Django Unchained and The Fine Line Between Absurdity and Reality

So Quentin Tarantino made a movie about slavery, except it isn’t.

Not most importantly, I think.

Django Unchained (which will be called Django for convenience’s sake) is Quentin Terentino’s latest film, as of this writing, and in its short time in theaters has already gathered plenty of foot and praise alike, perhaps most notably Spike Lee’s  reaction. I don’t feel I that I have to give Django, its creator, or other people’s reactions any sort of long-winded introduction. Others far more capable than I have already done so, and above all I will argue it’s just a really entertaining film worth the long running time (approximately 165 minutes I believe).

Fair warning; SPOILERS. I don’t consider this a review of the movie because, again, others more capable and qualified than I have already done this and will do so. Instead, I’d like to critique it and point out what I saw at work, and am interested to see what lights up in the cavernous recesses of your brains. As such, I assume you’ve already seen the movie, as I have, and I can use the material as a reference point for my arguements

I’ll begin with what I immediately struggled with at first; racism. It is impossible to make a movie set in the antebellum south and ignore racism (unless the movie is just really fucking racist) and Django is no exception. One fairly common reaction I’ve noticed to Django is that the movie is disrespectful. A blaxploitation/spaghetti-western mash-up set in 1858 directed by Quentin Tarantino? I see where this knee-jerk reaction comes from, but Django addressed racism with great delicacy, avoiding preachyness or ham-fisted condemnations, even though it is not a movie primarily about racism (more on this in a bit).

Tarantino’s movies always feature ridiculous over-the-top violence, and once again, Django is no exception. The very first scene reminds us of this when one of the Speck brothers’ brian matter is blown to red jell-o by one of Dr. Schulz’s gunshots and the other Speck’s brother’s leg is crushed (accompanied by appropriate crunchy sound effect) underneath a dead horse. The violence in Tarantino’s movies has always been over-the-top, dramatized, a bit surreal, encouraging us not to view the action as realistic. In some cases it is glorified; certainly Django’s incredibly well-done shoot-out with all of the hired guns on the Candie plantation in the Big House attests to this. But Django’s approach to violence differs in one key way from Tarantino’s usual depiction of violence.

When the violence is directed toward innocents, particularly slaves, and performed at the hands of the cruel white slave-owners, its tone changes completely. The “Mandingo fight” we see when first introduced to Calvin Candie (great job, by the way, DiCaprio. Almost steals the show from Christopher Waltz) is not over-the-top. It is not accompanied by any of the film’s genre-appropriate soundtrack. We don’t see any gallons of blood flying around like the splash zone at a Shamu show in SeaWorld. Instead, we see two slaves, sweating and bleeding and clawing at each other. The action is not glorified, aesthetically ‘cool’, and truly cringe-inducing. It is brutal, realistic, and not easy to watch. This tone appears again when we see Django’s wife whipped and the runaway slave torn away by a pack of dogs. Django does not invite its viewer to enjoy this violence, as it does when Django kills his former slave overseers, for example, or any of the other “justified” violence. Django makes it very clear this is wrong, and it is no coincidence this tonality appears when the violence is the result of slavery. In this way I believe Django encourages to the audience to feel that slavery is wrong, rather than merely telling us so (which Dr. Schulz’s character does, anyway, I think).

Django Unchained consistently treads this line between over-the-top satire and the horrors of slavery. I do not believe this is disrespectful at all, because Django knows where this line is drawn and never oversteps its boundaries. Another example of this, besides the movie’s dichotomy of violence, is the use of the word nigger.

The movie’s use of the word nigger particularly interests me, because I believe the evolution of its use in the movie mirrors the evolution of its use in our own world. In the beginning of the movie, white racists use the word very clearly as a racial slur. Dr. Schulz, one of the very few (only? I can’t remember at the moment, but I will clarify once I see the movie again) whites in the movie who is not a racist, only uses the word when he must blend in with other white racists for the purpose of aiding Django in his quest to save Django’s love, Brunhilde. Django himself, at times, even uses the word when referring to other Blacks, and it seems like he does this because at the time the dominant, white supremacist culture of the time only allows him to see his own race through the dominant culture’s very bigoted, biased eyes. Samuel L Jackson’s character (another great performance by the way) Stephen the “Head House Nigger”, uses the word with the exact same connotation and intent the white supremacists of the cast use the word.

