Review: Suicide Squad

Year: 2016
Director: David Ayer,
Screenplay: David Ayer
Starring: Will Smith, Jared Leto, Margot Robbie, Joel Kinnaman, Viola Davis, Jai Courtney, Jay Hernandez, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, Ike Barinholtz, Scott Eastwood, Cara Delevingne.

Synopsis is here:

I left the screening of Suicide Squad, took a large breath and let out an almighty sigh. Is this what’s causing all the fracas? This humdrum blockbuster? I feel we as filmgoers need to get our priorities straight. This summer, I’ve watched fans claim critics gain payment for back Disney and Marvel. I’ve rolled my eyes at the number of hot takes asking why Ghostbusters (2016) became the most politicised movie of the summer, possibly the year. Now, I watch fans once again attack film critics about disliking a movie (again this started before they even saw it themselves) as if there’s some sort of evil conspiracy. Let’s be clear. There isn’t.

Amusingly, at the time of writing, news reports have announced that the Warner Brothers feature has made such a killing at the box office that it’s broke an August record.  So there’s really no need to pile on film reviewers because most people would rather listen to marketing anyway. Reviews for these movies “made for the fans” are not for fans to read. They’ve already paid for their midnight screening ticket. Therefore, what we see is a bunch of faceless fans attack and insult movie lovers because they do not agree with what’s been written. Because of this, the story becomes about the “fans” and not about the movie itself, which in turn gains an inflated sense of self because even bad news is good news.

Suicide Squad isn’t the worst movie I’ve seen, but it’s not worth remembering either. Again, like many mainstream movies of recent times, the get behind it is more about knowledge of the brand and good marketing than movie mechanics. This is a film with a mid-level video game plot, needless characters and little building of stakes or relationships. Half of the films interactions are quips, while much of the rest is plot exposition. It’s not a film that feels organic in how it’s narrative or characters come about. At times, it feels like a rough cut than a final draft of a film. However, it has Harley Quinn (a spunky Margot Robbie) so therefore you should like it.

This annoys me. Simply because there’s more than enough elements in Suicide Squad to be better than it was. So often the film reminded me of Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel/Batman vs Superman, in that all three films are trying to remind viewers that they’re comic book movies and framing them as such. The way certain edits are slapped together wouldn’t feel too out of place in a three frame panel of a graphic novel. If I’m correct on this, then what Snyder, Ayer and the DC/Warner Brothers tribe are doing is really quite noble. The dark anti-hero angle matches up with the sombre take on these DC heroes and is a suitable contrast against the more colourful Marvel film. I enjoyed the visuals of the film (I never found them to be too dark) and I really liked the sly references to the likes of Watchmen as well as one or two of the films Easter eggs, which seem to be less shoehorned in than what we saw in Batman vs Superman (2016).

It’s important to realise however I felt this for the smaller “surprises” as opposed to the great, big whopping open air secret of Jared Leto’s Joker (the worst live action rendition in current record), or the extended cameo of a certain caped crusader whose distracting appearances seem to do little but highlight that we’re watching a DC/Warner film than anything else. It’s not impossible to cut both Batman and the Joker from Suicide Squad and miss very little, yet the marketing has done much to constantly notify people of their presence.

Instead what did get hacked to shreds is the film’s tone and pace, which ranges from shots that feel cut a fraction too short to the film’s actual (bobbins) plot and characters never really gelling the way they should. A frustration because Ayer gains some good performances from his cast. I’m reminded that while Will Smith never took up Tarantino's ask to be in Django Unchained (2012), he had the charisma to do in his sleep. Robbie’s spritely display as Harley Quinn again shows that this is an actress with presence. The character is a shot in the eye for decent gender politics, but I’m not looking for that in a film about these types of villainous anti-heroes. Robbie and Smith are bright sparks because they do a lot with so little and give the film some semblance of heart. Kudos should go to Viola Davis who should be given more to do as Amanda Waller, and Jai Courtney who from this performance as the stupidly named Captain Boomerang, should be seen in more comedic scumbag roles.

