Using the mid-life crisis excuse a handful of us hit the town last night to see the latest Quentin Tarantino flick, Django Unchained. Opinion was divided over the merits of the movie. For me it was three hours of valuable drinking time lost.
Django is an indulgent piece of filmmaking by Tarantino. It bristles with all his familiar motifs: snazzy dialogue, quirky music, in-jokes, women’s feet, unrestrained violence, nods and winks to cult films of the past. Set just before the US Civil War it is an episodic, overlong, plot-holed, spaghetti western. The last half hour is a cartoon bloodbath that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the children’s musical gangster film, Bugsy Malone.
I really loved Pulp Fiction. This non-linear epic was filmmaking brilliance. Trouble is Tarantino peaked too soon. As the critic, John Simon said of Tennessee Williams “unlike the truest kind of genius he did not grow artistically”. This could also be said of Quentin who seems to be playing it for laughs nowadays. It could be summed up that when Tarantino makes a cameo appearance near the end the laugh is on us. Continue reading “It’s a rotten tomato from me and it’s a rotten tomato from him”
Boadicea's Chariot 