Quentin Strikes Again

Rating: 9/10 (26 December 2012)

Tarantino's most recent offering, Inglorious Basterds, made a statement that his previous works—in many ways—did not: namely, that the man has matured as a filmmaker. Though there's no doubt that the likes of Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction and the like are modern classics of popular culture, they didn't necessarily demonstrate a more refined sense of wellresponsibility. With Django Unchained, the writer/director has crafted a piece of storytelling that's both violent and poignant; here, though, the violence isn't glorified in quite the same way it has been in the past.
The year is 1858—"Two Years Before the Civil War" as the opening titles tell us—and the slavery-plantation infrastructure is at the height of its dominance in the southern U.S. Also woven into this backdrop is the prominence of bounty hunters; individuals contracted by U.S. Marshals to apprehend—dead or alive—outlaws who quickly ventured out of their respective jurisdictions. One such mercenary is the German-born Dr. King Schultz (Waltz). He possesses a refined viciousness, but he makes no bones about his contempt for slavery. In an attempt to locate a trio of bandits that have changed names and relocated to another part of the country, Schultz enlists the help of Django (Foxx), a slave who has seen the gang in person and can identify them on sight. We quickly learn that there's more to Django than meets the eye. The man was separated from his wive via the slave trade some time prior, and will do anything and everything to free her. Thus the two enter into a partnership which sees them carving a path of carnage through each of the slave states between Texas and Tennessee.
It's a relatively straightforward tale of love and revenge (really, are Tarantino movies ever anything else?), and blood is spilled by the gallon every time a bullet is sent flying through an unsuspecting foe. As previously mentioned, however, there's the pressing message that violence begets violence; an especially brutal scene sees a runaway slave get ripped apart by a pack of ravenous dogs. As the grisly scenario plays out, Schultz shies away in disgust, visibly shaken by the spectacle. In fact, he's haunted by this for the remainder of the film, and it greatly influences his actions near the climax. This, I think, is where Django works best; though nauseating, it's clear that Tarantino and company were determined to foster an accurate sense of how horrific the atrocities of slavery really were. And when it comes to airbrushing history, it's clear that Tarantino absolutely refuses to tone things down.
The stylistic flair that's defined virtually every Tarantino outing is present here too, and it distinguishes the film in much the same way. Unusual—and humorous—music is cued at just the right moment, and the dialogue is every bit as crisp as you'd expect.
The acting is spectacular as well. Of particular note is the portrayal of Calvin Candie (DiCaprio). Candie is the owner of "Candie Land," one of the most feared plantations in the country, and the final destination of our protagonists as they work through their bounties in an effort to reunite Django with his betrothed. Candie is a ruthless slave owner who has an incendiary desire to inflict suffering on the residents of his property, and there's a subdued brand of rage that DiCaprio is able to bring to the role. Waltz and Foxx are, of course, formidable actors, but DiCaprio steals the show in the latter half of the movie, and, like Waltz in Basterds, he becomes the villain that we love to hate. Samuel L. Jackson is also memorable as Steven, the right-hand man (and long time slave) of Candie.
If I have any criticisms of the movie it comes in the form of the revenge bits. Though completely expected, there's an early perception that Django and Schultz are both burdened by the sense that so much killing will result in a continually growing burden that will eventually accumulate into something entirely crushing. Having these characters attempt to hash this out would have been a welcome addition; in my mind, it would have been something that separated the film from all of Tarantino's previous movies. It would have demonstrated an even deeper sense of maturity than any of us would have expected. In many ways, I kept waiting for Tarantino to transcend—for lack of a better word— himself. This never truly happens, and it's a tad bit disappointing.
That said, Django Unchained delivers in virtually every way. It's well- written, brilliantly directed, engrossing, and, (perhaps) most importantly, laced with moments of welcome seriousness.