Django II - A play for those who'd love to kill

Rating: 1/10 (27 December 2015)

Another Tarantino movie about a bunch of depraved killers, another three-hour bore-fest by the master of unabashed hate. The plot of TH8 is simple, but told very heavy-handedly, with lots of chitchat & filler scenes; several times, for example, we have to watch people meticulously nailing a door shut, because the lock is broken. This slapstick idea goes surprisingly well with the rest of the movie. Four fifths of TH8 take place in a single big room that looks like a theater stage. Before the violence starts the air of a popular theater play from olden times is not far away. For the TV edition Tarantino should consider to add boo, hiss, laugh, cheer & sob tracks to really give it an authentic "Calico Playhouse"-feeling and to spice it up with some severely missed emotions.
TH8 is again about bounty hunters, that creepy American institution. The first one, John Ruth, is called "Hangman". He doesn't hang his caught "Wanted Dead or Alive"-guys himself, he just takes them back to town, where an official hangman will do this job. In the Tarantino-universe this is considered to be an irrational, stupid behavior. The desperate captive will try to flee; some companions might try to free him. Why go through all this trouble, if he could just kill them? The debauched answer is: He really loves to see people hang. That's his kink. TH8 tells the story of his journey to get his captive, Daisy D., to a place where she will perform her "last dance".
The second bounty hunter, Marquis Warren, is quite obviously an old version of Tarantino's Django. His motivation is rabid racial hatred. He uses every excuse to kill white guys. He is the only character in this movie that is sufficiently described by the adjective "hateful". Why don't the white guys consider his permanent bragging about killing whites as a threat to their own lives? They are very modern that way.
While the stage decoration looks genuine, the dialogs are all too frequently anachronistic, very obviously written by a social justice couch potato. They are soaked with features of an obnoxious zeitgeist: historical revisionism, hypocritical race obsession, ignorance of the human nature.
The worst element of TH8 is the violence. Never before has Tarantino celebrated it with such blazing sadism. In the age of exploding zombie heads this might sound silly or like a special accomplishment, but the violence in TH8 is really sickening and repulsive. Its most sordid manifestation is during TH8's only sex scene, featuring a woman and two men, who revel in their vicarious Estragon-&-Vladimir-moment. To what depths of depravation Tarantino's groupies will follow their master?
As for the title: Is "Eight" Tarantino's nickname? Or did he ponder: "The hateful ate my last offerings; they will swallow even more of that stuff." The answer is revealed at the very beginning of TH8: this is Tarantino's 8th film. How much more hate does the world need?