           

Perhaps I’ve been paying attention to much in Sociology, but as the character of Django grows stronger (he learns to trust in his gunslinging abilities, gains confidence in his friendship with Schulz, etc.) his usage of the word seems to change. In a sense, I argue, he reclaims it. He uses the word not so much as an insult but simply to refer to others, even if they are not black. I refer most famously to the very final scene when he returns to the Big House to exact his revenge. After firing six shots, Billy Cash (the racist asshole who tried to cut off Django’s balls, remember?) claims he has counted six bullets and seems confident, but Django confidently quips, “I count two guns, niggah,” and shoots Billy Cash with said second gun. Besides making for an excellent exchange, it is also demonstrates the transformation of the word nigger in the movie. Even its very pronunciation changes; nigga. I read this as Django’s acceptance of his racial identity, and it is that confidence and strength that allows him to defeat his oppressors and save his lover.

All that said, I feel Django handles race very well. Tarantino seems always aware of the limitations of the oddball niche of a genre he’s carved for himself, yet is not afraid to confront the viewer with some fucked up shit. Because the movie is able to balance its satirical elements and more serious elements with such sincerity, it never feels offensive or like its “missing the point”. The movie is by no means a realistic depiction of racial relations in the antebellum South, but it certainly adopts an appropriate and empowering depiction of race.

But despite this, I don’t think Django is a story about race, and that is where it succeeds so well in my book. It’s really a form of the Hero’s Journey, the great Monomyth that is simultaneously overrated and responsible for some really great stories. It is a story that transcends cultural boundaries and very well told; anyone can enjoy it and relate to it, be they victim of America’s racist hegemony or not. (Though maybe that’s a story for another time…)

Think about it. Django is called to his adventure by Dr. King (get it?) Schultz, literally unchained. In a way, this help is supernatural for the antebellum south; a racially progressive white man in the south that can recognize Django as a person despite the color of his skin, and also seems to bestow upon Django some inhumanely badass gunslinging skills ala the original Django (See Franco Nero)? That’s some supernatural shit. Schultz serves as both helper and mentor, and finetunes Django’s skills through a winter of bounty hunting; Django hereby faces his Challenges. Django faces his temptations in Candieland, where he must keep his anger controlled in the face of blatant racism and abuse in order to have a chance at saving Brunhilde.

Then Django falls into the Abyss; Schulz snaps and kills Candie, rendering their plans pointless and Django is captured and again sold into slavery. But Django has already undergone his Transformation; he is not the same man he was before, and is able to trick his captors into setting him free and returns to the Big House to exact revenge. He also has at this point a Meeting with a Goddess; Brundhilde, his lover, at long last. Now with all that he has accrued on his journey, he is able to finally defeat his oppresses, the destruction of the Big House both a literal defeat and a metaphorical destruction of the south’s system of slavery. All this accomplished, Django is able to return, with Brunhilde at his side, not to the plantation where they likely met, but their true original forms as human beings; as free!

The entire point of this little plot breakdown was to try to illustrate what I think is the brilliant design of Django’s plot. While the presence of all of the elements of the Monomyth do not necessarily an excellent story make, they do ensure the story is balanced. Django is able to balance its most absurd and most serious themes very successfully, partly thanks to its excellent plot I have just outlined. Part of the reason the Monomyth is so common in our storytelling is because, on a human level, it engages some of our strongest emotions; love, lost, anger, fear, etc.

