First, the black revolutionary review, because, let’s be honest: it will be the short one (and you weren’t going to pay to see this anyway): this movie won’t change anything for you. Your opinion of Tarantino will remain unchanged, your opinion of Samuel L. Jackson will remain unchanged, and as bootlegs go, you should be able to cop it at the barbershop in a day or two with minimal shakiness. See you at the meeting next week.
That out of the way, a more cine-centric review:
I enjoyed the odd rabbit hole that was Tarantino’s last film, Inglourious Basterds. Unfortunately, much of Django Unchained feels like Basterds in warmer weather, as narrative goes. Is Tarantino planning to become the Harry Turtledove of cinema? God, I hope not, because while black folks have pretty much given up the fight about white people telling our stories - alternate or otherwise - I don’t think any of us are ready for Tarantino to start shooting Tonto Unsmallpoxed.
Of course, calling Django Unchained a “revisionist historical tale” is patently incorrect. It doesn’t seek to change anyone’s impression of slavery, nor does it educate. At the end of the film, nothing has changed about the world of pre-Civil War slavery. Slavery isn’t repealed, Lincoln isn’t impeached, hordes of slaves are not freed. There is no Nat Turner mash-up, no Harriet Tubman cameo, and no one finds the Statue of Liberty buried in the sand. Slavery plods along just like it did before the film began; it just does so with one less fictional plantation. So comparing it to Basterds on the basis of this thematic element is pointless.
There are some other things this film is not. Contrary to what you may have heard, the film is also not a comedy, though there are a handful of parts that you will likely laugh at no matter who you are. And if you think you’re the Spike Lee acolyte that’s going to prove me wrong, I challenge you to sit through the five minutes of a pre-KKK midnight raid presented therein. Also, despite what Jamie Foxx says, the film isn’t a love story. While what his character does is done out of love, it is disingenuous to suggest that the film is romantic in any way. So sorry, not a date night recommendation (unless your date is into copious amounts of violence, you lucky dog you). Telling on myself, I walked into the theater ready to label it a blaxploitation flick, the kind of genre mash-up that Tarantino can’t help but stick his fingers in. And yet, it didn’t quite go all the way into those dusty, eye-rolling corners either.
Which brings us to what the film actually is, though the question is probably best answered by saying “It’s a Tarantino.” Not wishing to create a new genre of film today, especially one in aid of the Cult of Quentin, I will settle on “western.” It meets more than enough of those tropes to qualify, and the main engine of the story lies heavily on revenge, as most great westerns do. Django’s transformation isn’t from a slave to a man even deeper in love or an abolitionist, but to a bounty hunter, a vengeful killer meting out antebellum justice. Come back, black Shane.
I’ve read a lot of glowing reviews of this after seeing it. Mine is not one of them, but I can see why some people like it enough to say some of the things they have. The casting is characteristically impeccable and challenging, and some of the performances are strong. I want to give Kerry Washington an Oscar just for finding a way to keep her mouth closed for a whole shot, an annoying tic for someone of her range. The film is also to be applauded for finally compelling a performance out of DiCaprio that doesn’t make me want to hurl small children into lakes. Anything with Walter Goggins in it demands I at least consider it, and I am enjoying watching Tarantino try to jump start Don Johnson’s relevancy John Travolta-style. Good luck with that, though credit where credit is due: I liked Johnson’s channeling of Colonel Sanders as a plantation owner here.
