DJANGO UNCHAINED {film 3 of 9}

DJANGO UNCHAINED is a story about love and freedom.
I have to say of all the nominees for Best Picture, DJANGO was the one I most wanted to see. Quentin Tarantino is one of my all-time favorite directors, and I enjoy his films with a fervent degree of pleasure. PULP FICTION, both KILL BILL movies, INGLORIOUS BASTERDS, RESERVOIR DOGS—these are all wonderful works whose praise would be a given in any number of separate reviews. This review, however, concerns Tarantino’s most recent endeavor, for which I have praise and criticism alike.
First, allow me the privilege of bowing down in the name of Christoph Waltz, who gave a profoundly remarkable performance in DJANGO. Yes, he’s outdone himself. If you thought he could pull off an evil, unyielding Nazi in BASTERDS with flourish, then you’re in for a real treat: as a kind, enigmatic bounty hunter, Waltz enters new realms of acting genius. Jamie Foxx and Leonardo DiCaprio, too, each provided performances worthy of nominations, even if they were neglected. But more about that another day.
Now for the premise. We meet two slaveowners hustling a group of chained slaves “somewhere in Texas,” Django (Foxx) among them. Dr. Schultz (Waltz), an out-of-practice dentist who now makes a living collecting bounties, intercedes their trek and calls for a parley to purchase Django, who knows the faces of three men with a hefty bounty on their heads. After collecting several bounties with skill, Schultz and Django eventually make an agreement to continue working together until the end of winter, at which point the doctor will help Django find his wife, Broomhilda, whom he was separated from during a cruel slave auction in Mississippi. They learn she was sold to the fourth largest plantation in Mississippi: Candieland, where an eccentric man named Calvin Candie (DiCaprio) presides as slaveowner. The two bounty hunters plan Broomhilda’s daring rescue, and the rest of the film involves that plan’s execution.
Here’s what I liked about the film: the acting. Superb acting! Foxx, Waltz, DiCaprio, and Samuel L. Jackson, who pulled off Candie’s senile, long-residing chief slave, were all fantastic. I also favored Tarantino’s style. With every new film he makes, his style matures, not unlike a fine, aged whisky, and a very violent whiskey it has become. Speaking of said violence, the backdrop of the spaghetti western allowed novel opportunities for the violence-inclined Tarantino to explore, a particular treat for fans of his more gory works. Much about the film was more than satisfactory, to say the least.
Here’s what I disliked: the movie was too long. It overstayed its welcome, in my opinion. Clocking in at nearly three hours, it was too long for a film of its genre. I was also puzzled by a few choices with the soundtrack; there were a couple instances of modern rap leaking into the late 1850s setting, which is fine—it merely left me puzzled. I couldn’t help, too, wondering what statement, if any, Tarantino was making. The film is Django’s story about love and the obstructions of achieving it, in a way, but the attention given to Dr. Schultz’s character overshadowed the majority of the story’s core and begged the question. What were his intentions? Who is he really? Why is he a bounty hunter? We never find out. I didn’t like that either. For this reason, I found the story was flat. Perhaps because it lacked an engaging subplot as BASTERDS did, employing not the clever multi-narrative arc I’ve come to know and love from Tarantino but a solitary storyline with a few elements of a nonlinear plot.
Ultimately, DJANGO is a fine film, but I didn’t love it. Something was missing, I just don’t know what. It was entertaining, sure, riveting and powerful, but it lacked the “panache”—as Dr. Schultz describes a slave he pretends to try and purchase—and for that the movie suffered. But who knows? Maybe I expected too much of the film in my anticipation. But let’s be honest: can you ever expect too much from Tarantino? He’s better than DJANGO.
I rate DJANGO UNCHAINED 3 stars out of 4.
