Where's My Django Unchained Review? AKA My Django Unchained Review

I have failed you, dear reader. It's been weeks since Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained came out and yet there's been nary a word from MaxRambles about it. Tarantino's last flick, Inglourious Basterds, stands as one of my favourite movies of all time, and I previously said that Django was one of my most anticipated films of the year, so what gives? Where's the bloody review?

Believe me, it's not for lack of trying that I've failed to write a review. I've seen Django twice since it came out, and on no less than three occasions I've started to write a review of it for this blog. Hell, I even re-watched Wild Wild West to try to give myself a comparative angle (pro-tip: don't re-watch Wild Wild West, it's far worse than you remember and not in a fun way). But each time I end up second-guessing myself and ultimately unsatisfied with what come out.

The truth is that the reason I can't seem to write a Wild Wild West Django Unchained review is that I just didn't care enough about the movie to have much worth saying about it. I didn't like it anywhere near as much as Inglourious Basterds, nor did I find Django comparably intelligent and nuanced, but I didn't hate the movie either. The title of my review was going to be "Django Unchained: More Kill Bill Volume 1 than Inglourious Basterds 2," and to be honest that kind of says it all. The movie had style and was entertaining and interesting, but beyond that I just didn't feel there was much there. Certainly Django had Tarantino's characteristic layering of film history and references, but on its own that's not enough to elevate the movie from good to great. My expectations undoubtedly had a lot to do with that perception, but regardless I just didn't think Django had as much going for it as I hoped it would/Tarantino is capable of.

To quickly give credit where credit is due, Django was quite well executed. The performances were all quite effective, particularly those of Leonardo DiCaprio and Christoph Waltz (whose callbacks to his role in Basterds stand as my favourite part of Django). The soundtrack was entertaining, and John Legend's "Who Did That to You" has permanently entered my iTunes collection (listen to it on the YouTube embed above). I also found the movie a lot funnier than I had expected, and most of it worked quite well (though not all *glares at the overly long lynch mob masks discussion*).

But execution can only do so much in the face of a poor script, and while I haven't read the actual script I can say that the written words behind what ultimately ended up of film were severely lacking. More than any of Tarantino's other films, Django suffered from scenes that went on too long, pointless tangents, and (most surprisingly) boring dialogue. The film is almost completely barren of Tarantino's hallmark flare for writing, and with a few exceptions all of the speeches were terse and uninteresting. Those that did rise above the rest were almost exclusively performed by DiCaprio and Waltz, and there's a part of me that attributes it more to their acting abilities than the writing.

I have other problems with the movie but I'm getting dangerously close to the problem I mentioned above with my previous attempts at writing a Django review. I think I've made my point that I both enjoyed it and didn't find it particularly memorable or noteworthy, and hence don't care enough to write about it beyond this post. The only other thing I'll say is that the passing of Sally Menke was felt quite strongly, and that might be the root of all Django's problems. What we saw onscreen was a mess, both in terms of the pieces that were chosen and how they were fit together, and Django worked in spite of this only because Tarantino is just that talented. I certainly hope he finds whatever his co-operation with Menke used to give him, because I for one would love to see him rise to the level of Inglourious Basterds once again. Maybe Django Unchained could have done so, but what the movie ultimately became falls well short of the high-water mark.

So that's generally my take, sound off below and let me know what you thought of it/that you think I'm crazy.

Cool Video: Tarantino on Boyle's Sunshine

I don't mean to be such a Tarantino fanboy by posting this right after my post praising Inglourious Basterds, but I found this video on /Film this morning and it's an amazing critique of Boyle's Sunshine.

I saw the movie when it hit theatres back in 2007 and felt that it was an interesting but deeply flawed movie. Beyond its laughable third act twist, I felt that the film borrowed too heavily and obviously from the heavies of the sci-fi genre, both thematicaly nd aesthetically. Tarantino is more forgiving of Sunshine's clear references to its influences, and praises it for exploring new territories.

The reason I'm posting the video is because I think it's interesting to see a director exhibiting this kind of geeky reverence for film making and in-depth critique of a director-screenwriter team. Regardless of my feelings about the majority of his films, this is the reason I like Tarantino: he is a geek. It's great to see this kind of excitement and energy from someone in his position, especially considering how long he's been in the business.

Anyways, that's it for today. This past week has seen me return to the city, so hopefully I can return to a regular posting schedule fairly soon.

Inglourious Basterds

In 1951, Theodor Adorno said that, "Writing poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric." Fifty-eight years later, Quentin Tarantino's 'Inglourious Basterds' embraces that barbarism for the sake of catharsis. It abandons realism in order to address the underlying shock and anger from WW2 that most films about the period have heretofore been unable to touch upon.

