Django Unchained

I know I’m about to incur the wrath of many a film fan, but I have to be honest: Prior to Inglourious Basterds, I always felt Quentin Tarantino was overrated.

His proponents lavish praise on his dialogue and style, but I always saw through those trappings. Underneath all the endless talking and references to old movies, I never found any substance. What little plot his films had just seemed like ways to loosely tie together pieces of excess just for shock value, or to drop a lengthy dialogue exchange that has little or nothing to do with the story (I mean honestly, who cares what they call a Quarter Pounder in France?). For all the flash, his films were empty and shallow.

So what changed with Inglourious Basterds? For one, the film actually had a good plot. A purely fantasy plot, maybe (and one that notably alters history), but a compelling and interesting one. But moreover, instead of just aimless babble for dialogue’s sake, the extended exchanges between the characters actually had a point, subtly building tension in some scenes and making for offbeat humor in others. For all the bloody splatter on display, the movie was actually something close to sophisticated.

Well, sophisticated doesn’t exactly fit the description for Django Unchained. It’s a very brutal, bloody, messy picture, with more offensive content than you’d think Hollywood would allow these days. But along with the extreme excess, Tarantino again presents an interesting story, depicted with a style reminiscent of the Spaghetti Westerns of old. I must say, the director is starting to grow on me.

The time is just prior to the Civil War, when slavery was still rampant in the Deep South. Against this backdrop, German dentist-turned-bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) rescues the titular slave (Jamie Foxx) from a chain gang in Texas. In exchange for leading him to three fugitives, Schultz offers Django his freedom, and the two become partners in the bounty hunting trade.

Foxx adds a sort of blaxploitation twist to the laconic Man with No Name-like archetype, while Waltz is essentially a good-guy version of his charming but ruthless character in Inglourious Basterds (I got the feeling the character was made German just because Tarantino wanted to work with him again; fine by me, because he’s fantastic). The two play off each other well with quick wit while exhibiting all the qualities of classic Western antiheroes.

In fact, though ostensibly a tribute to old Westerns (the title character is even named after a character in several Spaghetti Westerns, one of whose portrayers makes a cameo), the picture actually stands on its own as a quality entry in the genre, with a few more modern touches. Still, the movie finds some time to humorously send up the genre (the most hilarious scene, featuring Don Johnson leading a dimwitted lynching party, is like a deleted scene from Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles). 

That’s about the first hour of the film. Then, the two leads travel to Mississippi and hatch a plan to rescue Django’s wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from the suave, psychotic plantation owner Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), and the tone changes in more ways than one. Here, Tarantino’s penchant for long exchanges of dialogue comes on display, and though some scenes go on a little long, they will please the filmmaker’s longtime fans. More noticeably, though, the picture takes a turn for the unpleasant in its unflinching depiction of slavery, and that’s an understatement.

The human bondage and racism on display is shocking. Not shocking like the uncomfortable feeling you get watching parts of Gone with the Wind in today's world, but turn-your-stomach shocking. In fact, it goes so far in depicting such brutality that it almost seems like it must be exaggerated. Maybe the things onscreen really did happen, and Hollywood has sanitized our vision of what slavery was really like. If that’s the case, Tarantino deserves credit for not holding anything back in depicting a cruel chapter in American history. But it seems like he's not so much trying to reflect the time as just be as mean and vile as possible.

This is especially the case with DiCaprio’s Candie, who crosses the line from a typical slave owner who sees people as property to a sadistic psychopath who takes pleasure in inflicting horrible pain. The actor’s obviously pushing to be as awful a human being as he can (so much that he actually comes to a point where it’s hard to take him seriously anymore because he’s just so over-the-top). The most offensive character, however, is Samuel L. Jackson as an aging house slave so broken that he’s arguably as bad as his master. It’s hard to tell if he’s trying to play it straight or an absurd caricature, as the character walks a razor-thin line being cruelly funny and incredibly sad. Either way, it’s appalling. Jackson deserves an Oscar just for the fearlessness in taking on the role.

So after describing all this unpleasantness, why am I recommending Django Unchained? Because all the racially obscene content makes the violent retribution—and it’s very bloody, indeed—all the more satisfying. Even the most politically correct pacifist viewer won’t be able to deny the basest pleasure in seeing such awful characters get theirs. This one requires a pretty strong stomach and even thicker skin, but for those with both, it's the feel good kill whitey movie of the year. If that statement offends you, see something else!