Indeed, the most intriguing aspect of the film lies in the casting, the most compelling choice being Samuel L. Jackson as a top-shelf house slave. I want to describe why I think this is a key aspect of the film by backing up and pointing out that Tarantino originally wanted Will Smith for the lead in this film. Smith opted out (no surprise there) but it says a lot about what we see on the screen that it was Tarantino’s intention. Foxx, while a household name these days, made his bones being a foul-mouthed, ridiculous clown. Smith is pretty much the biggest black action star in the world - has been for years - and has done so while managing to never do anything that wouldn’t get him invited into most white folk’s homes. Smith is clean cut even when he’s trying to be street, polite even when he’s trying to be rude, soft even when he’s hard. Casting him for Django would have been impossible, and practically indefensible to Smith’s populist-built hype machine...but would have been a major coup for Tarantino. It was a genuine attempt to be subversive on the director’s part (which is why I’m not giving his panting critics credit for offering their “subversive” laurels too quickly; the most subversive thing he could have done didn’t actually happen). It would have made the film something other than what it is even if they didn't change one shot, and Tarantino knew that. So did Smith.
Enter Gator.
Samuel L. Jackson playing the part of the over-the-top house slave here - forget his portrayal, which is its own topic; just the CASTING of Jackson - rips off all kinds of cultural scabs. All the criticism Tarantino gets for using the word “nigger” in his films largely lies at the feet of Jackson, who is the one saying it 99% of the time. Jackson knows it rankles people and he doesn’t care. And in 2012 as a house slave purposefully (and unnecessarily) darkened up, self-hating, and kowtowing slavishly to his master, rattling off the word more in the last 45 minutes of the film than the first hour and a half. And guess what: Jackson still doesn’t care what you think. Casting Jackson as a house slave is, in fact, kind of subversive.
And about the word “nigger” in Django, because it must be pointed out. Tarantino hasn’t revised history to include the word “nigger” here, in any amount. It was the mid 1800s; everyone said it everywhere. You shouldn’t be asking why Tarantino uses it so much in Django Unchained. You should be asking why you practically never heard it in Roots. I mean, we all know the answer to that question, but I’m sayin’. “Nigger” in this film isn’t gratuitous. “Nigger” in rap music is gratuitous. “Nigger” in street conversations is gratuitous. “Nigger” in Django is, unfortunately, a bludgeoning reality. While we can question whether or not Tarantino chose this subject matter to poke us all in the eye on the matter of the word, to engage him or the film about its use out of the context of the film’s setting only starts a debate you’re going to lose. If you don’t want to hear the word “nigger” a hundred times in a film, don’t go see a film purportedly about slavery.
Not that this movie has enough history to qualify as a history lesson. Let me reiterate: Django Unchained is not a history lesson about slavery. It brings nothing new to the subject of slavery. It doesn’t even show the most harrowing or gross depictions of slavery we’ve ever seen on film. It’s not an rated-R Roots. In fact, despite it grotesque violence, it doesn’t show a lot of things we know about slavery: Tarantino depicts no rapes, no auction blocks, no sleeping with the master, no slave ships…none of that. It’s a western film that takes place during slavery and uses the imagery and themes of slavery to create an anti-hero action hero. If this film shows you something you didn’t already know about slavery, you missed a cold February day back in middle school. Oh, and Mandingo, you missed that (which wasn’t even real, but whatever). And Roots or Buck and the Preacher or Amistad. If you’ve seen these films, you’ve seen this film, but with fewer guns and even fewer jokes. Quentin Tarantino has certainly seen these films, and it shows.
So: Is the film bold? Sure. YOU try being a white guy in this country doing an action film about slavery. Is it subversive? Not so much. Nothing new here, as action, western or slavery films go, and combining them doesn't make it automatically subversive or even sinister. Is it stylistic? Not really. Gone are the Tarantino non-linear storyline and even the monologues are much shorter than typical Tarantino fare. Is it racist? Not in its execution. At the end, it’s not Tarantino’s worst nor is it his best...not even in his top five. It’s a fairly straight-down-the-middle film that could have been shot by just about anybody given the same script that a lot of people are reading a lot more into because of its director. What Tarantino brings to most of his films isn’t really present here, and at nearly two and a half hours of running time, I don’t know why.
Ultimately we’re left with a decent film that touches on dangerous cultural territory, but touches so lightly that it leaves no mark.