Django Unchained
Django Unchained
Django Unchained
Regie:
Quentin TarantinoDrehbuch:
Quentin TarantinoKamera:
Robert RichardsonBesetzung:
Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, Leonardo DiCaprio, Kerry Washington, Samuel L. Jackson, Walton Goggins, Dennis Christopher, James Remar, David Steen (mehr)Streaming (6)
Inhalte(1)
Angesiedelt in den Südstaaten, erzählt DJANGO UNCHAINED die Geschichte von Django (Jamie Foxx), einem Sklaven, der sich mit dem Kopfgeldjäger Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) zusammenschließt, um im Gegenzug für seine Freiheit, die gesuchtesten Verbrecher des Südens zur Strecke zu bringen. Er wird zum erfolgreichen Jäger, doch sein größtes Ziel ist es, seine Frau (Kerry Washington) zu finden und zu befreien, die er vor langer Zeit durch Sklavenhandel verloren hat. Als ihre Suche die beiden schließlich zu Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), dem berüchtigten und brutalen Besitzer der "Candyland"-Plantage führt, wecken sie das Misstrauen von Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson), Candies treuem Haussklaven. Unter strenger Beobachtung drohen Candie und seine verräterische Bande, ihnen auf die Schliche zu kommen. (Sony Pictures Home Entertainment)
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Schade um das Finale, das sich Quentin besser überlegen sollte! Der Zusatz mit dem Abtransport ist überflüssig und verlangsamt den Film in dem Augenblick, in dem er vom Timing her explodieren und alles perfekt abschließen sollte. Außer diesem Fehltritt, den ich im Hinblick auf Quentins Drehbuch-Können nicht verstehe, handelt es sich um den besten Tarantino-Film seit Pulp Fiction. Die verlangsamte Aufnahme von den Beinen eines rennenden Pferdes, die Ku-Klux-Szene, die Interaktion von den zwei Hauptdarstellern mit DiCaprio und ihre gespannten Szenen, welche den Höhepunkt bei der Ankunft bei Samuel in der Begleitung von Goldsmiths "Nicaragua" erreichen – das alles sind schon jetzt legendäre Film-Highlights (die Ankunft bei Samuel ist für mich die Filmszene des Jahres – jedes Mal eine hundertprozentige Gänsehaut). Samuels Affen-Kreation ist vielleicht ein bisschen übertrieben, aber richtig ikonisch und unvergesslich. Waltz und DiCaprio ausgezeichnet, Foxx ausreichend. Der Soundtrack ist herrlich. Ein einzigartiger Western-Pulp mit einem einzigen Schönheitsfehler, den man beheben konnte.
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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.
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SPOILERS AHEAD. My second viewing of Django Unchained clarified some seeming structural faults (the triple ending, the ineffectiveness of the romantic storyline), but it still seemed to me that the film has fundamental problems with pacing and cohesion: the continuously changing tone is quite gratuitous, some shots and scenes stick out of the film (the double cameo by Zoe Bell as a woman watching the approaching Django and Schultz from a window and as a gang member). It doesn’t matter that the characters do a lot of talking about things for which a single shot would have sufficed – Tarantino has always been stronger at interior dialogue than narrative images, so we can understand the landscape here as serving a purely decorative purpose. What’s problematic, however, is that some of the dialogue-heavy scenes don’t push the narrative along, nor do they offer any other value added such as slowly built-up tension (which was a major component of Inglourious Basterds). The strangely edited KKK digression after the Brittle brothers are captured (the inserted flashback seems somewhat confusing at first) is nothing more than filler. One storyline concludes, but the next (Hildi) hasn’t yet been opened. The narrative stands still for several minutes. Schultz’s subsequent familiarisation of Django with the rules of the market mechanism initiates the transformation of the slave into a master, which culminates with a radical change of wardrobe. Together with the education in capitalism, however, there is the rather unnecessary (in terms of the narrative, not the viewing experience) training of Django to be the fastest gunslinger in the American south. Despite that, the multi-layered transformation of the protagonist ranks among the best instances of character development in Tarantino’s entire filmography. From the beginning, we are prepared for Django to take over responsibility from his master, toward whom he first behaves like a little boy, eager to learn what has become of his German princess. However, he gradually exhibits more and more independence, though the roles he has to play, which definitely do not suit him, prevent him from fully expressing himself (his microworld has to be subordinated to Schultz’s, with which he later comes into conflict, powerfully for the first time in the scene with the dogs). With all the more bombast in the blaxploitation-style climax, he can take on the position of head moral authority, throw off all masks (and the saddle from his horse) and, as a completely free hard-ass black motherfucker, shoot about two dozen white devils (and one assimilated black man who reveres his master more than his own mother and undergoes a similar shift in meaning in relation to his master as Django does). Finally, Django explicitly sets out to do what Tarantino does behind the camera – break down stereotypes. Most of the characters that the German former dentist and the freed slave encounter correspond to a certain archetype from American mythology or from exploitation cinema (mammy, the Southern belle, the villain obsessed with eugenics). Unfortunately, Hildi is no exception; for Tarantino, she is an unusually one-dimensional female character who is mostly allowed only to cry, scream and be rescued. Django Unchained is an incredibly stylish affair, excellent in many of its constituent parts (soundtrack, actors, punchlines) and bold in its refusal to respect the conventions of westerns (though Italian directors had much earlier violated some of them, e.g. shooting a horse and using white American cowboys as villains), but as a whole, the film is not entirely cohesive. In terms of making an impression, however, it is almost perfect with respect to the intensity of viewing pleasure and I will watch some of its scenes many more times.