This leads us to the film’s comedy in general which is not only hit and miss (I did laugh more than the rest of the audience) but seems to be relatively unneeded. The rumours of the film firstly having a darker cut before being reined back in by the studios after the reaction to Batman vs Superman are key to the films misshapen tone. Do I need a film called Suicide Squad to make me chuckle like a Marvel film? Not necessarily. Jokes fly over the audience in a way that made me cry structure rather than with laughter. Then again, I’d rather The Joker not feel like he could easily turn up in the sequel to The Mask (1995). Again, when we consider the tone of the film, what is Leto’s character about? He’s not funny, but he’s also not that scary or sadistic. Sticking out like a sore thumb from a different movie. Moments like this happen once or twice with Suicide Squad.

I tried hard to like Suicide Squad, but it’s a film set up incorrectly for a range of bad reasons. It gives us truckloads of introductions, but because the DC universe seems to be set up more tail end first, it’s difficult to give a damn about these villains. It’s a film about violent anti-heroes but like Batman vs Superman, it knows that it can’t get “too dark”, so stumbles towards PG-13 while watching Deadpool live it up with the hack and slash. This is despite having a tone and premise which suggests otherwise. It is yet ANOTHER superhero movie with a rubbish, uninteresting villain and a city being destroyed by a blue twirling sky portal type thing. Is there a wholesale on these things?  

This is unfortunately what happens when you watch a studio try and play catch up. If fans want to attack critics for disliking the films they want to see, then fine. The fact is, it is all too easy to imagine a parallel universe in which Warner Brothers is setting up a Crisis on Infinite Earth two-parter, after Justice League 2 made over a billion at the Box Office. Marvel? Well, they didn’t get going after a badly judged Guardians of the Galaxy idea. It’s not a disliking of the premise or the comic book company, but the hesitant concern and meddling with the people making the films. The worse thing about watching a film like Suicide Squad is that for all the fans’ anger, the film does little to illustrate just why the source material is so loved. All that the Suicide Squad movie has done is remind me that the comics are probably more involving.

Review: 12 Years a Slave

Year: 2013 (U.K. Release 2014)

Director: Steve McQueen

Screenplay: John Ridley

Starring: Chiwetel Ejiofor, Michael Fassbender, Brad Pitt, Lupita Nyong'o, Benedict Cumberbatch, Sarah Paulson, Paul Dano

Note: This review is much longer than usual writings and contains plot elements that can be considered spoilers.

Synopsis is here:

I watched 12 Years a Slave in the plush Tate Modern Cinema on the day Mark Duggan was judged lawfully killed. I was a little late but was able to get a seat at the front before the auditorium got too packed. I looked back to what was a majority of white faces. The girl behind me was nattering about Buzzfeed and Kubler Ross’ five stages. 

A black group then sat next to me and a conversation began about film critic and intellectual blowhard Armond White, who recently covered himself in glory by allegedly heckling 12 Years a Slave director Steve McQueen at the New York film critic awards. Already I could see where various people’s heads were at before the movie started.

The black group’s most vocal woman was incredibly fierce in her condemnation of White, despite sounding like she's only recently heard of the notorious NYC critic, who has sounded off more than once at McQueens film. For me the most notable attack was on the Slash film podcast. Amusingly White (who is Black) was critical of McQueens ability to make a film about one of America’s ugliest eras of history as he was Black British. The irony here is by saying such things, White hints at his own issues and prejudice. With Hollywood allowed to revel in its own alteration of historical events, White's attack reeked of his often felt contrarianism that the young woman I eavesdropped on, spoke of.

There were aspects of White opinion that I half agreed with. 12 Years maybe based on a true story, but like White, I too consider it a fiction of sorts and the film doesn't touch upon the lingering grip of slavery and white imperialism in the same way of the films that White mentioned (Beloved being the main text).  

Yet why should McQueen’s film live in the shadow of what’s come before it?  Unlike White I believe 12 Years a Slave to be a demanding and important motion picture on its own terms. Whether it's liked or not (in terms of superficial “enjoyment”), one should not be dismissive of it, lest you act like the patrons of the plantation who play ignorant of the torturous suffering we see on display. I may consider the picture a fiction of sorts (which films aren't) but it's a damn good one. 

