Django Unchained

I didn’t decide to watch this movie for the sole purpose of criticizing Tarantino again. I honestly liked Inglorious Basterds a lot and so I was curious to see what this one would bring. In any case, I knew that style-wise, it was going to be a classic Tarantino that – for a change – uses the best that western’s got to offer. The result was an absolutely unsurprising classic. Tarantino filmed it the best he could. He filmed a piece that respects westerns to the highest degree possible but makes fun of them all at the same time. It respects them with scenes that are a precise copy of some of the best western movie scenes, but it also makes fun of them, for examplewith the fact that the local cowboy is a German and he doesn’t get whiskey in the local saloon; he gets a beer instead. I’ve never seen beer in a western movie before. Also, the Ku Klux Klan scene isn’t one I’m likely to ever forget. And the cherry on top was Jamie Foxx who is an equal of every white man in the movie while the white man simply can’t ever accept that. A classic. Everything comes together to create a great movie, a typical Tarantino piece that isn’t exactly my cup of tea, but that will probablynever change with Tarantino. In any case, I’m glad that I’ve seen the movie and life goes on… (18/06/2013)

It’s a bit of a pity that Tarantino didn’t give more thought to the climax. The escort scene is unnecessary and slows the pace at the moment when it should escalate into the grand climax. Apart from this misstep, which seems incomprehensible to me given Tarantino’s masterful screenwriting, Django Unchained is the best Tarantino movie since Pulp Fiction. The slow-motion shot of a running horse’s legs, the Ku Klux Klan scene, the central duo’s interactions with Leonardo DiCaprio and the tenseness of their scenes, culminating in the arrival at Candyland and Samuel L. Jackson’s response to see Django on horseback accompanied by Jerry Goldsmith’s “Nicaragua” are all legendary movie highlights (the arrival at Candyland, which gave me goose-bumps, is for me the best movie scene of the year). Jackson’s Stephen may be a bit overplayed, but it is an iconic and unforgettable role. Christoph Waltz and DiCaprio are amazing, Jamie Foxx is okay. The soundtrack is divine. Django Unchained is unique western pulp with a single flaw that could have been easily corrected. (22/01/2013)

Black dynamite. A provocative kick in the balls, which Tarantino inflicts with xenophobia and racism in the field of the "white man" genre, such as the western (but at the same time, in a way, he does not spare the "niggaz"). If I am to blame Django Unchained for anything, it would be that, in addition to the fact that some parts really look like they were edited by a high negro using autogen, then perhaps just its very digital look. I know that Tarantino simply wanted to give the western locations a modern patina, and I know he didn't want to unnecessarily tie himself down with spaghetti western conventions, but in some places Django Unchained looks stylistically quite weak (rather, it lacks style - I think it is important to see Django Unchained in the movie theatre mainly so that one can enjoy the choruses of laughter). But I would end the criticism there. Perfect punch lines (they don't hit you - they tear your balls out and stuff them down your throat), great acting attached to great characters, absurd black humor, irresistible volatility between sublime epics, blaxploitation and grind-house blood, dramatic timing that Tarantino won me over with despite my years of resistance in Inglourious Basterds. What I enjoy most about his new films is how he turns his light, bloody and disrespectful hand against great history and "sociocultural" concepts. This black version of the Nibelungs, where the white pride of the KKK can't see through the bags on the road and a German drinking beer is fighting against the colonels in white... well, it just grabbed me by the balls. (08/01/2013)

Not much of an homage to spaghetti westerns, despite Franco Nero's cameo, rather, some kind of (commendable) anti-racist prod that doesn't even make much sense at the end. The experience resembles a sine wave, as long as Waltz is on screen with his enthusiasm, it's a treat that honours even Western rules. But from the moment we meet DiCaprio, the film goes downhill in quality, where the genre's name would best fit the phrase "typical Tarantino crap" and where the "warrant in your pocket" moment (what a coincidence!) is such a cheap, illogical screenwriting crutch that only a naive viewer can buy it. I could expect anything from Tarantino, but not a cliché like this. And the violence, with hectolitres of squirting ketchup, is so over-stylized (especially in the final carnage) that I'm actually tired of it. PS: The scene with the Ku-Klux-Klan will make anyone laugh, myself included. (13/01/2013)

I consider myself a rational man, a person of science, and an admirer of natural laws. I do not believe in water spirits and witches, I smile at the products of astrologers, and I shrug at the belief in prophecies and magic. Occasionally, however, I come across a mystery - something that clearly transcends the boundaries of our world, something that cannot be explained by logic or ordinary thinking processes. I understand why Tarantino made a name for himself with Pulp Fiction. His screenplay cleverly worked with references and pop culture, and it was innovative and funny. But as new titles emerged, the ideas from them disappeared, the effort to be cool turned into awkwardness, quotes turned into copying, and the attempt to meet fans' expectations led to a loss of sanity. However, surprisingly, his success persisted. It's hard to say what the ecstatic admirative comments stem from. Perhaps it's mass suggestion, unknown drugs, or bribes (but in that case, Tarantino shamefully left me out). In the whole movie, I find maybe two funny scenes - the introduction of Christoph Waltz and the encounter with the Ku Klux Klan. The rest is about as funny as the humor of a circus clown from the cheapest provincial circus after a few shots of vodka. The screenplay is unremarkable, relying on poorly written characters, which the director, by the way, doesn't know how to work with. The result is a worn-out, over-stylized, and clichéd film with an excessive runtime. A director like Martin McDonagh knows how to have perspective, playing with genre expectations, and pulp aesthetics in films like In Bruges or Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, and overall is several levels above Tarantino. You can interpret Django Unchained however you want, but for me, it's a case of a decently cast, but completely mishandled film. For a long time, I tended to overlook Tarantino's self-centeredness, lack of sanity, and obvious missteps, but now he's getting the full brunt of my dissatisfaction, perhaps even for my previous disappointments. Overall impression: 10%. (24/10/2018)