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(weniger)
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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 :)
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I didn’t decide to watch this movie for the sole purpose of criticizing Tarantino again. I honestly liked Inglorious Basterds a lot and so I was curious to see what this one would bring. In any case, I knew that style-wise, it was going to be a classic Tarantino that – for a change – uses the best that western’s got to offer. The result was an absolutely unsurprising classic. Tarantino filmed it the best he could. He filmed a piece that respects westerns to the highest degree possible but makes fun of them all at the same time. It respects them with scenes that are a precise copy of some of the best western movie scenes, but it also makes fun of them, for examplewith the fact that the local cowboy is a German and he doesn’t get whiskey in the local saloon; he gets a beer instead. I’ve never seen beer in a western movie before. Also, the Ku Klux Klan scene isn’t one I’m likely to ever forget. And the cherry on top was Jamie Foxx who is an equal of every white man in the movie while the white man simply can’t ever accept that. A classic. Everything comes together to create a great movie, a typical Tarantino piece that isn’t exactly my cup of tea, but that will probablynever change with Tarantino. In any case, I’m glad that I’ve seen the movie and life goes on…
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Schwarzes Dynamit. Ein provokativer Tritt in die Familienjuwelen, den Tarantino hier der Fremdenfeindlichkeit sowie dem Rassismus im Bereich des des "White Man"-Gens gibt, wozu der Western sicherlich gehört (jedoch zeitgleich verschont er in gewisser Hinsicht selbst die "Niggaz“ nicht). Wenn ich Django Unchained denn irgendetwas vorwerfen würde, wäre es außer der Tatsache, dass einige Teile tatsächlich so aussehen, als wären sie von einem fetten dunkelhäutigen Tölpel mit einem Schweißgerät zusammengeschnitten worden, so wäre es wohl vielleicht nur der sehr digitale Look. Ich bin mir dessen bewusst, dass Tarantino den modernen Locations einfach eine moderne Patina hat verleihen wollen und ich weiß, dass er nicht unnötig von den Gepflogenheiten des Spaghetti-Westerns gebunden sein wollte, jedoch an einigen Stellen sieht Django Unchained stilistisch eher dürr aus (eher weniger stilvoll - ich denke, dass es wichtig ist Django im Kino zu sehen, um hauptsächlich im Kino zu sehen, damit man die großen Lachsalven des gesamten Publikums genießen kann). Doch damit wärs´ das bereits gewesen. Perfekte Punch Lines (hier werden keine Schläge verteilt, sondern diverse Körperteile abgerissen und in den Mund gerammt), hervorragende schauspielerische Leistungen, die großartige Charaktere darbieten, ein absurder schwarzer Humor, eine unwiderstehliche Volatilität zwischen erhabener Epik, Blaxploitation und einem blutigen Grindhouse-Film, ein dramatisches Timing, dank welchem mich Tarantino nach jahrelangem Widerstand hinsichtlich der Inglourious Basterds für sich gewonnen hat. An seinen neuen Filmen gefällt mir am meisten, wie er seine leichte, blutige und respektlose Hand gegen große Geschichte und "soziokulturelle" Konzepte richtet. Diese dunkelhäutife Nibelungen-Version, wo der weiße Stolz des KKK durch die aufgesetzten Säcke noch nicht einmal auf die Straße sieht und wo gegen die Kolonells in weiß ein biertrinkender Deutscher kämpft... nun, das Ganze hat mich in der Tat gepackt.
