Set before the Civil War, "Django Unchained” revolves around the coming together of Dr. Schultz, a bounty hunter on the trail of the Brittle brothers, and Django, a slave who has the ability to lead Schultz to his bounty. With the promise of being freed, Django willingly assists Schultz in his task; instead of then parting ways, the two embark on another journey — find and free Django’s wife Broomhilda. They eventually make their way to Calvin Candie’s plantation, where Broomhilda has been kept, and begin to form a plan for the rescue. Candie’s plantation is, in part, used to train slaves to battle each other for the pleasure of onlookers. With this information, Django and Schultz mask their true intentions by feigning interest in this trade, which will allow them to discreetly “purchase” Broomhilda without arousing suspicion. The plan backfires when Candie’s house slave becomes aware of the true plan. With Candie being informed of the actual intention — and feeling as though he’s been made a fool of — he seeks revenge. Not unexpectedly, a huge, bloody gun fight breaks out. Important characters are lost but Django is eventually reunited with his wife, and they both walk away free.
With our current focus on early films in class, I found myself most aware of the extent to which symbolism was used, and how that has become a norm in current films; there has rarely been a film produced in the last decade that doesn’t have some sort of message or broader meaning to it. When film first became popular, it wasn't relying on the audience's ability to extract meaning and make interpretations to enhance the movie, it was just a fact that displaying a moving picture would be pleasing and somewhat surreal to the eye, whether it had deeper meaning or not. In “Django Unchained”, the audience is expected to acknowledge the symbolism in multiple aspects of the film: costumes, music, archetypes, dialogue. The extent of detailing is obvious in one of the costumes that Django wears in a particular scene, and its striking similarity to the painting “The Blue Boy.” Knowing Tarantino's knack for subtleties, this couldn't just be a weird coincidence. Of course, it wasn't. Apparently a German filmmaker by the name of F. W. Murnau had been inspired by this painting, and also well-known for the invention of a camera technique known as the “Unchained Camera Technique”. So, yeah, that totally blew my mind. But that’s what i’m saying...there are so many details slipped into films now that the audience has to work to figure out. I am also aware that Quentin Tarantino, the director, seems to have a certain way of personalizing his films, just like any other well-known director. Martin Scorsese uses popular music and slow motion, Tim Burton employs peculiar characters and macabre settings and plots, and Quentin Tarantino seems fascinated with emphasizing the over-all view of a film and less interested in smooth individual sequences. I think this is why “Django Unchained” appears, on the surface, a bit cartoonish. Another thing that really stood out was the comedic relief thrown in between an overall darker film— I found that the KKK scene was almost inappropriately hilarious.
One of the scenes that caught my attention was directly after Django and Dr. Shultz arrived at Calvin Candie’s plantation. The scene opens with Candie in the foreground, smoking his pipe in a wagon covered with red velvet, startled by his house slave Stephen tottering down the steps of the main house to see who has arrived. Even within the first few seconds, I became aware that characters in the main focus of the scene were constantly and completely surrounded by either slaves working on the house or men guarding Calvin Candie, despite the fact that his manner was relaxed. As Stephen approaches the wagon, he and Candie exchange friendly jabs as though they’re old friends; Stephen comfortably leans against the wagon, and Candie shifts his position to accommodate Stephen’s movement around him. This comes as a shock to the viewer considering the obvious status difference of the two. As Stephen begins to question the presence of Django, not actually having turned around to acknowledge either of the men, Django calmly, but sharply, interrupts him — obviously annoyed with the lack of respect he is being given by Stephen. Stephen begins to retort and has to be calmed down by Candie, who informs him that Django is, in fact, free. The subsequent dialogue between Calvin and Stephen is what made me realize the importance of a seemingly minor scene, because of the confusion that it brings to the forefront of the viewer’s mind — Why is Candie, a slave owner, seemingly accepting Django as a man deserving of respect? Why does Stephen find it so hard to accept that Django is free? Why does Stephen appear to dislike the fact that a man of his same color is free? Why is Calvin having to convince Stephen that he should respect Django? It’s a very bizarre conversation. The fact that Stephen simultaneously knows his place as a slave yet feels as though he doesn’t have to “take lip” from a free man, just because he’s black, is odd. The conversation between Calvin and Stephen continues along the same lines, and evetually the scene closes with Candie over-enthusiastically introducing his sister to the men. I thought what made the scene so effective was the simplicity of the editing and camera techniques; by simply alternating between medium shots and close-ups the viewer was able to focus more on what was being said rather than how it was being presented.
Fantastic cast, keeps the audience engaged the entire time, and a plot that is complex but doesn't overwhelm the audience. However, I really don't find the film visually appealing. I understand why Tarantino makes some scenes (usually the violent ones) appear a bit cartoonish and over-exaggerated, but it just throws me off.
