He Is A Rambunctious Sort, Ain't He?: Django Unchained (2012)

Quentin Tarantino has over the years become one of the handful of directors whose works are sure to become points of media contention, whether it be for their complete disregard of historicism or as a result of what some find to be problematic appropriations of racial or gendered identities.  These controversies aside, I place Tarantino in a special category of filmmaker, one where I go somewhat out of my way to assure that I see his films in theaters, and while I have only been able to see his two most recent works in theaters, I am always keeping an eye out for retrospectives of his work to emerge.  Like the work of Paul Thomas Anderson, I feel that Tarantino's films exude an undeniable amount of cinematic outpouring that demands they be viewed on the biggest screen possible, although viewers are often awarded a more lively experience with the latter director, in so much as he provides such high levels of action and comedy that it is impossible not to become enthralled with its magnificence.  Of course much can be said about the manner with which Tarantino glorifies violence and revenge to push his narratives along, however, Django Unchained is a particularly well written piece by the always absurdist director, one that does indeed display some of the more intense moments of the direness of slavery, while also infusing it with the wily and revolutionary elements so inherent to the tradition of spaghetti westerns.  This heavy tie to the spaghetti western genre is apparent through out various cinematic references, although I found some of his nods to classic silent film directors rather impressive most notably to the grandeur of D.W. Griffith, as well as to Eric Von Stroheim's tragically lost classic Greed, what with a giant ass tooth flailing around in some of the opening scenes.  I am thoroughly impressed by everything offered in this film, although I will admit that it proved to be exactly the film I expected going in and really runs within the same vein as Inglorious Basterds.  Basically, Django Unchained will probably prove to be the last thing I see in theaters this year and I am happy for that to be the case.

Django Unchained it what may prove to be Tarantino's most straightforward title since Kill Bill, focuses on the events surrounding slave Django (Jamie Foxx) receiving his freedoms from the hands of German dentist turned bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) who employs Django to help him find a set of slave overseers with criminal records.  After realizing that he will be provided with his freedom for helping Schultz, Django informs Schultz that he desires nothing more than to save his wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from slavery after they were separated for being caught as runaway slaves.  Schultz immediately seeing the connections to Wagner's Ring Cycle cannot help but offer his hand in aid, mostly because he is fully aware that Django's status as black, regardless of freedom will not allow him anywhere near the slave trade insiders.  Suggesting that he train with him as a bounty hunter, Schultz creates an elaborate plan to pass as "mandingo fighters" in which Django will pretend to be an expert in the subject, accepting that he is only performing a theatrical role of sorts.  This plan leads them to the world of Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), whose post-modernly named Candieland is a centrifuge for a variety of slaves, including Broomhilda whose markings as a runaway mean that her relatively privileged status as a house servant are quick to become that of a comfort girl.  Calvin is of course incredibly protective of his world and wealth and picks up on the possibility that Schultz and Django may be playing up a ruse.  However, it is the head house servant Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson), and his over zealous desire to be liked by his white owners, that picks up on Django and Broomhilda's loving glances.  Blowing the lid on the ruse, Calvin demands that Schultz pay the amount of twelve thousand dollars for Broomhilda.  Schultz quickly agrees and while attempting to leave Calvin demands that Schultz shake his hand, as a form of southern tradition, which leads to Shultz shooting Calvin.  This ultimately follows with a huge shoot out and an extra final act of retribution in the films closing that is hyper-violent and destructive, but to be fair it is right in line with what fans of Tarantino have come to expect.

So the major question circulating around Django Unchained is as to what degree of racism occurs within its construct.  This critique is not new to Tarantino, as theorist bell hooks has often been critical of the director's lack in providing for revolutionary spaces within his films for characters with intersectional oppressions to transform and transcend their suffering.  This is true, in so much, as characters often either accept that they have become part of a larger system and simply find their own means to navigate said system, without deconstructing it or seeking its removal.  One could make readings like this apply to Pulp Fiction, Jackie Brown and Death Proof with little difficulty.  However, the criticism circling around Django Unchained, specifically, seems to be the Tarantino's use of racial epithets and slavery in an exploitative manner, to revel in revenge, much like that of Inglorious Basterds.  There is a degree of validity to this claim, however, I think unlike Inglorious Basterds, Django Unchained really drives home the questions and reflections on how illogical slavery was, in that  it provided one group of people with unbridled power over another based on various degrees of misinformation, most notably the illogical nature of phrenology, which Calvin seem preoccupied with throughout the film.  Let us not forget that this film is mostly about a slavery getting his freedom and obtaining the freedom of his wife, one that begins with him attempting to navigate through the oppressive world according to the oppressor's rules, which occurs in some of the earlier mentioned works.    As Audre Lorde would suggest, "one cannot dismantle the master's house with the master's tools," however, in the alternate absurd world of Quentin Tarantino this is completely possible as Django obliterates a slave master's house with weapons.  To be fair in all this I am a white male watching this film so my reading is informed by certain elements of privilege and a back catalogue of film viewing that includes some truly racist cinema.  I look forward to reading other criticism of the film  as it becomes more watched and reflected upon, however, I am not looking forward to more blind anger directed towards the film by people who have flat out refused to even consider its existence.

Key Scene:  The Cleo Lounge scene is incredibly intense and exceptionally sobering and reflective of a new level of seriousness on the part of Tarantino, a reminder that he may make a film with exploitative elements, yet be fully aware of the historical seriousness of his subject matter.

As I argued earlier, Tarantino films were born to be viewed in theaters, do yourself a favor and catch a matinee this week.

