Django Unchained – a review of some sorts

I know I am late to the party, but I just saw Django Unchained and it exceeded my expectations.
In a fit of fury, I went to the cinema Saturday morning, at 11 am, to meet my beautiful Tarantino. At first, I thought I have the room all to myself, but in the end I found out that 3 is indeed a lucky number.


Warning! This will not be a review per se, but I will list what I loved and what I didn’t about Django Unchained.

I loved the acting. I found Christoph Waltz a bit overrated, even though funny, but one-dimensional in his role as Dr. King Schultz.
I found Jamie Foxx‘s role as a taciturn, sensible and perseverant nigga, a man of great strengths with few weaknesses, very realistic, even though a bit exaggerated.
I found Kerry Washington unexpectedly good. I thought she was just pretty, but the whipping scene really made me cry.
I thought Leonardo DiCaprio was playing himself, an arrogant SOB with money, boredom and semen to spare.
I found Samuel L. Jackson amazing as a racist slave, but when is he not amazing?

I found the story believable. Love and slavery don’t go hand in hand (for practical reasons, of course), but sacrifice and love do.
It’s all about principles, whether you’re a dentist turned bounty hunter, or a slave turned bounty hunter, or a slave and that’s all, or a white rich boy without a soul.

I really loved the scenery. It looked almost vintage and so not-professional. I liked the rolling credits, rolling credits everywhere!

I loved the music and the costumes, but I must admit I loved the music more.
I loved the fights, and all the shooting.
I loved its pace, cause I knew there was something wrong with the pace in the second half of the movie (thank you, internet!), but I found no such nuisance.
I loved its ending, perfect for the story. I felt that everyone who needed to be dead (yeah, including Schulz) was dead. It did the whole movie justice.

What did I not love? Easy to say. Tarantino as a dead beat guy – he acted horribly and his belly was fat. Also, Jonah Hill playing himself: a big fat doofus.

All in all, a 10 from me. Best movie in years.

PS: I think, just think, that it was better than Pulp Fiction. I will re-watch them both to have an honest opinion.
PPS: I like it when Tarantino (re)writes history.

Pic from here.

Inglorious Basterds

Inglorious Basterds. Veni. Vidi. Vici. Liked it and bored me at the same time.
Tarantino se joaca – pentru el, totul e o joaca. Pop culture, mituri explodate, efecte speciale, spaghetti western, mexican standoff si un negru vorbitor de franceza, cuplat cu o evreica blonda, intr-o Franta sub ocupatie nazista. A da, si toata lumea vrea sa termine razboiul. Inclusiv Hans Landa, „Vanatorul de Evrei”.
Filmul e structurat pe capitole, iar primul prezinta o mirifica scena pastorala, tatal si cele 3 fiice, vizita lui Landa, moartea evreilor ascunsi sub podea, fuga Shosannei. Promisiunea de revedere si privirea de nebun a lui Landa. De fapt, personajul cred ca se confunda cu actorul, caci si in viata de zi cu zi Chrsitoph Waltz are aceeasi privire de nebun.
Cel de-al doilea are impact asupra damelor – asistam la scalpari si la batai cu bata, apare si brad pitt pe-acolo, si Eli Roth – care pare foarte masiv, probabil datorita batei pe care o manuieste cu iscusinta. brad pitt face un rol mediocru, demn de un debutant de liceu, dar asta e… Betia are si ea pretul ei.
Al treilea capitol se joaca cu o pseudo-romanta intre Shosanna si eroul „natiunii”, Frederick Zoller, si aproape ca o arunca pe Shosanna in „bratele” lui Landa. De Landa sunt sigura ca stia ca e Shosanna in fata lui. Cred ca a fost primul semn de „revolta” din partea lui.
Ultimele doua capitole reunesc in ele ideea de „ce-ar fi daca…”, placerea pentru comploturi si o viziune aproape idealista de a termina razboiul prin moartea lui Hitler. Tarantino isi permite sa joace ping pong cu istoria, pentru ca el n-a vrut niciodata sa rescrie istoria, ci a preferat sa o nascoceasca singur. Hitler a murit – ca un sobolan, toate personajele care au contribuit la moartea lui au murit si ele la randul lor, doar Landa si Aldo Raine au ramas in viata, americanul printr-un happy end provocat stupid de naivitatea neamtului, si neamtul care a fost salvat de „marinimia” americanului cu accent de redneck si apucaturi grotesti.
PS: cine n-a inteles nimic din povestirea mea, sa mearga la cinema. Miercuri e seara Orange.