There is something intoxicating about film and stories that are shown on a screen. Stories have always gripped us as humans, but there is nothing quite like seeing a story acted out in front of you. You are not merely hearing words, you are not only seeing pictures, this is not some bard singing you a tale of glorious battle; you are watching the story as if it were happening before your very eyes.
It is as if it were real. As if it were fact.
This is one of the reasons that I handle messy stuff in books far better than in film. The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo as a book was gripping and a rather fun read... the movie, however, nearly traumatized me.
Now, I’ve made it no small secret that I am a fan of Quentin Tarantino’s films. I’m not really sure which one is my personal favorite, but there is a certain energy about his movies that fascinates me. (I’ve discussed this before in my essay “Lust for Life.”)
So when his new movie, Django Unchained, came out and won rave reviews, I was eager to see it. My new fiancee, being a fan of heroic type, bloody action movies, seemed more than willing to go see it with me. So, with a free evening on our hands the day after Christmas, we decided to go see it.
One other thing that you should know in order for the following to make more sense: my fiancee has ADHD. For several years I was extremely skeptical that any such thing existed. America is overmedicated, I am sure no one will disagree with that, and I had always assumed that ADD and ADHD were just parents going crazy and not wanting to train their children properly... choosing to drug them instead.
...I was wrong.
Until about 12, Leslie had undiagnosed ADHD, which mostly manifested itself in causing her to become overloaded with stimuli far too often. At 12, however, she had meds prescribed in order to control the rapidly firing synapses, and generally calm her down. Being an extremely bright child, my fiancee began to notice how much different she acted while on medication and how much she hated being on medication. Being the bright lass that she is, she discovered that she teach herself to control her brain and act like a normal person without the meds... thereby foregoing the need of them. So, the meds lasted for six or so, and she has self-medicated with self-control ever since... something that she tells me not all ADHD people can do.
Under good circumstances she can control how focused she is, and is generally very good at paying attention. Also, being a woman and ADHD, she is also incredibly good at multitasking (something that continues to perplex me to no end). However, when there are TVs blaring, people rushing by, horns going off and other such noise... she can become extremely distractible and it is often impossible to carry on a conversation with her. This is why watching movies at home is sometimes hard for us, because I will inevitably hone in on the movie, while she will be paying attention to everything and anything but. (Of course, because of her aforementioned ability to multitask, she usually knows exactly what is going on in the movie.)
In a movie theater, however, her ADHD works in the complete opposite direction. Because in the case of my dear fiancee, her “attention deficit” is more like “pay extremely close attention to everything that is going on around you.” And what is the only thing to pay attention to in a movie theater where everyone is behaving themselves? The screen.
In retrospect I should have known better than to take her to see a Tarantino film. Several months ago we went to see a David Koepp action flick. I personally loved it; it was perfect for an adrenaline junkie like myself. Leslie, however, nearly had a panic attack. I failed to realize that the movie, taking up all of her ADHD, overanalyzing, hyper-focused nerves, caused her to become super focused and invested whenever we went to see a movie on the big screen. So of course, anyone knowing anything about Quentin Tarantino could have guessed how she would react to the third act of one of his films.
As I write this now, however, I am actually quite grateful to her. If she hadn’t tagged along, I might have a far less critical view of what is sure to be one of the most talked about movies for the next few months. My reaction leaving the theater might have been more akin to a fanboy’s than a discerning movie goer’s had she not been holding my hand as we left the cineplex.
Now... on to my review... and as always.... spoilers to follow.
If I recall correctly, Leslie laughed harder than almost anyone at the opening scene of the film... which involved a German dentist, a tooth bobble-head, and two slave traders getting shot. Yes... this is a Tarantino movie all right. And in fact, the first 2/3rds of the movie unfolds like a hilarious, yet bloody, buddy comedy featuring Christoph Waltz and Jamie Foxx.
But then, of course, the third act kicks in, predicated by a classic scene of only dialog and no music or bullets. At this point, Leslie, having never seen a Tarantino movie before, knew that something bad was going to happen... even though no one was doing anything remotely violent. It still amazes me how Tarantino does this. I was even shaking a bit, and I wasn’t the one entering a sensory overload induced panic attack.
A rudimentary summery of the plot might go like this: Bounty hunter buys slave, slave helps bounty hunter, bounty hunter frees slave, slaves tells bounty hunter about his missing wife, slave and bounty hunter save said wife. Simple, no? Simple enough in a way, but it is in that very last plot element where the film so drastically changes from buddy comedy into morally queasiness inducing bloodbath.
Let me explain: for most of the movie (the parts that Leslie liked) there is this sort of warmth between Django and Dr. Schultz.... nearing a father/son relationship. There is some genuine chemistry between them, and I am sure that Leslie was hoping they would walk off into the sunset together, as was I (although she told me afterwards that given the way the movie was set up, she knew one of them was going to die).
There are three linch pins which swing the movie from comedy to tragedy, however: two conversations between Django and Schultz, and a man being eaten by dogs.
The first conversation takes place when a reluctant Django fails to shoot a wanted criminal because the man’s son is present. Schultz tells Django that in his world, the world that Django has now entered in order to rescue his wife, he must “get dirty.”
And so the morality grays a bit.
The second conversation transpires as Django and Schultz are on their way to the plantation where Broomhilda, Django’s wife, is being kept. In order to get into the plantation, Django and Schultz are passing themselves off as two slavers looking to buy a prizefighter of a man. This is all a ruse, of course, but in order for it to work, Django must pass himself off as a black slaver... the “lowest of the low” as he puts it. Schultz has instructed him several times now that when in these positions, he must NEVER break character, no matter what. And Django doesn’t.
He plays his character so well in fact, that Schultz becomes uncomfortable, and asks Django to tone it down a notch. Django simply retorts that it was Schultz himself who told Django that he needed to “get dirty.” Schultz backs off, and they proceed towards the plantation.
The morality darkens further.
The third pin is the kicker, though. As they are making their final approach to the plantation, they stumble upon a slave who has been caught running away. The plantation owner (who is escorting Django and Schultz) toys with the man, pretending to have sympathy, while at the same time threatening to do him in. Schultz, feeling sorry for the man, offers to buy the runaway slave outright in order to save him. Django, however, interrupts Schultz to tell the owner that they don’t REALLY want to buy the slave, Schultz is just tired of the owner toying with the man and wants to move on.
The owner grins maliciously and then sics the dogs on the poor man. Schultz, while hurt and disturbed, says nothing. It is at this point that Django’s transformation from a man trying to save his wife into a monster like the slave traders around him becomes complete. His “charade” has become so convincing that even he nearly believes it himself. No one’s life matters anymore, save for his wife.
This is the reason, I believe, that it is in perfect keeping with the theme of the movie that Schultz dies before the end... because he has become less violent, he has become soft and kind... and there is little room for such people in Tarantino’s films. As has been said by his long time collaborator, Samuel L Jackson, Tarantino’s films are a peek into the minds of violent people.
So, in the end, Django is classic Tarantino. And that is why Leslie had such a negative reaction to the ending... and I must confess that I have had similar reactions.... (especially to one Doctor Horrible’s Sing Along Blog). Hyper focused, and hyper invested, she wanted Django to turn into something other than a monster, but in order to survive in the world of Tarantino, one must become a monster.
As was said in one of the trailers before the movie: “One day, kimosabe, good man must wear mask.” Schultz, the only truly honorable character in the movie, refuses to wear a mask... and as such, he dies.
To quote another movie: “You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.”
Tarantino as explained by the Nolan brothers. You’re welcome.
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