The story of Solomon Northup's story in which he; a free and educated black man, is drugged and sold as a slave, is an astonishing one. We see him examined and looked upon like a dog, beaten down, whipped and mentally broken down in a cult like manner. When ignorant racists have asked "why don't they just fight back/run" (I always find it strange how many racists perceive blacks are meant to subservient and hyper aggressive in a bizarre oxymoronic manner) McQueen answers them with a stern fierceness. Like any cult arrangement, you break down who a person is to gain control.

Black civility isn’t a dirty word, but a non-existent one. Here even blacks that are "favourited" are beaten to an inch of their life. One moment as Northup fight back against a repugnant and thick carpenter played by Paul Dano (unfortunately the weakest performance of the cast) to which he is hung up by his neck to a tree with only his toes balancing him on the soft, slippery mud to keep him from choking. An overseer makes sure he doesn't die, knowing the reasons behind the fight back may be true. Yet Northup is still left to hang despite his innocence, while those around toil and play. The same fingers and toes mean nothing; even speaking the same language brings no joy. Emotion and empathy from slaves is looked at as alien. 

The most affecting aspect of the film is the passivity of such behaviour. Slaves are considered property by religious scripture. Name and identity is beaten away.  No one batters an eye at the beatings. We see one man gives a compliant stare towards the camera before being hung. In this world, there’s little wrong with hurtling a glass bottle at a black woman but if a note is passed from black to white, hands are wiped on dresses. It's almost as if McQueen takes us to the start of the now more insidious modern ignorance. It's hard not to feel anger as hot as the blistering Georgia sun, As Northup struggles to find ways of surviving such injustice. When he is first captured he screams out from his prison bars. His plea is heard as the camera pans up and shoots against a brick wall for almost an age, before rising to the skyline and the free world. If the shot is a metaphor, it is a just one. 

Sean Bobbit’s camerawork is sublime, with shots not only capturing the fragile mood of the piece (the night work is excellent) but also using the light (and make up) to show the slow deterioration of Northup, with long close ups of Chiwetel Ejiofor’s visage, painting a vivid and haunting picture.

If the ridiculous Italian Marketing campaign told us anything, it reminds us just how distracting the films white A list actors can be. While their performances can’t be faulted in terms of pitch (both Cumberbatch and Fassbender are stunning as two sides of a sinister coin) it’s tough not to notice who these people are. When Brad Pitt arrives, his position in as producer influences his role in the film. This is something I feel important to remember, considering the geography of the actors.

That said, this is Chiwetel Ejiofor's film almost entirely. Those who follow film have known of his pedigree for years, but here he is allowed to carry a film with conviction and quiet nobility. We are so clear of his civility in his demeanour, that even at his lowest ebb, we feel his decency and most importantly his very being still resides. Ejiofor’s Northup makes judgements we may not agree with, but these actions only remind us of his selfhood. This balance of human frailty yet unyielding spirit is played though Ejiofor’s expressive face. We see the torment; we’re astounded by the emotional reserves.      

12 Year’s a Slave works best when we see Northup placed against the distress of other slaves. To see him put to the test against those whose resolve is dangling by a thread and have been considered as “property” for too long. To be told not to inform people that you’re learned (or face death), to witness women who are considered animals yet must be receptive of their masters carnal desires (Nyoong'o performance is heartwrenching). How do you hold maintain your insanity when those around you are so dehumanised?