Best to Worst: Batman

The Dark Knight Rises, which was released to tremendous hype back in July, comes to DVD and Blu-ray today (read my full review). How does Christopher Nolan’s third and final Batman film rank among the others in the series? Here’s a look at the Caped Crusader on film (specifically live-action, full-length features; the many animated films could have their own list), from the highs to the lows.

The Best: The Dark Knight 

When it was announced that Heath ledger was playing the Joker, I was a little apprehensive at first, because he was more known as a romantic leading man at the time. My fears turned out to be unwarranted; the late Aussie was absolutely perfect. And so was the rest of the picture, elevating the comic book movie to a level of drama and craft that was unprecedented. This is the benchmark by which all comic book adaptations should be measured.

Batman Begins

Hard to believe it now, but prior to Nolan’s foray into the franchise, the Bat had fallen on some pretty hard times (more on that later). Even just an average flashy superhero action flick would have been an improvement. Instead, Nolan gave us the Batman movie we’d all been waiting for, sticking true to the comics while giving his own modern-day spin on the character’s origin, and casting a plethora of strong actors. Not only did this bring the series back from the dead, it  more or less started the "reboot", and several other series that had past their prime would follow in its footsteps and start fresh.

The Dark Knight Rises

It’s not without its flaws. There are a few too many plot points for even a two-and-three-quarter-hour movie, and some of them don’t work that well (and I personally would have liked to see at least one more movie in Nolan’s arc before he gave us an "ending" story). Also, Batman is out of action for much of it, leaving the hero duties to Gary Oldman's Jim Gordon and Joseph Gordon-Levitt's John Blake (both fantastic performances, by the way). Having said that, the movie is still highly satisfying, if just for the sheer bigger, better, brutal-er spectacle. If The Dark Knight was the series’ The Empire Strikes Back, this is a solid Return of the Jedi of a finale.

Batman Returns

This one seems to get a bad rap from some viewers. I can't explain why, because it’s actually the best of the pre-Nolan movies. True, the storyline about The Penguin (Danny DeVito) running for mayor of Gotham is ridiculous, but the film has more excitement than Tim Burton’s first entry. And while DeVito’s Penguin is quite different from the comics, he still creates a memorably creepy villain (and let’s face facts: The Penguin is a pretty lame character in the comics, anyway). Then there’s Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman.

She's more than twice my age, but still....MEOW!

Batman

To be sure, this movie gets a lot of things about the Caped Crusader right. The look of Gotham City is the best of all the movies, and Danny Elfman’s score will always be the definitive Batman theme for me. There are also some very good individual scenes, such as the hero’s reveal early in the picture and the famous “mirror” scene. Yet, the film as a whole misfires, as Burton seems to be straining for dark comedy, and it just falls flat. Michael Keaton is good as Batman, but his scenes as Bruce Wayne romancing Vicki Vale (Kim Basinger), no so much. And Jack Nicholson seems less like the Joker than just typical manic Jack Nicholson, only in clown makeup.

The other Batman

A lot of people might not know this, but the 1960s TV show with Adam West and Burt Ward actually got its own big screen adaptation way back in ‘66. In this one, the Dynamic Duo takes on the all-star villain cast of the Joker (Cesar Romero), the Penguin (Burgess Meredith), the Riddler (Frank Gorshin), and the second of three Catwomen that this version of Batman would see (Lee Meriwether). If you can tolerate the incredibly campy tone, silly storyline, and bad puns, the picture can be enjoyed as kitschy comedy. Still, it’s more a historical footnote than a necessary entry in the evolution of the character on film. Even the lightest Batman comics were rarely this goofy.

The Worst: Batman Forever and Batman & Robin (tie)

The nipples! The horrible nipples!

Everyone seems to agree that Joel Schumacher’s run is the low point of Batman in cinema (Schumacher himself actually apologized...kinda). And yet, I’ll always have a soft spot for these two, as they were my first exposure to the character on film. That’s not to say they’re good, though; they’re every bit as silly, illogical, and badly acted as you’ve heard (though arguably so bad they’re funny).  

Which one’s worse?  Well, Batman Forever gave the world that Seal song. You can decide how that breaks the tie.

Lincoln

It would be incorrect to call Lincoln a biopic on the 16^th President. The major flaw of the biopic genre (and the reason I’m generally not a fan of it) is that many films seek to merely present the cinematic equivalent of a bullet points list of the major events in their subject’s life, rather than tell a full, solid narrative. Thankfully, Steven Spielberg’s long-awaited project opted not to take this route. Instead of just giving us a rundown of all the moments everyone knows about Abraham Lincoln from history class (the Lincoln-Douglas debates, the Gettysburg Address), the film instead depicts a small portion of his life. This makes for a more complete narrative, but also gives us a stronger, more in-depth portrait of the man.

