Django Unchained

Not much of an homage to spaghetti westerns, despite Franco Nero's cameo, rather, some kind of (commendable) anti-racist prod that doesn't even make much sense at the end. The experience resembles a sine wave, as long as Waltz is on screen with his enthusiasm, it's a treat that honours even Western rules. But from the moment we meet DiCaprio, the film goes downhill in quality, where the genre's name would best fit the phrase "typical Tarantino crap" and where the "warrant in your pocket" moment (what a coincidence!) is such a cheap, illogical screenwriting crutch that only a naive viewer can buy it. I could expect anything from Tarantino, but not a cliché like this. And the violence, with hectolitres of squirting ketchup, is so over-stylized (especially in the final carnage) that I'm actually tired of it. PS: The scene with the Ku-Klux-Klan will make anyone laugh, myself included. (13/01/2013)

I was afraid, I don’t like westerns, but I like Tarantino. Fortunately for me, Django Unchained is not even close to a thoroughbred western. It’s just a fun Tarantino movie in the Wild We… South mixed with blaxploitation. After 1200 comments in Filmbooster, it’s hard to come up with something original or interesting to say about Django, so what follows is a couple of personal incoherent rants and observations… The scene with the predecessor of the Ku-Klux-Klan is very funny. The carriage wandering around the American wilderness with a giant model of a tooth on the roof is incredibly cool. Hans Landa can be a nice guy. I wouldn’t like to run into DiCaprio with a hammer. Samuel. L. Jackson is a badass. I liked Inglorious Basterds better :) (01/02/2013)

A little inconsistent, but still the best western for the past god knows how many years. Django Unchained has three parts. The first is an enthralling introduction (the story about Siegfried), again dominated by the absolute genius Christoph Waltz. The second, wordy one, with cultivated dialogues, the amazing candy-muncher DiCaprio, who is surpassed only by Samuel L. Jackson as the (self-proclaimed) “filthiest darn nigger of all times". You can do nothing but revel in his masterfully feigned brown-nosing. The third part, for the most part an action inferno, where blood flows by the gallon, Jamie Foxx steals for himself. Personally I’m not usually his biggest fan, but here he’s perfect, he acts exactly how he’s supposed to and nails the entire development of Django as a person with ease. Camera, editing and direction are almost flawless, as is customary for Tarantino’s movies. The music is just right, mainly the old instrumentals by Ennio and Jerry Goldsmith. One of the movies of the year. Those lyin', goddamn time-wastin' sons of bitches... (07/01/2013)

I consider myself a rational man, a person of science, and an admirer of natural laws. I do not believe in water spirits and witches, I smile at the products of astrologers, and I shrug at the belief in prophecies and magic. Occasionally, however, I come across a mystery - something that clearly transcends the boundaries of our world, something that cannot be explained by logic or ordinary thinking processes. I understand why Tarantino made a name for himself with Pulp Fiction. His screenplay cleverly worked with references and pop culture, and it was innovative and funny. But as new titles emerged, the ideas from them disappeared, the effort to be cool turned into awkwardness, quotes turned into copying, and the attempt to meet fans' expectations led to a loss of sanity. However, surprisingly, his success persisted. It's hard to say what the ecstatic admirative comments stem from. Perhaps it's mass suggestion, unknown drugs, or bribes (but in that case, Tarantino shamefully left me out). In the whole movie, I find maybe two funny scenes - the introduction of Christoph Waltz and the encounter with the Ku Klux Klan. The rest is about as funny as the humor of a circus clown from the cheapest provincial circus after a few shots of vodka. The screenplay is unremarkable, relying on poorly written characters, which the director, by the way, doesn't know how to work with. The result is a worn-out, over-stylized, and clichéd film with an excessive runtime. A director like Martin McDonagh knows how to have perspective, playing with genre expectations, and pulp aesthetics in films like In Bruges or Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri, and overall is several levels above Tarantino. You can interpret Django Unchained however you want, but for me, it's a case of a decently cast, but completely mishandled film. For a long time, I tended to overlook Tarantino's self-centeredness, lack of sanity, and obvious missteps, but now he's getting the full brunt of my dissatisfaction, perhaps even for my previous disappointments. Overall impression: 10%. (24/10/2018)

Quentin Tarantino professes his love for tough guys with a gun at their waist and no matter how he reshapes the whole Western world to fit his own image, he never sets foot for a moment out of the story, the homage, or the timely light-hearted mood. And regardless of whether there's rap playing in the soundtrack, the main hero is putting on sunglasses, or the irresistible Leonardo DiCaprio is wildly overacting, I still know that this is essentially a perfect genre film. It's just that its director, despite his outstanding work, is becoming a victim of himself. After the emotionally richer Kill Bill and the perfectly polished Inglourious Basterds, there is simply nowhere else to go with a quest for revenge or infinitely unsettling dialogue with a grounding progression. (14/01/2013)