This could possibly be more effective in turning a generation of people on the more difficult conversations of race than other narratives, mostly due to the stories entry point. Northup’ elegance and stature from the start (as opposed to Django Unchained’s straight up slave to badass narrative) help connect to where we are now to the culture. The atrocities faced often become a metaphor to sins of our recent history and present. The idea of Northup being drugged and placed into slavery has similarities from the sex trafficking stories we are told of. The examinations we witness remind us how easy it was to conduct the likes of the Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment. Both those examples dehumanising its subjects to the state of mere vessels. The aggressive evil that inhabits Fassbender’s Epps may only really be seen by people on the fringe, but the “pleasant” demeanour of Cumberbatch’s Ford lingers in the same way we observe those who completely ignore that white privilege doesn’t and has never existed. To Ford; Northup is an “exceptional” nigger, but he is still a nigger. Observe how the killings of Trayvon Martin and the aforementioned Duggan have divided opinion due the perception of the victim over the shooter. Consider the stats that state that blacks are up to 28 more times more likely to get stopped. Speak to the “right” people and you’ll still witness that people believe there’s a negative aspect to a black person because it’s simply “in them”. I’ve said so much about the film already, so I’ll stay quiet over the cotton picking scene involving Northup and Armsby an alcoholic ex-overseer.  Such scenes help illustrate how the seeds were sown.    

12 Years a Slave maybe McQueen’s most accessible film, but it’s still no easier to watch. His facial close ups still hurt; the violence causes revolution and anger.  Film has a wonderful sense of pace, rhythm and space. He also manages to make the hurt of over 200 years feel fresh. It’ll be interesting to view this again when the awards buzz leaves us. The awards season (as always) distorts readings of film and I fear the films narrative and angle will serve it well for glittery things but do little to rouse Hollywood towards the underlying issues they refuse to face. Will we observe more black stories? Will they all have to head down the same path of slavery and racial tension? Will Ejiofor’s superlative performance open doors for him and others? When we look at an even wider perspective, will 12 Years a Slave finally do what the likes of (award winners) The Blind Side (2009) and The Help (2011) didn’t and open up boarder dialogues of race? I don’t see many silent movies after The Artist (2011 Oscar winner). These questions are for the Oracle to answer.  

Armond White considered this a whitewash of the themes at hand and I strongly disagree. As the credits rolled, the predominately Caucasian crowd was quick to get to their mobiles and sighed with relief. It was back to the real world. More buzzfeed and normality. The same woman who was angry at the start was angrier now. Seething at how quick some had sat up, began natter and distance themselves from what had happened on the screen. I stayed to the end and turned round to see who else did when the lights came up. Everyone who did was black, with many younger than me. It seems we took it all in. I feel like to that woman 12 Years a Slave was more than a simple water cooler moment. This moment helped demonstrate how important this movie could become to a future. Maybe she saw the same things I saw. Perhaps the dialogue has started.

Article: Doing The Right Thing

I’m starting to hate open letters. I actually think there should be an open letter to everyone about open letters clearly stating that we don’t need any more open letters. Much like constant barrage of baby/engagement/wedding photos that litter my Facebook feed, it seems that now, an open letter must be posted on the internet to try and put a stop to a particular beef or irritation. I often have no problem with the intent of most of them. In fact; I’d probably back the topic that the writer is speaking out for. My issue is that the more you see these things, like an internet petition, they slowly become more trivial. Open letters have almost become memes. You can sense the groans as yet another ask for the school board/Tory MP/Miley Cyrus is retweeted through the internet’s many tubes to your eyeballs asking for the madness to stop.

This said I found myself alerted to an open letter that made its way on my twitter feed earlier this week. The letter is from Juan Luis Garcia, a freelance designer who writes (to influential Afro American filmmaker Spike Lee) that his initial poster work for the film remake Old Boy may have been stolen by an ad agency working on the project. Legal action has reared its head and it appears that Garcia has reached out to Spike as a fellow artist to see if he can intervene in any way. The letter talks about the money that the agency has allegedly not paid Garcia, but it seems quite clear that Garcia is asking Lee to use his influence as the director of the film to see if this can be settled in a civil and respectful way.

Lee (who  appears to be Brazil working on his latest project) had this to say:

I Never Heard Of This Guy Juan Luis Garcia,If He Has A Beef It's Not With Me.I Did Not Hire Him,Do Not Know Him.Cheap Trick Writing To Me.YO
— Spike Lee (@SpikeLee) November 28, 2013

It’s interesting to see that Spike has written the tweet in-between two celebratory communications for Thanksgiving. It’s almost as if he wished to call himself out on the irony. Then again Spike as a filmmaker and a personality, has never been one for tact.

