I finally saw Django Unchained over the weekend, and I don't really want to get too deep into it, but I left it feeling a little less than enthused. Sure, the acting was fine and the dialog was typically Tarantino-snappy. The extreme violence didn't make me wince, but all-too-indoctrinated Samuel L. Jackson character did. I had every reaction that I think I was supposed to plus one: I was bored stupid by the end.
No question, Quentin Tarantino is a good director. He has a very distinct visual style and he certainly loves genre cinema since he's basically checking off a list of them as the years go by. But Django is simply a further symptom of the slow poison of hubris that he ingested on the set of Pulp Fiction. His movies are too long, too plodding, and they rob his visual punch with long stretches of funny, but useless dialog. I love the characters he creates, and I'm amazed at the performances that he gets from the actors that agree to work with him (Christoph Waltz, Brad Pitt, Michael Parks = genius), but, dammit, they need to shut up and do something. There was no excuse for Django to be 165 minutes, and if great work is made under some restrictions, then the Weinsteins need to start forcing him to exercise some restraint. Kill Bill worked as two movies, and I have seen them (more than once) back to back, but they were made into two movies for a reason, not matter what kind of BS you believe that it was against his wishes. Inglorious Basterds, meandered itself into a anticlimactic hole. And Jackie Brown, oh, Jackie Brown, should have been my generations Dolemite but turned out to college-era dramamine for how little motion there was in the picture.
I moan, but I do enjoy most of his movies. I just wish he'd just pump the breaks and stop making a Cold Roses when a Love Is Hell is right in front of him.
Rant over. Happy Tuesday
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