Two years before the start of the civil war, a mysterious
drifter makes his way through the Deep South.
When he happens upon a convoy of slaves, he takes it upon himself to
violently free one of them. Though courageous
and charitable, this act of liberation does not come without a price. The drifter, Dr. King Schultz (Christoph
Waltz), is a professional bounty hunter searching for a band of killers. Django Freeman (Jamie Foxx) is a slave who
has encountered the men Schultz seeks.
In exchange for his help, Django will be granted ultimate freedom. He will also be united with his wife Broomhilda
(Kerry Washington), who remains in captivity.
Thus begins a violent odyssey which ends at the doorstep of decadent plantation
owner Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio).
Django Unchained
is Quentin Tarantino’s latest homage to the exploitation genres that have
always inspired him. Per the
requirements of such films, it deals with a touchy subject in the most incendiary
of ways. It’s a spaghetti western that
takes place against the backdrop of slavery.
Both the film and its protagonist are named after that of Sergio
Corbucci’s ultraviolent sagebrush classic Django. This would suggest that Quentin is gleefully
digging into his usual bag of tricks.
However, he also engages in a bit of cinematic subterfuge. In almost
every conceivable regard, Django
Unchained is a film that remains constantly in flux. Though it sometimes moves at snail’s pace, it
is nonetheless sheds a number of skins en route to its inevitable conclusion.
Beginning with Jackie
Brown in 1997, Quentin Tarantino’s films have slowly become more visually
dynamic. While Django doesn’t halt that progress, it shows Quentin applying his
steady and studied hand a bit more deliberately than before. The song that plays over the opening credits
is directly from Sergio Corbucci’s original Django, as is the typeface in which
the credits are rendered. Rapid zooms
are used in abundance, and certain shots resemble comic book panels. Such bravura choices stick out like a sore
thumb at first, but become less and less noticeable as the film progresses.
Initially, the film plays as something of a buddy
comedy. This is admittedly jarring. However, it’s all part of an induction
process. Tarantino slowly eases his
audience into this harsh and treacherous world before unleashing it’s truly
nightmarish aspects. The stakes
gradually become higher and the situation much more harrowing. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the
film’s depiction of slavery. The atrocities
shown become increasingly more ghastly. After
a while, the inhumanity of it all becomes not only apparent, but
undeniable. Tarantino pays special
attention to the reactions of onlookers.
While slavers and plantation owners indulge their bloodlust, the truly
evolved recoil in horror.
Tarantino extends that commentary to his audience. He exposes them to various forms of violence,
from torture to shootouts to brutal “Mandingo fights.” He exploits each in variety of ways, causing the
viewer to run the full gamut of emotional responses. The torture scenes are indeed off putting, while
the gunplay during the film’s final stretch is the very embodiment of
catharsis. By that point, Tarantino is
clearly in awe of his hero, and that sentiment proves infectious by way of the
iconography on display.
As the violence and brutality intensify, the characters and
relationships become richer and more developed.
At first, Schultz and Django’s partnership vaguely recalls that of Tuco
and Blondie from The Good, The Bad, and
The Ugly (Sans the treachery and antagonism, of course). It eventually takes on more of a
teacher/student dynamic, with Schultz playing both benefactor and mentor. Gradually, the tropes of such a relationship
are subverted, and a role reversal takes place.
As Django becomes a more layered and complex hero, he is pushed farther
and farther to the forefront of the proceedings. His arc is deceptively subtle.
The film has a plethora of characters and performances that
are every bit as colorful as Tarantino’s dialogue. As Django, Jamie Foxx undergoes a
metamorphosis that takes nearly three hours of screen time to complete. That shows an amazing amount of patience as
his part. That patience pays off
handsomely. As Dr. King Schultz,
Christoph Waltz displays a quiet dignity that is wisely never overstated. Leonardo DiCaprio takes a decidedly scenery
chewing turn as the vile Calvin Candie. The boldness of his acting choices serves to
expand his repertoire in many unexpected ways.
The same can be said of Samuel L. Jackson as Stephen, who can only be
described as the most hateful house slave in the history of cinema.
Django Unchained
is yet another wild ride through Tarantino’s cinematic universe. As always, it’s filled with familiar sights,
and lorded over by a grand (and at times overzealous) showman. This time, the tour guide takes a detour
through the darkest period of America’s existence. Rocky though the ride may be, it proves to be
a grand old time at the multiplex. Django Unchained is like a fine, yet
very strong liquor. It warms the palette and scalds the throat, all the while
providing a more than adequate buzz.
This is Tarantino at his most bold and daring. One can only wonder what he will conceive of
next.
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