Lee has never shied away from the controversial, yet his boldness both in-front and behind the camera has been important to so many film goers. It’s difficult to find black filmmakers or critics who have not been influenced by him. I remember gaining the only words of praise from a fellow student for a talk about him during my time at university and he became an inspiration since. Further insight in his work clearly shows just how many future stars benefited from working with him in the early days. Names like Wesley Snipes, Halle Berry, Samuel L Jackson and Laurence Fishburne may never have been known if not for Lee, who cast them in his early features. If Hollywood didn’t take a chance on you, then you got the feeling that Spike would. This includes the crew, who may not have been able to get a foot in the door in “white” Hollywood. 

For a director whose politics and confrontational style have often made him tough to embrace, one would have thought that Spike would have been less abrasive to something like this. The incident feels much like the problems that aroused with Lee when making Malcolm X. When the studios and bond company didn’t give him the money he asked for to complete the film, Spike had to inject his own cash and was able to get financial help from prominent members of the Afro-American community.

We should also consider Spike’s position before Old Boy, where work on the likes of Inside Man 2 were halted and Spike himself stated that he couldn’t get projects off the ground. Now with a film hitting theatres with talk of it being one of the least “Spike” movies in a long time and a Kickstarter project which brought many mixed feelings to proceedings, the fact that Spike’s own fierce independence has again been placed under the microscope makes the situation even more uncomfortable. This designer isn’t asking Spike himself for a handout, he’s chiefly asking for empathy.

I know young graphic designers and I’m currently in a position in which I work with one. It’s not pretty. In an age in which the audience will cheerfully download your film for nothing, studios are only chiefly interested in the next comic book cash cow and the idea of working for nothing/scraps in the media is becoming way too much of the norm, freelancers are doing what they can to stay afloat. Artistic and creative careers are still being seen as flights of fancy or “phases” despite the fact that our way of life has us engaging with them even more. If Garcia is merely a chancer, leaping on to a coat tails of a hotly debated film, then shame on him. However the question I would ask is why Old Boy? The film doesn’t look to be the runaway hit some are hoping it to be. It’s a violent and bloody remake of a superb yet cult Korean film. It’s hardly a film with deep pockets.

For me, the saddest thing comes from a brief exchange from a friend (and freelance writer) who reminded me of the one other thing that none of us really wanted to bring up: race.

If there’s one thing that ignorance thrives on, it’s moments like this; a chance to sink their teeth into a perceived flaw and show the world that we’re nowhere near evolving yet. The problem is Spike seems to be more than happy to throw a bone to his enemies. Spike once again viewed the moment as a confrontation as opposed to seeing this as a chance to help a fellow creative (or even consider this to be a great PR opportunity for Old Boy) Spike’s bluntness as done little to help anyone, even himself. Yet this is the same guy who sought an injunction for Spike T.V as it sounded too much like his moniker. This is the same Spike Lee who wrongly tweeted the address of an elderly couple, thinking it was the home of George “Trigger Happy” Zimmerman. It’s almost like he enjoys casting the first stone within his just patched up glass house. It seems clear to me that Spike can easily let these things roll of his back, yet it becomes a minefield for those who love his work. Spike is still the best known American black director and at a time were black characters in film are getting shat on by ignorance, it would be nice to have Spike tone down his “sharper” elements and remind us of the statesman he often can be. After the Django debacle (another Spike moment), the one thing I would love to see is sodality, because we damn well need it.  

This of course is in an ideal world; where freelancers don’t get screwed for their work, and if they do, the at least they can reach out to a director who will hear them out first as opposed to a 140 character cold shoulder. We can only dream. Unfortunately in reality I find myself yelling at yet another open letter and liking Spike Lee to how Chris Rock feels about Hip Hop. I love him but I’m tired of defending him.

