately, Inglourious Basterds arrived and proved a consistently unpredictable piece of work buoyed by strong performances and several impressively taut sequences (although it did run a little long). While Django Unchained doesn't lack for running time or general craftsmanship, in many respects it feels like a backwards step for Tarantino.
The plot is relatively simple; one cold, dark night a German bounty hunter (Christoph Waltz) encounters a group of slaves being driven through the wilderness and selects one (Jamie Foxx) because he is the only one who can identify a trio of highly lucrative targets for him. After legally acquiring Foxx (and allowing the slave-masters to meet appropriately grisly demises in the process), Waltz opts to free him after he helps out with tracking down the original three targets. Foxx takes to bounty-hunting with considerable ease; however, he mainly plans to use his newfound freedom in order to rescue his wife (Kerry Washington), who is a slave on one of the most notoriously sadistic plantations in Mississippi. To this end, Waltz and Foxx concoct a scheme that will allow them to persuade the plantation's owner (Leonardo DiCaprio) to let them "own" Washington, but of course things are never that simple. All things considered, it is a fairly straightforward plot and Tarantino has done more with less - he did wring a four-hour epic out of an incredibly simple revenge storyline with Kill Bill, after all - but his typically episodic style of narrative structure clashes with his intention to recreate the sprawling Western epics that he grew up watching. It's enough to make the film as a whole feel strangely directionless despite its basic rescue-revenge story; the listless drifting is enough to make one feel especially fatigued even before the film reaches its final half-hour.
Fortunately, the film's less-than-stellar storyline is anchored by Waltz and Foxx sharing a fairly strong odd-couple dynamic throughout the whole thing. In Inglourious Basterds, Waltz stole the show as an effortlessly charming and clever Nazi investigator; it is that same sense of charisma that translates to his vastly different role in Django Unchained as a bounty hunter with a strong (albeit imperfect) sense of personal ethics. He has to be an effervescent character in order to carry Foxx, whose character has to take some time to grow from traumatised slave to angel of vengeance. His quiet demeanour soon gives way to a calm yet acidic tone that makes the ideal counter-point to Waltz's extremely friendly mannerisms. Other characters vary in terms of ability and effectiveness; Washington is decent enough even though her role basically does extend to being a damsel in distress. Despite the sheer amount of effort that DiCaprio puts into his role (if nothing else, him being able to act through having his hand actually get slashed open in one scene is admittedly impressive), I just can't take him seriously. Though his character is supposed to be a gleefully sadistic racist, he never convincingly makes the transition from ridiculous caricature to genuine threat - and that's without getting into his overwrought Southern accent and lapsing into the sort of vein-popping yelling that pops up in enough of his roles to make his relative lack of range apparent. At least his scenes are supported by the presence of semi-regular Tarantino collaborator Samuel L. Jackson, whose turn as DiCaprio's head slave has considerable depth beneath a surface that initially seems to be little more than an extremely racist stereotype.
Though the issues with plot and characterisation do ultimately prevent Django Unchained from becoming a major classic, it does well enough on a technical front. I'm really starting to take note of Robert Richardson as a cinematographer lately; his versatility with a variety of cinematic styles makes him a perfect fit for Tarantino's trademark genre-blending as over-saturated colours and crash-zooms fit side-by-side with more traditional landscape shots. The soundtrack is naturally an eclectic and mostly anachronistic collection of pieces that work to varying degrees of effectiveness, though the best moments tend to not have any background music whatsoever. The action is decent, if not entirely up to Tarantino's best; at the very least, there is one sequence that is so exquisitely captured that it should serve as the film's climax (sadly it doesn't, thus leading to the film fading away more so than burning out). After at least two full viewings and at least one or two other partial viewings, I still have some hope that this will grow on me and become genuinely great rather than merely good. There is plenty to like about it, but all the strengths that this film has ultimately struggle to come together and form a cohesively strong piece of work.