The other big omission by Academy voters that many are up in arms about is the man who brought us the fantastic Django Unchained, the one and only Quentin Tarantino. I get that he’s kind of insufferable in person and if I was giving away awards at my house, I probably wouldn’t want to nominate him because then I would have to invite him. Having said that, he is an absolutely fascinating dude and his work as a filmmaker speaks in ways he only dreams his tongue and face ever could. Yes, the scene where he “acts” is, shall we say, offputting. Ok, it’s downright cringe-worthy. But consider all the greatness that comes before and after that.
The screenplay is one thing and his direction is another; I get that. And the screenplay here is some mad genius, both the formulation of the narrative sequencing as well as the dialogue. Oh, the dialogue. It’s on the brink of annoying, but when it comes from Christoph Waltz it sounds like heaven. And that’s something a director deserves credit for, producing these performances from Waltz, Jamie Foxx, and Leo DiCaprio. He makes the dialogue operate in the rhythm it requires, and each scene establishes a tone with the right level of irony to match Dr. King Schultz’s pithy remarks. For every scene functioning at the highest level of tension—when Schultz shoots the Sheriff, or during dinner when Stephen pieces everything together—there is brilliantly placed comedy, most effectively during the Ku Klux Klan meeting, a terrific uppercut toward the racism of DW Griffith’s Birth of a Nation. It’s also QT’s most heartfelt film, because at its foundation is a love story between Django and Broomhilda, which is established in a short flashback sequence worthy of Pixar, albeit with more whips.
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