Review: Lincoln

Year: 2012 (UK Release 2013)

Director: Steven Spielberg

Screenplay: Tony Kushner

Starring: Daniel Day Lewis, Tommy Lee Jones, Sally Field, Joseph Gordon Levitt, James Spader, Tim Blake Nelson and John Hawkes

Synopsis is here

With its 12 nominations hanging gracefully around its neck, I feel an unusual sense of entitlement to Lincoln, even if it's it's just my scatterbrained thoughts thinking it.  If Django Unchained; with its blaxploitation leanings and myth making fantasy  is the graphic novel of slavery, then Lincoln is the essay. Tarrantino may proclaim his filmmaking as non-political, but it's clear that he no fool. The sight of hip-hop's most enigmatic rebel, 2Pac (posthumously teaming up with James Brown no less) on the films soundtrack, and the near casting of one Will Smith may say different to a certain few. Lincoln on the other hand is not only about the 16th president of the United States but focuses on one of his biggest political achievements: The passing of the 13th amendment, and the abolishment of slavery.

Lee was quickly question about his view on the sandbox orgy of violence and revenge and yet no one appear to be as forthcoming to Lee's views on Spielberg's Lincoln. I feel it's safe to say that due to the two film-makers past, the desire for a heated reaction seems to be the purpose as opposed to any real conversation about the material at hand. Yet Spielberg has managed to place forth a film full of political posturing which asks for a certain amount of reverence about its subject and subtext with apparently little issue.

Django may not be a biting political critique on black slavery, but it's certainly more interested in race in the frame. Lincoln for all its congressional hearings and the like, spends what could be seen as a minimal time with black faces. Yes, the film is called Lincoln, and a powerful performance from Daniel Day-Lewis reminds us not only of the actor’s skill and talent, but the human touch that made the president the icon he became. Despite this we only gain three noteworthy moments of interaction with Afro-Americans. The first two are amongst the strongest scenes in the film, while the last (a climatic reveal) is awkward at best. The opening scene in which a young black solider ponders upon the future to Lincoln is a simple yet effective moment which boils down the very reason why the amendment should be passed. A later scene in which Lincoln and his now free house maid reflect on what lies ahead, also re-enforces such importance. These scenes; broad as they are hold the type of emotional weight that Spielberg is known for, making it a pity that through the more restrained eye of Lincoln such moments are few and far between.

That said, Spielberg does republican politics a better favour than Fox news, with many scenes deftly passing forth the massage that while democracy can be a dirty and difficult game, progression is not a dirty word. Lincoln is quick to alert that the tensions of old are not a thing of the past and the aggressive political standings seen right now, will only leave the country in more turmoil. Day-Lewis' performance drives home the human element that seems to be lacking with the politicians we see today. Others have been sniffy with Lincoln's grandfather-like meandering tales, yet without them the film would lose the humility we need to connect with him as a character. It also cuts through some of the pomp and bluster of some of the films dryer moments.

Daniel Day Lewis' performance is a striking one, yet it does little to elevate the weightless family side plot that runs alongside the politics. Supposed emotional scenes with Joseph Gordon Levitt and Sally Field are weak and do little to bring everything to the head. It's odd to see a Spielberg movie have such an awkward footing when it focuses on family aspects, yet this is a more restrained Spielberg feature which dances around some of his more typical sentiments with a certain shyness. Unlike many; I tend to warm to those moments usually due to the earnestness that they are approached with. In Lincoln however, it's just the facts with less of the blacks and of course the people have been quick to remark on the accuracy. 

Still; Spielberg (with Day Lewis in tow) manages to bring a board sense of decency and gravitas to many moments of the film.Also; while the film lacks a certain grace in it's closing segments (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter deals with the inevitable outcome with a little more subtly),  Spielberg still remains a man to go to for visual wit. The sight of James Spader, Tim Blake Nelson and John Hawkes blundering around the place like 18th century stooges is a winning one. As is Tommy Lee Jones who is bullish form. Such scenes do not outstay their welcome. 

