"Gentlemen, you had my curiosity. But now you have my attention."
Calvin Candie.
Script Logic; 1/2
Pace; 0/2
Acting; 2/2
Aesthetic; 2/2
Originality & Intention; 1/2
Final Score; 6/10
Final Word;
So, a fair bit has been said about this film already. On the one hand, we have critically acclaimed director Spike Lee condemning the film for its depiction of slavery and its overuse of racially provocative language, while the film's stars, including Samuel L Jackson and Jamie Foxx, defend it as an 'important work of art' (yep, that ol' chestnut). We also have Quentin Tarantino (in typically animated and stuttering fashion) loosing his temper during an interview with the BBC. As you'd imagine, I have an opinion on all this, but I'll wade in on that subject later, probably during my long-overdue article on the works of Quentin Tarantino. For now we should consider the film without the murky ambiguity of its subject and behind-the-scenes agendas. I didn't have high hopes, it has to be said (the bitter disappointment of Inglorious still fresh in my mind), but it wasn't the complete mess that I'd expected it to be. I only decided to watch it for the sake of this blog, and because it's all anybody will be talking about for the next couple of weeks (see how I suffer for you people?).
On the positive side, the first hour is perfection: the slavery is eluded to tastefully, while the violance is comically over-the-top and punctuated with Tarantino's usual flair for irreverent wit (much kudos for the scene where the hooded racisits discuss costume-related issues). What with all the Spaghetti Western styling present in his previous movies, it would seem that this, more than any other project, was the film Tarantino was tailor-made to direct... Everybody gives cracking performances, with particular praise for DiCaprio and Jackson going spectacularly against type, and the script gives everybody some great lines (even if in reality the term 'mother fucker' wasn't used til much later). The locations, the sets and the costume design are also all top notch. Unfortunately, that's where the good stuff ends.
The second hour, where the cruelties inflicted on the slaves is more apparent (subject of the controversy), is over-long and off-kilter with the comic-book sensibility of the set-up, and this apparent return to realism draws attention to the flaws in the script's logic- without wishing to give anything away, the much-aligned Mandingo plot is unnecessary and makes little to no sense at all. Neither is it historically accurate. The last hour again jarringly differs in tone to what has come before, and any tangible sense of realism is cast aside for a disappointing final act; where the ludicrous gun battles are orchestrated to modern-day rap songs, the director has a cameo affecting the World's worst Australian accent, and the hero's horse can dance.
In a nut shell; first hour great, second hour dull and ethically uneasy, and the third hour is dementedly surreal and at the same time dramatically under-whelming. Somewhere in this mess is a decent 90 minuite homage to the Spegetti Westerns of yester-year, but this is unfortunately caught up in the eccentric self indulgence of an egotistical and rambling director- one who occasionally needs to be told 'no'.
So, a fair bit has been said about this film already. On the one hand, we have critically acclaimed director Spike Lee condemning the film for its depiction of slavery and its overuse of racially provocative language, while the film's stars, including Samuel L Jackson and Jamie Foxx, defend it as an 'important work of art' (yep, that ol' chestnut). We also have Quentin Tarantino (in typically animated and stuttering fashion) loosing his temper during an interview with the BBC. As you'd imagine, I have an opinion on all this, but I'll wade in on that subject later, probably during my long-overdue article on the works of Quentin Tarantino. For now we should consider the film without the murky ambiguity of its subject and behind-the-scenes agendas. I didn't have high hopes, it has to be said (the bitter disappointment of Inglorious still fresh in my mind), but it wasn't the complete mess that I'd expected it to be. I only decided to watch it for the sake of this blog, and because it's all anybody will be talking about for the next couple of weeks (see how I suffer for you people?).
On the positive side, the first hour is perfection: the slavery is eluded to tastefully, while the violance is comically over-the-top and punctuated with Tarantino's usual flair for irreverent wit (much kudos for the scene where the hooded racisits discuss costume-related issues). What with all the Spaghetti Western styling present in his previous movies, it would seem that this, more than any other project, was the film Tarantino was tailor-made to direct... Everybody gives cracking performances, with particular praise for DiCaprio and Jackson going spectacularly against type, and the script gives everybody some great lines (even if in reality the term 'mother fucker' wasn't used til much later). The locations, the sets and the costume design are also all top notch. Unfortunately, that's where the good stuff ends.
The second hour, where the cruelties inflicted on the slaves is more apparent (subject of the controversy), is over-long and off-kilter with the comic-book sensibility of the set-up, and this apparent return to realism draws attention to the flaws in the script's logic- without wishing to give anything away, the much-aligned Mandingo plot is unnecessary and makes little to no sense at all. Neither is it historically accurate. The last hour again jarringly differs in tone to what has come before, and any tangible sense of realism is cast aside for a disappointing final act; where the ludicrous gun battles are orchestrated to modern-day rap songs, the director has a cameo affecting the World's worst Australian accent, and the hero's horse can dance.
In a nut shell; first hour great, second hour dull and ethically uneasy, and the third hour is dementedly surreal and at the same time dramatically under-whelming. Somewhere in this mess is a decent 90 minuite homage to the Spegetti Westerns of yester-year, but this is unfortunately caught up in the eccentric self indulgence of an egotistical and rambling director- one who occasionally needs to be told 'no'.