Experiments in Film: Surface Tension (1968)

Have you ever pondered what would occur if a theoretical physicist were to grab a camera and begin working in experimental film?  Well thanks to Hollis Frampton we now have that answer, and it is most evident in his short film Surface Tension.  A series of speedup shots and mismatching non-diagetic sounds help to question the entirety of cinematic composition in ways that are both visually captivating and jarring to the senses.  Frampton was outspoken in his believe that what artists roles were within filmmaking were confined solely to what would fit within the confines of a rectangular box that was a screen, in his time a projector specifically.  As such, his works often pushed notions of place and time in ways that would not be challenged for decades.  Furthermore, along with the help of contemporary and colleague Michael Snow, he worked to dismantle the very thought of linear narrative in a new way, particularly the issue of placing a camera in a static position and only altering its outcome in post-production.  In a sense, Surface Tension is about what you can do the a piece of film with technology, as opposed to Brakhage whose work seemed more focused on what one can do with film itself.  To Frampton, the film was irrelevant it was what the film began once project that truly mattered, because to him that is when the artist no longer had control over it, even if they placed themselves in the narrative.

Surface Tension, as the name suggests, concerns itself with the way objects move on a surface with a varying degree of “film.”  Scientifically speaking, the greater the amount of film the more difficult it is for an object to move. In Hampton’s film this is not the case, in fact, it is how he alters the film that allows the material to move in an either slower or faster rate.  It is only the sound that seems to move at a consistent pace, but that, arguably, has nothing to do with film and exists on its own plane of experience.  Frampton even went so far as to claim that the film was about three separate notions of space, one being comedic, one scientific and a third being something in between.  With this in mind it helps explain the three segments of the film, one involving a man talking whilst standing next to a clock.  With the sound removed, we are left perplexed over the man’s discussion that is faster than normal and only have the incessant ringing of a phone as comfort.  The second section, the scientific portion of the film, follows a camera fast forwarded through the streets as incomprehensible German is dubbed over.  We are only able to pull worlds like “chocolat” from the man’s dialogue, which is juxtaposed with incredibly murky water.  The final section is of a fish in an aquarium on the beach.  The rate of the film is normal this time as we watch the ebb and flow of the tide consume the tank, but never take the fish.  Simultaneously words appear on the screen that have no coherent meaning, but appear to refer to the film as a whole in some manner.  Neither comedic nor serious, this portion of the film is clearly the hybrid of the previous portions, yet it is always affected by what Frampton has done to intervene with the film stock.  Ultimately, the film is book-ended by crashing tides, perhaps suggesting that no amount of intervention can stop surface tension, when the force is greater than the film trying to interfere.  A deeply profound commentary on the entire state of filmmaking, particularly considering it is a question film theorist haves struggled over for almost a century.  What Frampton does with Surface tension, is definitively answer that question, or at least provide a philosophical positing so grand that to overcome it would be to some extent inconceivable.

For more information about Hollis Frampton or to find information about Surface Tension, which was recently released as part of a new Criterion box set called A Hollis Frampton Odyssey, click either of the images below:

My Film World: Vampires and Violets: Lesbians In Film

This will be a rather quick post as I am pressed for time, but I just wanted to take a moment to make note of a book I read recently concerning the image of lesbians in world cinema.  The book titled Vampires and Violets: Lesbians In Film From The Crossdressing Stars, Dietrich and Garbo, To The Vampires Of The Late 60's, To Silkwood And The Color Purple.  The title itself is rather all encompassing, which nicely reflects the broad nature of the piece.  Author, Andrea Weiss, better known for her documentary After Stonewall, takes great care to discuss both the blatant and repressed images of lesbians in film.  The work is concise and approachable and truly considers what actresses were projecting in their roles, as well as approaching the notion of what gay women would have felt watching these projected images.  Perhaps the best part of the entire work though is Weiss's persistence in being extremely critical of the imagery she discusses.  Instead of simply noting the existence of such films, Weiss intensively breaks down the problems and products of each image, often arguing that even the most liberal of lesbian imagery is entrenched within patriarchal oppression.  Fortunately, Weiss finds optimism in the films closing chapter as she discusses the power experimental films have had in the previous two decades.  It is an honest read that is neither preachy nor indifferent.  I cannot recommend it enough, snag your own copy and enjoy.

   (Su Friedrich's 1987 film Damned If You Don't receives heavy discussion from Weiss, and deservedly so because it is a truly intense portrait of repressed lesbianism.)

My Film World: Blood Cinema

I am trying a different approach to Monday posts.  Instead of delivering a film review, I am going to offer something in regards to film that is not specifically a movie.  This could be, but is not limited, to literature, music or other blogs.  It is a way for me to continue my study of film outside of simply viewing movies.  I hope that what I mention helps you to expand your film palette into something more than the casual viewing.  I also hope that it will help to convey how cinematically inclined our world can be.

For the inaugural post I am recommending Marsha Kinder's Blood Cinema: The Reconstruction of National Identity. It is a rather detailed study of Spanish Cinema as it relates to their films from early filmmaking through the fall of Franco.  It is, in my opinion, precisely how one should approach film criticism.  It is conscious of the society, artistic expressions of the respective eras, and the ever-changing role the movies played to audiences throughout the 20th century.  Furthermore, it is a very complex, yet approachable, reference book on all film things regarding Spain, including a chapter devoted solely to one of my favorite directors Luis Bunuel.  It sheds light on some rather obscure films, as well as dispelling misnomers about some rather famous ones.  I enjoyed reading Kinder's research and would highly recommend it to anyone curious about the rather unique world of Spanish Cinema.

It is available on Amazon for a decent price used and well worth picking up.  More information about Marsha Kinder is available at her USC faculty webpage.

                          (Cria Cuervos is only one of the many excellent films discussed in Blood Cinema)