Said moments however are diamonds in the rough of a film, that weaves in and out of important and impotence. Turgid family sequences clash with intriguing political discourse. Stand out displays, slap against struggling performances. Racial politics are the mainstay of the movie, yet the people don't seem to matter as much as the reasoning. Lincoln will serve history teachers well in the long run with its calm and sensible depiction. Django on the other hand, gives us a outlandish superhero amidst the cinematic landscape of comic book adaptations. The restraint and awards may do a lot of favours for Lincoln, yet when it comes to race in the frame Django's hip hop stylings may build a stronger connection over similar material.

Review: Django Unchained

Year: 2013

Director: Quentin Tarantino

Screenplay: Quentin Tarantino

Starring: Jamie Foxx, Kerry Washington, Christoph Waltz, Leonardo DiCaprio, Samuel L Jackson 

Synopsis is here

Thank goodness Django made all its money in the U.S already. As the cold snap bites down on the U.K, it’s clear that it’s opening box office will be affected. I however, braved the bitter winter to reach my local cinema and get better acquainted with a tall dark stranger named Django.  Snow was never going to stop me from participating in the opening weekend of Quentin Tarantino’s latest entry to his eccentric canon. The controversy behind it only sweetens the deal.

Tarantino’s spaghetti “southern”; set during America’s slave era, already had Spike Lee’s back up before the film was even released. Lee stated in a Vibe interview that the film was disrespectful to his ancestors.Lee’s remarks are reminiscent of his earlier words on Tarantino's use on the word  nigger. The film's screenplay (leaked over two years ago) not only features the word over 100 times, it also features graphic violence and racism towards African Americans due to the era it is set in. It’s easy to see why a director such as Lee would be against the film.

 Meanwhile, Tarantinofound himself; once again, being asked the questions of violence in the mediathat have plagued him since his 1992 debut Reservoir Dogs. In a Channel 4 news interview, a tetchy Tarantino clashes Krishnan Guru-Murthy over the questions being asked. The interview is a bizarre one, in which Tarantino, not only tells Guru-Murthy that he’s “shutting his butt down” but also claims that the point of the interview (for a news show) is only to sell his movie and to gain ratings for the program.

What’s interesting is that while Lee’s comments became an easy digestible sound bite (as did his twitter comments afterwards) Quentin’s shutdown of answers, along with his countless amount of times he’s had to answer this seemed to have given him a certain amount of wiggle room. The aforementioned snow will do more to put people off. All the while Lee is getting vilified by many well known black commenters.

The controversy surrounding the Django Unchained is just as murky as the film itself. Neither Lee or Tarantino right or wrong for what they've said, and Django equally places itself inside a strange and unique position. Opening up a dialogue on racism, which will possibly connect itself better to a younger generation than the likes of Spielberg’s Lincoln, but blurring its irrelevance with its combination of history, cartoonish violence and our own audience viewpoints. This is a mainstream film with a black hero and romance at its heart, but it needed Tarantino’s clout to do this. The use of the word nigger must be used to give allow the historic context to ring true. Yet, even despite being a massive fan of rap music, I questioned if the word was used to merely push the bar as far as it can go (not so much excessive, more uninspiring, strangely). That Django can push the buttons it does and still remain an entertaining affair, without getting too bogged down with such issues, is a tribute to Tarantino as a filmmaker. Django is as much an important film about race as it is an irreverent, over the top western.

The film starts with the sort of style that one would expect from Tarantino. Its opening, gestures wildly to Sergio Corbucci original Django(1966) feature with its theme song and opening shot. The original Django enters the scene seemingly out of nowhere with death on his back (signified by the coffin he drags). This modern Django carries slashes. Both are referring to the burden that has been placed on them. When the theme song references Django by name, we get the name credit of Jamie Foxx, or a shot of Foxx himself. Tarantino primes the scene perfectly; with the 1966 theme song leading the audience into what they should expect (listen to the lyrics). From this start I felt that the film wasn't going to miss a beat.