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Anyone expecting a regular spaghetti western will be sorely disappointed. It is more of a typical verbose Tarantino movie with western scenery than a tribute to the genre (or genres) with everything they entail. It was to be expected, but it is still a crying shame, because if anyone, Quentin should have tried to challenge the holy Italian Trinity of Sergios (Leone, Sollima, Corbucci) in their sovereign field. Anyway, it doesn't matter “what it is/isn't“, when it’s such a damn good and stylish movie. Of course, the more you watch it, the more references you notice, but ultimately it doesn't matter if you know which genre classic is referenced by the composition “Für Elise" being played on a harp in the saloon or by the other hundred allusions to this and that; Fans of Monty Python humor will also find something to enjoy in the scene involving the birth pains of a beta version of the Ku Klux Klan… There are only two blemishes. First, the length. It’s too short and therefore in many places inappropriately hurried. And then the finale which lacks a tension-building, face-to-face duel. Which is an unforgivable faux pas, Quentin!
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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 steps out of the story, the homage or the timely light-hearted mood for a moment. And whether rap plays in the soundtrack, the main hero puts on sunglasses or the irresistible Leo plays wildly over the top, I still know that this is essentially a perfect genre film. It's just that its director, despite his outstanding work, becomes a victim of himself. After the emotionally richer Kill Bill and perfectly polished Pancharts, there is simply nowhere to go in the quests for revenge and in the infinitely unsettling dialogues with a grounding progression.
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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%.
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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...
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The finale didn't come across as intensely tense as, for example, the table scene in Inglorious Basterds, but it was still very well done. Tarantino's directorial style doesn't really need praising, it is precisely because of it that people go see his films. Many viewers may not expect him to be confident in the realm of westerns, with everything that entails, from costumes and a bit of history to superbly stylised set design. Christoph Waltz leads the cast, it’s noticeable that he's a theater actor, he is very extravagant, (his character in the film is also like that, so it doesn't matter), and perhaps slightly pompous in terms, but at the same time he’s incredibly charismatic and entertaining. Jamie Foxx and Leonardo DiCaprio are as expected high-quality. It may not completely meet expectations, but it is entertaining and most viewers won't feel they've just watched a 165-minute-long film. It goes by quickly, mainly thanks to the clever story structure and the sequence of beautifully crafted dialogue scenes. The bloody finale is only for "Tarantino fans."
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Unglaublich lustig. Blutig (die Schießerei!), urkomisch und witzig (der Monty-Python-artige Ku-Klux-Klan), spannend und eiskalt (die gruselige Figur von Samuel L. Jackson). Der Film hat aber Stil und eine Geschichte, die auf Freundschaft (Waltz und Foxx sind tolle Kumpel), einer mythenumwobenen Liebe (Siegfried und Brünhild) und allgegenwärtigen Anspielungen auf Spaghettiwestern basiert. Eher im Stil von Corbucci als von Leone. Was kann man sich mehr wünschen? Quentin Tarantino hat mich definitiv nicht enttäuscht. Nach dem großartigen Kinoerlebnis, welches er mir serviert hat, muss ich rückblickend auch die Soundtrack-Kompositionen loben, die ich ursprünglich kritisch betrachtet habe (geschwätzige und rappende Afroamerikaner sind nicht so mein Ding, im Film klingt es aber super). Ich bin auch froh, dass man Johnny Cash nicht ganz vergessen hat. Ich kann es kaum glauben, dass dieser tolle Film 165 Minuten gedauert hat. Er hätte ruhig länger sein können.
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In terms of style, it’s narcissistically perfect, of course – the use of lightning, the environment (blood splattering on the flowers) and the funny close-up on details in important moments, the untraditional camera angles and the superb symbiosis of the staging with the soundtrack and the micro-events inside Samuel’s house. There are several scenes that have cult potential thanks to Quentin’s timing, the very dark humour and the awesome actors: the bloody extermination of the enemies is very cool, but for me the best is the dialogue scene with Leonard and Samuel before the reveal of Schultz and Django – you could cut the tension with a knife. As a narrator, however, Tarantino this time is a bit weaker. To be more precise, some of the dialogues don’t move the story forward much, they are mostly a showcase of intentional screenwriting exhibitionism (I can forgive that in the scene with the ku-klux-klan, which is incredibly funny, but I didn’t like the shuffling on one place before the arrival at Samuel’s place and the interlude between the two cliffhangers: killing the trio of wanted criminals and finding and rescuing Django’s wife). And although this story relies a lot on personal motivations, I can’t avoid certain doubts regarding the use of common sense: the reason why Schultz helps Django is very trivially explained and the final act of the quirky doctor is WOW in a very Tarantino way, but illogical from the point of view of Schultz himself (why would he unnecessarily expose himself to certain death?). And I could also point out to the questionable passage with the transport, where Django frees himself almost too easily (I can believe that, but giving him a gun right away?). But I can’t deny that Django Unchained is an original and very entertaining film with the most distinctive author’s signature of out times, and the final credits will leave you with an unadulterated feeling of satisfaction. And the performances alone, led by Waltz and brilliantly complemented by a devilish DiCaprio and an amazing Samuel are enough for a rewatch. The direction, on the other hand, stumbles a little this time. 80%