The timeframe depicted, aside from a few scenes at the beginning and end, is January 1865, after President Lincoln (Daniel Day-Lewis) had won reelection, but before the start of his second term. The Civil War was coming to a close, and the South was seeking to make peace. It’s during this window, before the war ends and his second term begins, that Lincoln pushed the House of Representatives to pass the Thirteenth Amendment, which outlawed slavery. This meant reconciling the more conservative faction of the Republican Party with the radical abolitionist faction, and also courting several Democrats who opposed such an amendment, all while keeping the news of a Confederate peace delegation a secret.

Day-Lewis, known for his incredible dedication to his roles, delivers one of the great performances in film history as Lincoln. Not only does he get the look right, but every element we know about the man from history is there, too. He was a man of great conviction and ideals, but understood that he had to work with his political rivals. He was soft-spoken and even humorous, but had the iron will to see his vision through. He was reviled by many from all sides and faced the greatest crisis the nation had seen up to that time, and yet managed to lead the country through it with cool-headed reason, intelligence, and uncanny political savvy.

With a lot of great performances, we can observe and admire the particulars of how actors perform and bring their role to life. That’s hard to do here because from the first few minutes, we forget it’s a performance because it seems like we’re watching the real Abraham Lincoln. We’ll never know exactly what Lincoln was like in person or how his voice sounded, but Day-Lewis embodies the man as perfectly as anyone imaginably could. He defines Lincoln the way film footage of the real John F. Kennedy, Ronald Reagan, or Barack Obama define those Presidents, an achievement above and beyond the normal bounds of acting.

There are a few of the standard biopic trappings pertaining to Lincoln’s family life. Sally Field plays First Lady Mary Todd Lincoln as a loyal companion who struggles with personal demons (some historians believe she suffered from bipolar disorder, and the film briefly hints at this) and family drama, while at the same time giving some human, rather than political, counsel to her husband. She brings a veteran presence to the role that is convincing, reminding us that even some of the most revered historical figures were also family men. Less impressive is Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who’s not bad in the role of oldest son Robert Todd Lincoln, but seems to be more tacked on than a major part of the story.

The more engrossing part of the picture is the political drama, as we get to see all the great lengths Lincoln and his allies went to in order to pass the Thirteenth Amendment. It depicts the wheeling and dealing that we all expect from politicians, as well as the sharp-tongued barbs traded between the parties on the House Floor. But it also shows the appeals Lincoln made to his rivals’ humanity and intellect, and the delicate balance he had to strike between seeking an end to both the Civil War and slavery. It is here that the movie becomes a compelling, sometimes funny political drama, and by the time the Thirteenth Amendment passes onscreen (I don’t think I’m spoiling that for anybody), even the most cynical person might have their faith in the system restored. It is also here that the picture drops the semblance of a biopic and becomes an ensemble piece. Great performances shine from David Strathairn as Secretary of State William Seward, Hal Holbrook as influential Republican Francis Preston Blair, and especially Tommy Lee Jones, who brings an entertaining zeal as the radical abolitionist Congressman Thaddeus Stevens. He might have stolen the show if not for Day-Lewis’ performance, but Jones still manages to hold his own when the two are onscreen together.

Coming so soon after this year’s election, could Lincoln teach us any lessons about today’s political climate? Well, not directly; the issues debated onscreen are long gone, and the Democrats and Republicans in the film are near unrecognizable from their present-day counterparts. But the film does present the timeless truth that in order to do anything of importance, you have to work with people you disagree with, and that you can do so without compromising on your ideals.

Political insights aside, Lincoln is one of the best (and apparently most accurate) films ever made about American history, and one of the best movies in Spielberg’s career.

Skyfall

Daniel Craig is easily the best James Bond, ever.

I know saying that is going to irk many longtime fans who insist that no one can top Sean Connery. Well, I mean no disrespect to the man who originated the role, or any of the other actors who've played 007 (Pierce Brosnan will always have a place for me as the Bond I grew up with). And I admit I haven’t seen every single one of the twenty-odd films featuring the character. Nevertheless, I stand by my statement.

