On the Inconsistencies of Tarantino with Django Unchained

A consistently polemic figure, Quentin Tarantino’s latest, Django Unchained highlights the divisive director’s inconsistencies as a filmmaker. At points brilliant, at others dull, Django Unchained displays, once again, the breadth of Tarantino’s cinematic awareness in its style and substance.

Django Unchained follows the story of freed slave Django on his quest to free his wife from plantation owner, Calvin Candie. The inconsistencies within the film lie not only in Tarantino’s style and audience awareness, but also in the content.

At close to three hours long, the double climax of the film feels like a slap in the face, especially as the latter climax lacks any of the wit of the first two hours. It is a strange move to make as the film looses two of its most interesting characters and becomes entirely violence with no intent. Such inconsistencies in how an audience will interpret his work are why many Tarantino film since Jackie Brown (1997) suffer from repeat viewings. 

Audiences know from Inglorious Basterds (2009) that Tarantino plays it loose with history and this is no criticism as he had no responsibility to be accurate, but this is not the issue in his handling of America’s slave trade. Tarantino offers us, with Django Unchained, a virulent criticism of white America and on screen we are presented with images of slaves being forced to fight to the death, being ripped apart by dogs and kept naked in a steel box in the midday heat; all powerful, deliberate and contentious images. Yet this is not a film about the slave trade, it is a film that uses the slave trade to its advantage. The loquacious speeches, stylish aesthetic, anachronistic music and cartoon violence serve as constant distractions to the simple slave turned freeman narrative. It is difficult to make a serious point when heads explode in gushes of red and characters are blown, exaggeratedly away by gunshots. This is as much as film about slavery as it is a film dedicated to a single genre.

As with all Tarantino films it has moments of sheer brilliance that used to be unidentifiable simply due to their ubiquitousness in his first three features. The Ku Klux Klan arguing over the eyeholes in their hoods is hilarious and the first hour where Django and his German partner search for the Brittle Brothers is gripping. Yet as a whole piece of work, just like Tarantino’s output since the late 90s, Django Unchained doesn’t work.  

On the Power of Les Miserables

Musicals belong on the stage. This is not some cinema snobbery, but a matter of form. Cinema relies on the audience to suspend their belief or reality and invest in those offered by the narrative at hand. Whether it’s a philanthropic scientist bringing dinosaurs back to life or a 1930s gangster running from the law, if we don’t feel enveloped in the world on offer, it’s difficult to really like a film.

Les Miserables suffers this fate. Tom Hooper has created a sumptuous world on film and allowed fans of Les Miserables to see the world brought to life in a way not possible on stage. Yet, on stage we, as an audience, have certain expectations – an orchestrated, singing narrative – that musical theatre provides. These same techniques on film, even though we go in expecting them, are difficult to accept. The story, the songs, the characters may be the same, but the experience is entirely different.

This is not to wholly discount Hooper’s Les Miserables; it is a steamroller of a film. Aesthetically, Hooper and his team have created something special. The film is incredibly well acted and the characters and narrative entirely gripping. At two hours forty it drags and the last thirty minutes feel as long as the first two hours combined. As a film it is difficult to like Les Miserables, but impossible not to be dragged along by its powerful impetus.  

On Gangster Squad

Channelling The Untouchables (1987) and, in its mismatched group of heroes, Avengers Assemble (2012), Gangster Squad is as impressive as neither and chooses style over substance. A sociopathic East coast gangster takes over Los Angeles reeking violence and corruption over the city. The honest and incorruptible chief of police recruits a group of LA police officers to leave their badges at home and take the fight to the gangsters. What results is a series of messy and violent deaths and messier character development.

The characters are introduced in a way that echoes a trashy, power ranger’s style show. We meet them in their environment performing a magnificent seven-style skill (knives, guns, technology) before we move on to the next. This doesn’t suit the seriousness of the story and results in a complete lack of investment, emotionally and narrative based, in the characters.  

The most interesting, but unfortunately rarely explored aspect of Gangster Squad is the idea of post WWII syndrome; the question of where do these violent men fit into a civilised world when all they’ve known for the last several years is fighting and violence? Some go the way of the gangsters, but what of those that chose good, how do they fit into society? The film attempts some exploration of these themes and is at its best when it does, but ultimately it succumbs to cheap and easy genre clichés. A waste of such a talented cast.   

On Issues of Mental Illness with Silver Linings Playbook

A couple of years ago a film was released that dealt with mental illness with such delicacy and brilliance that it went unnoticed. That film was Take Shelter (2011) and that it was a small budget film staring Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain before they became more in demand most likely allowed the director, Jeff Nichols, more freedom.

Silver Linings Playbook is what happens when you deal with the same issues but use ‘A listers’ and upcoming favourites, in this case Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence. Playbook therefore lacks the subtle handling of Take Shelter, instead opting for large, melodramatic performances to communicate the issues. Yet, it carries expectations that Take Shelter did not. A film staring such popular actors (and with Robert De Niro in a supporting role) is expected to reach a wide audience and must therefore be more audience friendly.

So what we get with Playbook is an audience friendly interpretation of mental illness. A large, loud, sexy film with good performances and a happy ending most notable for De Niro displaying the brilliance that has made him one of the 20th century’s greatest actors. 

On the Top Ten for 2012

Looking over this year’s list reveals a dominant American / British filmmaking year. The top ten are made up of six American productions, one Canadian, two British and a French film. No documentaries, all fiction feature films. However, subject matter does vary and an exploration of fascinating characters is key as all ten films explore layered, complex people. And it is with this in mind that the number one film earns its spot. Rarely are two such interesting characters captured on film.

Missing out this year were a couple of big budget adventure films (The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey and The Hunger Games), neither coming during the summer months, which this year were disappointing. Shame and Carnage also deserve another mention for breaking the rules and creating exciting cinema.

The top ten for 2012 is therefore:

The Master (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

Killing Them Softly (dir. Andrew Dominik)

Moonrise Kingdom (dir. Wes Anderson)

Take This Waltz (dir. Sarah Polley)

Anna Karenina (dir. Joe Wright)

Shadow Dancer (dir. James Marsh)

Rust and Bone (dir. Jacques Audiard)

The Descendants (dir. Alexander Payne)

Looper (dir. Rian Johnson)

Magic Mike (dir. Steven Soderbergh)

The Master was an absolute standout and will surely become an American classic. The rest of the list was far more closely contested, but all highlight a cinema that focuses on story and characters and if nothing else displays the fact that 3D technology is yet to produce a standout film, instead being more noticeable for its wow! factor.

The story is what remains.