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Every time Travolta and Jackson slip their guns behind their trench coats in front of me and storm out of a coffee shop, Brad Pitt carves a hook into Hans Landa's forehead, or Jamie Foxx drives away from the flaming remains of a Southern ranch, I am convinced that I have just had, without question, the best Tarantino. So I need to somehow approach this differently. Thus, while Pulp Fiction is the most ideal burst of enthusiastic creativity and the strongest part of the trio script-wise, and Inglourious Basterds is again the furthest along in terms of formal referencing, which is nonetheless still fully part of the story and not mere exhibitionism, Django is the furthest along in terms of a mix of serious themes done in pulp style. Jamie Foxx here revitalizes essentially the entirety of modern African-American history, beginning with the pinched slave, where for a breach of hush money less endowed slaveholders can throw the bag at you to a fashionable dandy, combining appropriately aggressively adopted elements of white oppression, such as dress and expression, with a frustrated animosity caused by cowering under the shackles of white skin and lack of education. Which is an absolutely perfect combo with a director who is convinced that the body has 18-24 liters of blood in it and can raise 100 mega for a film that uses the word nigger instead of conjunctions in sentences and runs 165 minutes.
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I will confess straight away that when a new film by Quentin Tarantino comes out, it's a celebration for me. In 2013, there is no film that I am looking forward to as much as "Django Unchained" ("Nespoutaný Django" if you prefer the Czech name). I am also excited about the next installment of "The Hobbit", some new horror films, but nothing as much as Tarantino. This is because he doesn't release his films as often as I would like, but mainly because I know what kind of experience I will have. It's great and unique. I don't have to worry that this person will disappoint me, although he almost did with the film "Death Proof". But in other cases, he has never disappointed me. He is the one who can elevate trash to art, he is the one who delivers dialogues in a way that no one else can. There will be people who will hate him, and after "Django", there will be even more, but that doesn't change the fact that he still manages to amaze. And not just by getting fat. More: http://www.filmovy-denik.cz/2013/01/django-unchained.html
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I simply can't fail to mention a fact that has been on my mind for quite a long time (of course, I admit the alternative that it has been thoroughly analyzed before and I am rejoicing quite unnecessarily over my "discovery"), which is that Quentin Tarantino very cleverly chooses a kind of event, period, or well known environment (I deliberately did not say a historical event and did not specify an environment), in order to then demonstrate through the medium of film his own version and his ideas about the specific context and laws of that time or environment (in this case I’m not even mentioning hyperbole, since for the entire work of Q.T. that would simply be beating a dead horse). At the same time, I would be very cautious about suggesting that Quentin is perhaps making a parody of sorts (in theory, these might be parodies in part, but they have been elevated to a separate "Tarantino" genre). He says himself that he's basically making variations on his favorite films – clearly he's still more than good at it. Choosing the topic of World War II and placing a group of Jews in the story to mock and murder Nazis was as ingenious as creating the iconic figure of a black slave who (with a bit of hyperbole) massacres his previous oppressors in the setting of slave-owning America and (with a bit more hyperbole) gradually implements a new system of social order. And of course, you could objectively protest the period inaccuracies, as in the case of Inglourious Basterds, but I feel that the inaccuracies here are entirely on purpose and certainly do not stem from ignorance or a desire to desecrate historical sources. In general, I have long felt that Quentin Tarantino seeks through his films to point out the absurdities that have prevailed in different historical periods or that bind different environments (such as gangster ones), which is also the answer to why his films are usually understood and taken as very absurd, immoral, overflowing with violence, and "a wrong vision of today's world in relation to the moral values so much proclaimed everywhere". Tarantino is an extraordinary and highly intelligent filmmaker who, in his works, mocks the paradigms of different historical epochs or the perverse principles of various separated groups, and who, sometimes by extreme means, very ingeniously points out the nonsense, absurdity, or enormous superficiality of everything he films. He has had my boundless respect for such openness since the days of Reservoir Dogs.
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Django Unchained convinced me yet again of something for which I’m truly grateful. Tarantino is still on a roll, serving the audience exactly what is expected of him, keeping everyone royally entertained. The movie has all of Tarantino’s trademarks, especially gallons of blood and perfectly crafted dialogues. I had the time of my life, just like with the Inglourious Basterds, where Christoph Waltz gave a similarly brilliant performance. He and Tarantino really hit it off. PS: Tarantino's "exit" from the movie and the Ku Klux Klan scenes were perfection.
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