Bond movies were always entertaining before, but let’s be honest: they were a little ridiculous. The plots were very outlandish, and some of the action scenes stretched even the typical suspension of disbelief you need for an action movie. Also, there was arguably always a comedic undertone, as Bond never seemed to break a sweat or even seem surprised by any of his experiences (not to mention all those Q gadgets, which were laughable fantasy).

With 2006’s Casino Royale, the series did away with most of that, dropping Bond into the real world of the 21^st Century. The cartoonish bad guys were replaced with harder villains whose evil intentions were right out of the news, and Craig brought a much needed edge and cunning that made the character so much more compelling. The suave demeanor and cold wit people expect from Bond are still there, but he actually seems like a real secret agent now, as opposed to a smooth playboy who just happens to defeat an evil genius while on an exotic vacation.

So, I reiterate: Daniel Craig is the best Bond, ever. And Skyfall might be the best Bond film I’ve ever seen.

The movie begins with an amazing chase through Turkey involving motorcycles and a train (one of several great action sequences), which ends with Bond apparently dead (not really, of course), and a hard drive listing double agents in terrorist organizations stolen. Soon, whoever obtained the list starts toying with MI6 head M (Judi Dench) by releasing the names online, resulting in the agents being executed by the groups in which they operate. As M faces an inquiry on her leadership, Bond sets out to find whoever stole the list.

Casino Royale and Quantum of Solace (which had one continuing story stretched across two movies) didn’t follow the standard Bond formula, as they were reestablishing the character’s origins to start fresh. This time around, Craig is firmly in place as Bond, owning the role whether he’s in the heat of battle, dropping a one-liner, or getting the ladies. But he's a much more real Bond than anyone who came before him. He bleeds, he doesn’t just walk away unscathed from a fight, and he has human feeling.

Really, this could be a metaphor for the whole movie: It’s a Bond movie through and through, with all the familiar trappings (as well as some references to movies past), and yet different from any one we’ve seen. It’s darker, and much more character-driven, building as much dramatic tension between the action scenes as during them.

The last third of the movie even departs completely from the formula and takes the story in a direction the series has never seen, as we learn a little about Bond’s past, as well as his relationship with Dench’s M. It doesn’t reveal anything too specific, leaving Bond’s secretive mystique intact (and leaving open possibilities for sequels), but it speaks volumes about how the character became the man he is. What was evident from early in Casino Royale is made very obvious in Skyfall: Craig’s 007 is no campy caricature, but a strong, fully developed character, more in line with creator Ian Fleming’s original vision than some previous portrayals.

And he’s not the only character who gets a meatier part. Dench, who’s played M since the Pierce Brosnan movies, advances from simply a dignified voice of authority to a vital supporting role. More than just his boss, she comes off almost like a matriarchal figure to Bond, as their relationship is revealed as more than mere loyalty and professional respect, and yet remains at arm’s length because of the nature of their work. Other Oscar-level talent in supporting roles includes Ralph Fiennes and Albert Finney. As the new Q, Ben Whishaw is an appropriately nerdy techno geek, but he gets to play a more active part in the action than just a scene or two of comic relief (the filmmakers wisely reworked the character instead of trying to replace the late Desmond Llewelyn, which would have been a futile task). And (MINOR SPOILER!) even Moneypenny (Naomie Harris) gets an upgrade, becoming 007’s equal and ally in the field, not just the secretary he flirts with. The way the movie takes longtime characters and turns them into major, important supporting roles is comparable to what Christopher Nolan’s Batman movies did for previously minor characters like Alfred and Commissioner Gordon.

As antagonist Raoul Silva, a cyber-terrorist and figure from M’s past, Javier Bardem makes the typical Bond villain monologue entrance, but the parallels to all the previous villains stop there. Unlike all the colorful megalomaniacal baddies over years, his goals are personal and vengeful, and he pursues them with the same brutal intensity and path of destruction he showed in No Country for Old Men. He’s easily one of 007’s most formidable foes, and one of the few who could really take him in a fight. If there’s anything to be desired, it’s that the character’s backstory sounds quite interesting, but the film only offers up small snippets. Then again, such a story could be good material for a sequel (or even a spinoff).

Speaking of sequels, the picture is just begging for them. Not only does it hint at plot points that could make for intriguing future storylines, but it puts in place and revamps the last few pieces of the Bond mythos that were missing from the first two Craig films, obviously priming the audience for more. More films of this caliber is an excellent prospect (and Craig is signed on for at least two more movies, which is encouraging). But overlooking the sequel potential, as it stands on its own, Skyfall is one fantastic movie.