Django Unchained: Outshines Itself

There are few filmmakers these days whose anticipated new releases can be considered legitimate events. Film fans will no doubt eagerly await what Christopher Nolan, a David Fincher or a Martin Scorsese will offer them, but even marketers seem keyed into the allure and mass appeal of Quentin Tarantino's offering, boldly declaring "the new film by Quentin Tarantino" in all their commercials. Many indie filmmaking pioneers still working today are not unfamiliar with either critical accolades or box office success (Scorsese, Soderbergh, Russell, etc.), but Tarantino is arguably the only filmmaker who emerged from the ebbs and flows of America's independent film movement with an almost airtight guarantee that his continued work will both attract the masses and appease the critics with the allure of a unique tone and voice that has gone undiminished and unchanged throughout the decades. 

Tarantino has been known for paying homage to and twisting genre films since his early beginnings. Since Kill Bill that signature tone and voice has manifested itself in films that don't just borrow from genre archetypes, but instead bring those genres to the forefront in chronology, setting, and character types. In Django Unchained the genre that paints Tarantino's latest tale is the Western, set in the lush, fertile, pre-Civil War American South. 

The Pre-Civil War setting of this film obviously entails that slavery is still a linchpin of the American economy and our first introduction to Django (Jamie Foxx) is as one face in a nighttime chain gang being marched to new their “homes” from their point of sale. This caravan is come upon by Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a former dentist turned bounty hunter hoping to purchase Django from his slave traders. When it's clear that a civilized transaction can't be worked out, the matter is settled by the quintessential Western judge, jury, and executioner: the quickdraw. Of course Schultz wins, taking Django as his prize. Together they hunt down Django’s former masters, the Brittle Brothers. With a flash of pistols and splatters of giallo red blood, the Brittle Brothers are dead and Schultz frees Django so that he is free to, as he puts it, "kill white people for money…what's not to like?" As Django and Schultz make a killing in making killings, Schultz also agrees to try and reunite Django with his wife despite the fact that she was sold to the infamously ruthless slaver Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio). “Ain't no slave hasn't heard of Candie Land" Django warns ominously.

From its gorgeously photographed expansive vistas, to its kinetic gun battles painted with blood, to its geographically sweeping tale of revenge, Django Unchained is an exciting and entertaining Western—a noteworthy entry into a storied genre that has atrophied in recent decades. Thanks to Tarantino's method of revitalizing the old by way of the new, the film breathes new life into the Western by updating its location to the south and thus, injecting the subtext and implications that go along with that setting.

Much has already been written about the excessive use of the n-word in Django Unchained (I believe it’s used over 100 times) and whether its excess is appropriate or not. Putting aside the fact that the film takes place in a time and place where such a racial slur was likely used with the frequency of today's teens' "like," one must also consider that, being an intelligent filmmaker, Tarantino surely recognizes the deeper inspirations for the superficial thrills and provocations of the B-movies that have spurred him. Tarantino, like all logical human beings, recognizes this historical absurdity and the people who allowed it to proliferate and takes every opportunity to remind us of that moronic stretch in our nation's history we'd like to pretend doesn't exist.

Yes, there's heavy use of the n-word, but the characters in Django Unchained who arm themselves with it as both a shield and sword—primarily henchmen and cronies—are almost uniformly idiotic and pathetic. It goes without saying that Candie, as the film's primarily villain, should be and is condemned for his oppressive behavior. Even his loyal house slave Stephen, played to great over-the-top effect by Samuel L. Jackson, comments on the absurdity of a system that brainwashed the oppressed into a sickening Stockholm Syndrome. The unnaturally bright red blood splattered through the film's exciting shootouts serve as an exclamation point on the declaration that Tarantino understands the inherent ridiculous in not only what is being commented on, but the means used to comment on it.

Django Unchained's frequent over the top nature puts it in the running for Tarantino's most hilarious film, but it it's also in the running for his most uneven film. Tarantino is no stranger to runtimes of 2 and a half hours, but Django Unchained is one of his few films that feels as long as it actually is. Perhaps it's due to Tarantino working for the first time without his longtime editor Sally Menke, but not found in Django Unchained is a scene with the masterfully built tension of Inglourious Basterds' basement bar sequence or the joyful irreverence of Pulp Fiction's "Royale with cheese" conversation.

Not helping the film's cause is the fact the Django is a far more shallow and far less interesting character than his surrounding characters. Django is a man of few words, but seeing as we know so little about him (he's a slave, he's married, he likes killing people), his silence doesn't seem to result from mystery or intrigue as much as it does from being a poorly written character. Foxx gives a fine performance with the material provided for him but he's frequently overshadowed by the once again fantastic Waltz and the surefire Oscar nominee DiCaprio. Were Django Unchained more of an ensemble film along the line of Basterds, this misstep might be more forgivable, but Django is the entryway for the audience into this world and he spends most of the film as a spectator. If not for the fact that Tarantino has once again created a film so admirable in all other aspects of its execution, the creative subjugation of its central character might undermine all the delightfully ridiculous goodwill otherwise built.