Django is more so a movie, I contend, about White Supremacy than racism, necessarily. The antebellum south is certainly a great place to set such a critical discussion on, because never has a certain culture embraced white supremacy like the antebellum south did (except maybe the Barack Obama’s Dead Fly Facebook page and the Stormfront message boards). I use the character of Dr. King Schultz to support this argument, and it is not only Christopher Waltz’s fantastic performance that makes this character so central to this particularly element of Django.

Besides the allusion to certain other Dr. King, Schulz is a fantastic character to place in the world of Django. A white man who, by dint of appearance, is able to easily blend in among the white supremacist culture of the antebellum south, yet his ideals are very different.

(Before I go on, I’d like to point out a very subtle idea Tarantino plays with here, the idea that race and everything it brings with it is only skin deep rather than a social construction. By that, I mean simply by being white colored like Dr. Schulz, other characters of the antebellum south, even Django at first, assume he is like every other racist white bigot in the area. Yet this assumption always leads to these characters’ downfall, often at the end of Schulz’s revolver in a spectular explosion of blood and bone. They are unable to fathom a white man may not be racist not only because they don’t know anything else, but because he looks just like them, he must act the same! The social construction of race is something we never really discuss in our education our storytelling environments and I honestly wish Tarantino had explored this even more, though I am aware Django is not really the movie to do so and it would have likely ruined the overall exeperience. That said, moving on…)

But coming from Germany, a place where “they don’t got niggers” as one of the white characters of the cast helpfully points out (I believe it was one of Calvin Candie’s cohorts), Schulz was not raised in a culture where interaction between two races made white supremacy a daily reality. Free of this bias, Schulz is able to see blacks as people, not property, not as “niggers”, or as anything lesser. He recognizes their humanity; hell, he even jokes at one point, as a German, he is bound to help a “real life Siegfried” when helping Django rescue Brunhilde.

Shculz truly allows Tarantino to play with the idea of the knight in shining white armor as Django, a black man, and though this is probably obvious, it is just such a nice, refreshing to see I have to point it out. Really, as a culture, we need more discussions on race, be willing to view minorities as more than just their race (though never be racially color blind, as that’s just as bad), and if nothing else Django accomplishes this.

To me, Django’s main criticism lies with white supremacy. No white supremacist is left standing – literally. They all die. All of them. Most of them killed by Django. The forerunners to the KKK (who would surface until after the Civil War)? Exploded by dynamite and shot by Django’s rifle. The racist sheriff? Shot dead by Schulz. Django’s former overseers and opressers? Every single one of them dead by the time the credit rolls. This particular message isn’t subtle at all; white supremacy isn’t cool. Don’t do it, or Django will kill you.

But in all seriousness, the movie reserves most of its satire for the white supremacists I have repeated so often. I could discuss many scenes, but what comes to mind first is Calvin Candie’s great scene with the skull of one of his older slaves, the former “Head House Nigger”. His wholehearted conviction that “three dimples” are entirely responsible for the inferiority of an entire race is serious to the point of hilarity. It’s a great scene that shows just how ridiculous this kind of bigotry is when a true proponent of it explains its justification. It is interesting to note, however, that while the satirical tone of the scene is clear to the audience, it is not so much for our protagonists being held at gunpoint. Admittedly, this is likely due to them being held at gunpoint and DiCaprio’s fantastic sinister performance as Calvin Candie, but I have yet to give this much thought myself.

I hope the few idea I’ve laid out here encourage everyone to truly appreciate a story that has a lot to say not just about racism but the racial conditions of today’s America. I can say the cinematography is excellent, the acting spot-on and the soundtrack the best I’ve heard in a very long time, but that is subjective when it comes down to it. At the end of the day, Django’s true value as art is its exploration of race and its invitation to the audience for further conversations on a topic that is sorely glossed over for fear of “being politically correct”. Please don’t let Django fall victim to that.

Also don’t it feel good to see some racist motherfuckers get fucked up, bro? Or maybe Tarantino is questioning us to examine why we’re okay with that sort of violence in the movie but not the other violence, bro? Or maybe I already answered that question earlier on, bro, and this joke has overbro’d its welcome, bro? Bro?

Keep thinking,

Jordan