When I first heard that Tarantino was making a WW2 film I was suspicious. I was far from convinced that his style would suit the setting and content very well, and the initial trailers did little to assuage my apprehensions. The final product completely demolishes the conventions of the war film genre in lieu of his signature personality. What surprised me, however, was how expertly interwoven the style and message of the film are. The film is indisputably a Tarantino production, and for what it is trying to accomplish I doubt it could be as successful were it anything else.


The movie isn't about a group of Jewish-American soldiers running around occupied France scalping Nazis, as the trailers and descriptions have suggested. I mean, that happens, but it's a surprisingly small part of the overall narrative. Greater emphasis is placed upon a Parisian movie theatre which hosts the premiere of Joseph Goebbels latest propaganda film, 'A Nation's Pride.' More specifically, the film is about the act of making films about the Second World War.

In outspoken opposition of many war films, 'Basterds' throws historical realism out the window. This film is not about trying to represent the events of the war faithfully, and in fact it throws out the very notion that a film could possibly do so. This film does not adhere to reality, it rather represents our pain, hate, and desire for revenge in the wake of something as terrible as WW2.

Instead of the diegetic melodrama of most war films, the emotional story of Basterds rests within the audience. One of the reasons war films are so consistently fruitful and resonant is because of the scar that the actions of the Nazi party left upon the mass consciousness. Nazis, from Hitler to Goebbels to the most low-level foot soldier, have come to represent pure evil as a cultural/historical signifier. No matter how much we try to humanize them there remains a quality of evil to their very existence that, if nothing else, makes for good movie villains.

The memory of the atrocities they committed makes us root for anyone who fights against them, and for their deaths. In 'Basterds' there are "good guys" that we are barely given a chance to care about but we do so simply because they are not Nazis; at the same time we cheer and laugh at the deaths of characters who beg for their lives simply because they are Nazis. Tarantino recognizes this collective sense of hatred, and his film reacts to it in a way that is simultaneously barbaric and soothing in terms of its treatment of the wounds of WW2.

'Basterds' is literally barbaric insofar as it is quite savagely violent Brad Pitt and his cohorts scalp Nazis before our eyes and Eli Roth gruesomely beats one to death with a baseball bat. In terms of how Adorno used the word, however, the film sharply differentiates itself from purportedly realistic portrayals of history. The Omaha beach scene in 'Saving Private Ryan' is chilling, but it would be a callous stretch to say it captures the feeling of being on that beach in 1944. Whether or not its so-called "realistic" depiction of events as they occurred is respectful or barbaric is a subjective judgment, but Adorno felt such things could not be represented and that to attempt to do so would be cruel.

Tarantino's 'Basterds' openly rejects such realism in lieu of a style of film making that is in an emotional outburst of pain, anger, and remembrance. By giving himself complete freedom in terms of manipulating historical events, Tarantino allows himself to make a movie that is therapeutic through its literal assault on past villains in unexpected and viciously satisfying ways.

Tarantino aligns himself with filmmakers like Henri-Georges Clouzot, who explored the splintered and battered psychology of the populace of Vichy France in 'Le Corbeau.' That film is scheduled to show at the Parisian movie theatre that is central to the plot of 'Basterds,' but it is replaced with Goebbels's 'A Nation's Pride.' That film, a sort of Nazi answer to 'Sergeant York,' takes the idea of historical realism to the extreme by casting its protagonist subject to play himself, reenacting his own actions.

'Basterds' acts as a counter to "realistic" and romantic depictions of history, foregoing purported realism by instead fantasizing revenge upon those evil figures held responsible for historical atrocities and the damage to the mass psyche. Tarantino's story captures the horror, pain, and anger surrounding the events of WW2 without ever showing a concentration camp, taking as a given our knowledge and sentiments regarding the reality. He outright rejects the making of films that attempt to translate the actual events to screen narratives, accusing them of callousness and insufficiency in terms of their attempt to depict history.

'Inglourious Basterds' is a war film unlike any other that I have ever seen. There are moments that make you laugh, moments that make you cheer, and moments that chillingly remind you of the horrible events that occurred in the 1940s. Overall it forces (and this is without question, it leaves no room for ignorance or casual acceptance) the viewer to rethink the very notion of what it means to make a film about the war. It demands a reevaluation of the very notion of respectful treatment of delicate subject matter, and the concept of barbarism in terms of Adorno's use of the word.

Pitt's final words both close the film and effectively speak for Tarantino, who says "It just might be my masterpiece." I for one am pleasantly surprised to find I agree.