For the most part, it doesn't. The tale of Django is told with the same kind of exuberance that you’d expect from its creator.  Tarantino understands that the original film was what it was due to how it shunned sand and romantic western nostalgia for violence and mud.  Unchained goes over the same areas, with more gusto. The film has its characters trudging through sludge in the same way Franco Nero did nearly 50 years ago. Just the very fact that the mud that many of these characters trudge through in the early stages are as dirty as the themes the narrative bring up.

Sequences are wonderfully staged, with the film’s first act being particularly smart and well formed (the fainting women is a great touch).When the chambers flash, the film is nothing short of dazzling, with Tarantinoshow just how much he’s evolved in staging and using space when it comes to action. The violence itself is provocative. We see horrible savage violence on African Americans which is depicted as brutally as you would expect. Tarantino’s use of reaction shots says everything we need to know about its nastiness. The violence in retaliation is boarder, more comic and in a strange way, more cathartic. It’s hard to say I didn’t enjoy Django getting his own back. However, I was more entertained by Django’s independence. Watching him grow as a character (much of it down to Foxx’s performance) was compelling.      

But then Tarantino’s characters here are amongst some of his most engaging, with Waltz and Foxx invoke that same winning chemistry that made Jules and Vincent the poster boys of 90’s students.  Samuel L Jackson’s Steven is an embodiment of evil that comes from a very real place. Much has been said about LeonardoDiCaprio’s scenery chewing racist Calvin Candie (and he is a great pantomime villain for a piece like this), but it’s the role of Stephen that is the most troubling, a character who has self loathing for his own race. Despite the films over the top way, there is a disturbing truthfulness that comes from Stephen’s contentment that there is a racial hierarchy. The dynamic between Foxx’s Django and Jackson’s Stephen was worth my ticket price alone, an eye opening insight into the racial divide that ironically reminded me of Jackson’s role in Spike Lee’s School Daze.

Tarantino, always the hip hop director, samples a bit of all the things that influence him to create an outlandish pastiche full of flourishes of style. It’s the Peckinpah style shoot outs, the gorgeous scenery is mixed with the “badass” cool of characters like Django and the headstrong rush into such a volatile subject matter. It’s unfortunate that Tarantino’s love for exploitation takes things too far for its own good.

It’s great to see a director (be it White, Black, Asian or other) to embrace another’s culture in such a way (the film is heavily influenced by Blaxploitation as well as the Italian Genre Westerns) and yet Quentin’s love of the homage overdoes itself as it did in Death Proof. Django betrays the origins of its grind house, exploitation fare its semi based in and lacks the economy that films like the 1966 Django had. It doesn’t help that the film doesn't hold the novelistic structure that featured in Inglourious Basterds (and the tension).  You could also can argue that Once upon a Time in the West has an equally lengthy running time, but as much as I love Tarantino, he is not Leone. The film is not nearly as operatic it could be and could do with a trim, while the screenplay doesn't hold the same amount of wit and rhythm as earlier works despite some of it being quite amusing. Another weakness is the film handling of Kerry Washington who is a much stronger actress than merely a trophy to be collected.   

But there are moments in which Django shows that it’s more than a sum of its parts. To me, it doesn't just embrace black culture, but it also gives us a black hero driven by love, given his own flaws and an arc that makes him complex. Even his main relationship in the film is fascinating, growing from uncertainty, to mutual respect and beyond. The film’s use of hip hop as a stylistic is choice goes beyond doing it because it’s cool. It metaphorically calls on the difficult relationship that genre has with many also whether Tarantino believes that or not.

For me, Django is far from Quentin’s best; and yet, features so many singular bombastic moments of entertainment that the difficult second viewing has to be performed as soon as possible.  It’s also important to remember that in its infancy, the film had Will Smith as a possible consideration as the lead. While the argument on if a film like this could be made by a black director still hangs in the air (IMO it could not, 1: they’re not Quentin, 2: the conservatism of Hollywood in general)   Foxx’s performance with its nuance and swagger and Tarantino’s clout, writing and flair have once again opened up the idea that a film with a black lead (not a biopic) could open well and people would not only watch it, but enjoy it. Let’s see what happens when the U.K snow clears.