So here it is, the fabled Django review. Not that many opf
you care, to be honest – you either haven’t seen it or have seen it. And by
god, if you’ve seen it you’ll have your own opinions and won’t care about mine.
I’ve been dreading writing this review because Tarentino films are…well,
they’re a class of their own. Say what you will about the man, but he’s
pioneered what could be considered a whole genre for himself. So it’s somewhat
difficult to write about. However, if someone put a gun to my head and asked me
to describe the film in three adjectives, here’s what I’d say
Django is the following:
-
Trashy
-
Unspeakably violent
-
Riotously entertaining
In the spirit of Quentin refusing to do anything anyway but
his own, I’ll structure this review a little different to normal ones,
discussing each word and whether it’s got good or bad connotations. Most have
both.
1.
Trashy
Anyone who’s seen anything by Tarentino
won’t be surprised by this. Pulp Fiction is, well, just that…pulp. It’s silly
and brightly coloured and…well, trashy. “Django” doesn’t stray from the
director’s crazy Technicolor path too much at all, I’ll say that. Blood spurts,
muscles bulge and the trademark yellow text is still there. It’s a lot more than a Spaghetti Western, but
it lovingly nods to these sorts of films with a lot of close ups and sprawling
landscape shots. But this is Quentin Tarentino, the man who writes his own
bible passages and rewrites the history of the Second World War. Of course
we’re not getting a straight-up Western, and the second half of Django spins
into something of a revenge epic. The silliness is still there, of course –
Leonardo DiCaprio delivers a wonderfully trashy performance as the egotistical
Calvin Candie – but the second half doesn’t have the same wonderfully trashy
feel of the first half. Yes, I knew there was going to be revenge and blood and
gunshots, but I was enjoying Christoph Waltz’ mad dentist cantering around with
the moody, sassy Django. (Jamie Foxx, who I loved, just to tone down the
madness) The film clocks in at almost three hours, but I felt like I was
watching two different films, and the second just didn’t “click” as much with
me. Not trashy enough, yo.
2.
Unspeakably violent
I can hear the QT fanboys (or
girls) groaning at me now. “OF COURSE it’s violent, Áine! Did you expect a
fluffy kids film from the man who brought you Kill Bill? Be reasonable, and
shut up pretending you know about films!” Well, to you I say: I don’t know much
about films, but I’ve dated an almost-obsessive for close to two years – so I
know more than most with a passing interest. I know enough to know that of
COURSE Django is insanely violent, but I still think it’s worthy of mention.
For some reason the violence of Django is different to the violence of Kill
Bill, Inglorious Basterds or Pulp Fiction. It’s more…maniacal is the best word
I can think of. While watching Jamie Foxx leap through the air shooting from
two hguns, you can almost hear QT’s laughter. In a way, it makes the violence
of other QT films seem restrained (though I haven’t seen Resevoir Dogs, so maybe
I can’t comment fully there). Maybe it’s because the shooting in Django has
more of a purpose? Waltz’ character, Dr. Schulz, kills for money. Django kills
for revenge. It’s less random violence and more…well, enjoyable. The two
central characters seem to love it, which makes it all the madder.
3.
Riotously entertaining
Odd as this may be juxtaposed with the
previous paragraph, I haven’t laughed at a movie as much as I’ve laughed at
“Django” in a long time. It’s all there: again, Christoph Waltz’ bizarrely polite
European mannerisms (He asks a man he just shot to “keep your caterwauling down
while I talk to young Django”), Django’s sass (there’s no other word for it. He
just doesn’t give a shit for the entire film.) and Calvin Candie’s bizarre
beard-twirling madness. It’s all hilarious, as is the violence on some level.
Honestly, if you want to kept entertained for three hours and don’t mind very
frequent use of the N-word (I counted 92 times), you should see this
movie. Above all the condemnations of
rewriting history, blacksplotation (still not sure what this is. Blame David) and
being downright racist, it’s fun. Tarintino has always been fun. Apart from the
Gimp scene in Pulp Fiction…still gives me nightmares. But that’s neither here
nor there.
Basically: Django is not perfect by any
means. It is not Pulp Fiction: but it’s close. It’s funny, it’s silly, it’s got
really excellent performances from its three main leads, particularly DiCaprio,
who should play mental plantation owners more. And no, it’s really not a
realistic portrayal of the Deep South in the 1800s – a central plot device
involving slave-fighting never existed – but when did we go to Tarentino for
realism? If I wanted realism I’d go to Zero Dark Thirty, the Oscar movie I am
stubbornly ignoring. Also, Django has some really excellent performances, not
only from Foxx, Waltz and DiCaprio, but Samuel L. Jackson, who almost steals
the show. Tarintino also breaks records by being one of the first people to
blow himself up on film. I think that says it all, really.
