It was almost eleven months ago that I first read Tarantino’s
168 page epic, Django Unchained. I
remember after reading it the first time that I was convinced it would hit the
spot when it came to Tarantino, as if all his tributes and pastiches to World
cinema were going to culminate into his self-professed ‘epic’. Admittedly, it was going to be a four hour behemoth if it followed the script to the word, but the finished article is a different beast all together. His unapologetic homage to the Spaghetti Western
is a damn fine exercise in entertainment, and what a raucous hoot it is.
In keeping with the genre, Django Unchained follows a simple premise: In the Deep South, a
slave is freed from his captors by a German bounty hunter, who partners up with
his new accomplice to collect some large bounties. In return for the slave’s
help, the German promises to assist him to a formidable plantation to rescue
his long-captured wife. If the plot were any more complicated, then it would’ve
missed the mark completely, and thankfully for us, Tarantino managed to keep a
tight enough leash on his production to prevent it running away with itself at
any point. His films sometimes play out like his interviews – like a fourteen
year old spewing ideas faster than he can write them. I imagine that’s why
Tarantino’s films often have present scenes segued with those of the past (a
chronological mash-up made so iconic by his earlier works, Pulp Fiction and Reservoir
Dogs), and rather than being any kind of genius at work, it pangs more of
someone still developing their ideas as they write. I believe there is no such
thing as a Tarantino final draft, as I can imagine the manchild always
tweaking, always adding, always dedicating no matter how often he looks over
his written work. It’s these flashbacks which often strike me as a tardy
addition rather than plot device, and in Django they are increasingly staccato.
What more, it seems the film has really been through the mill during editing,
with some of the scripts best scenes being eradicated entirely, not to mention
some of the main characters (Ace Woody!!) and the fact the entire ending has being
rehashed.
As per all his previous efforts, the cast are superb, and it
seems that Tarantino can certainly draw the best from his actors. As per his
last film, Christoph Waltz is absolutely mesmeric, enchanting and brilliant,
delivering the best lines with aplomb (he really is one of the best working
today!), and Leonardo DiCaprio gets to slide out of his squeaky-clean shell to
play plantation owner and all-round bastard Calvin Candie. His brown-yellow
teeth, piercing blue eyes and ivory cigarette holder all contribute to his evil
demeanour, as though he was a hideously racist male incarnation of Cruella de Ville.
Django himself, played by Jamie Foxx, sits somewhere in the mighty shadow cast
by his supports. Jamie Foxx has proved he can deliver a knockout when he needs
(Ray), and were he in a usual
Spaghetti Western from Leone or a peer, then he may just get away with the
slightly taciturn performance he delivers but in a Tarantino Western, with
caricatures and personalities so big, his ‘Good’ falls flat against the ‘Bad’
and ‘Ugly’ around him.
It doesn't really detract from the film, but is more of a pedant's comments after reading the script, but Django
Unchained misses out too many crucial scenes – such as Django properly
learning how to fight, shoot and work as a bounty hunter (rather than just
being a natural – how convenient), but I'm clutching at straws. The
crimes against slaves are horrific: beaten (and hammered) to death, eaten by
dogs, the ‘hot box’ – an iron coffin left out in the Mississippi sun, branded,
tortured, worked to the bone, so, as an audience, we needed to see some harsh
revenge for these crimes, rather than just bullets and dynamite. In the script
Ace Woody (merged into Billy Crash for the finished article) plays with a large
hunting knife, and it would’ve been damn cool to see Django go up against Billy
Crash in a knife fight at the end, or give Stephen the beating of a lifetime
with his cane. In one scene trying to do the above, we see Django whipping a
nasty slaver, but it falls flat when we realise he’s hitting the man mid-length
(rather than on the tip), leaving no stripes or even marks – a mere touch when
compared with what Broomhilda experiences at the hands of her captors. A single
shot followed by a smart quip is great to see ("I like the way you die, boy"), but where Inglourious Basterds showed us some meaty vengeance, with Nazis
being scalped, cut, shot, battered, and burned alive, Django Unchained lacked creativity in the one area where Tarantino
needs no advice: violent retribution. That said, this is a Western movie, so some sharp-shooting is obviously the revenge modus operandi.
Of all his avengers, Django should stand up easily against Beatrix, Aldo or any of the Basterds given his line of work, and thankfully, Django is just about the baddest motherfu*ker in the West. One thing is for sure, given this is about a freed-slave-turned-bounty-hunter-going-to-save-his-wife-from-evil-slave-driving-plantation-owners (a.k.a 'the ultimate revenge tale'), it couldn't have been in a safer pair of hands. A ruddy great film, and a raucous adventure - like Django himself, Tarantino hits the bullseye with a shredding blast. [5/5]
Of all his avengers, Django should stand up easily against Beatrix, Aldo or any of the Basterds given his line of work, and thankfully, Django is just about the baddest motherfu*ker in the West. One thing is for sure, given this is about a freed-slave-turned-bounty-hunter-going-to-save-his-wife-from-evil-slave-driving-plantation-owners (a.k.a 'the ultimate revenge tale'), it couldn't have been in a safer pair of hands. A ruddy great film, and a raucous adventure - like Django himself, Tarantino hits the bullseye with a shredding blast. [5/5]
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