Oh, revenge. I've been thinking a lot about you lately. How do you square up with someone who has wronged you? Do you deliver an exact amount, eye-for-an-eye style? What if that's impossible, then what? What do you do, huh? And what about those people who take the high road and don't seek revenge at all? Those amazing bastards have always baffled me, honestly. Maybe the feeling of getting even doesn't actually feel good, and provides no real pleasure. Maybe exacting revenge is joyless, but watching someone get theirs? Well, that shit's gold.
Admittedly late to the party, I had a real good time with Django Unchained. Skipped theatrically due to its epic runtime and holiday release (an unfortunate combo for a family man), I jumped at the chance to rent it. In fact, I actually considered purchasing the blu ray, but ownership removes any immediacy from actually viewing it. That nasty buck and a half redbox late fee is just enough of a kick in the balls to motivate the uninitiated. Oh, and this texted threat from my good friend, Haspe [hass-pee].
if you don't watch Django the second it's released I will fly out there and pistol whip you.
See, back in 1994, Haspe and I went to the Hualalai Theaters in Kailua-Kona, Hawai'i and had our minds f--king blown by a little film called Pulp Fiction. This was likely a watershed moment for our appreciation of cinema as the kafe had not only been raised, but also smashed over our fragile, little minds. Quentin Tarantino, a director we then knew little about, had shown us the way. There was no going back.
Django Unchained, not that I need to tell you, continues the streak of impossibly cool cinematic spectacles Tarantino has unleashed upon audiences. Set in 1858, Django tells a fairly straightforward tale of bloody revenge, set in a pre-Civil War South. And while I think Kill Bill was (marginally) better in terms of revengey-ness, Django features something that not enough films do: motherf--king Christoph Waltz.
While Jaime Foxx kicks ass anyway that ass can be kicked, Leonardo DiCaprio is as hilariously evil as he is dashingly handsome, and mainstay Samuel L. Jackson the rottenest of f--ks, all end up a notch below the dignified ruthlessness of Waltz. He's infinitely charming, incredibly smart, but has absolutely zero masalah shooting someone directly in their black heart. His ability to combine good and evil so effortlessly is truly something to marvel at. Makes me want to watch Inglourious Basterds again. Immediately. As if you need a reason, you can see it for Waltz alone. But beyond that is also a bloody good time.
Speaking of a good time, the Yays and Boos are happy to be back after what seemed like 900 days without my laptop. But thanks to Father Flem, lone member of 's IT department, Jurassic Park is back online. Unfortunately, we can't pay him, what's the word, oh yes - money. But the Boos said they'd take him out for a tasty burger. And a Sprite.
But how would I ever get revenge on a bad movie? Oh, right.
I'd start a blog.
Admittedly late to the party, I had a real good time with Django Unchained. Skipped theatrically due to its epic runtime and holiday release (an unfortunate combo for a family man), I jumped at the chance to rent it. In fact, I actually considered purchasing the blu ray, but ownership removes any immediacy from actually viewing it. That nasty buck and a half redbox late fee is just enough of a kick in the balls to motivate the uninitiated. Oh, and this texted threat from my good friend, Haspe [hass-pee].
if you don't watch Django the second it's released I will fly out there and pistol whip you.
See, back in 1994, Haspe and I went to the Hualalai Theaters in Kailua-Kona, Hawai'i and had our minds f--king blown by a little film called Pulp Fiction. This was likely a watershed moment for our appreciation of cinema as the kafe had not only been raised, but also smashed over our fragile, little minds. Quentin Tarantino, a director we then knew little about, had shown us the way. There was no going back.
Django Unchained, not that I need to tell you, continues the streak of impossibly cool cinematic spectacles Tarantino has unleashed upon audiences. Set in 1858, Django tells a fairly straightforward tale of bloody revenge, set in a pre-Civil War South. And while I think Kill Bill was (marginally) better in terms of revengey-ness, Django features something that not enough films do: motherf--king Christoph Waltz.
While Jaime Foxx kicks ass anyway that ass can be kicked, Leonardo DiCaprio is as hilariously evil as he is dashingly handsome, and mainstay Samuel L. Jackson the rottenest of f--ks, all end up a notch below the dignified ruthlessness of Waltz. He's infinitely charming, incredibly smart, but has absolutely zero masalah shooting someone directly in their black heart. His ability to combine good and evil so effortlessly is truly something to marvel at. Makes me want to watch Inglourious Basterds again. Immediately. As if you need a reason, you can see it for Waltz alone. But beyond that is also a bloody good time.
Speaking of a good time, the Yays and Boos are happy to be back after what seemed like 900 days without my laptop. But thanks to Father Flem, lone member of 's IT department, Jurassic Park is back online. Unfortunately, we can't pay him, what's the word, oh yes - money. But the Boos said they'd take him out for a tasty burger. And a Sprite.
I see Leo, I think of an old boy. I see a hammer? I think the same thing. |
Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!
- Wow. The opening scene with the Specks is all kinds of great. Not sure what's better, the witty dialogue...or the bloody action.
- Put your hands together for Fritz the horse, everyone. Take a bow, Fritz.
- It's a pretty sweet day when you murder the town sheriff and don't go to jail. In fact, you pass go and collect $200.
- I loved every scene where someone was completely befuddled in regard to how to treat Django. Big Daddy's bewilderment was particularly amusing.
- Okay, one of my favorite scenes in the whole film was the bit about the eyeholes. It not only takes us completely out of our bloodlust for a minute, but it's f--king hysterical. Look, nobody's sayin' they don't appreciate what Jenny did...
- Django. Not only is this dude a real badass, but he's one Hell of a shot. Damn.
- Ah, Candyland. What a place.Well, unless you're on the wrong end of a Mandingo fight, even if they never really took place. Um, officially, anyway.
- My favorite sound effect ever? The sound of someone turning around real fast. Hands down.
- While there are a lot of tense scenes in Django, Hildi's scars at the dinner table was probably the best one. Well, worst one.
- I literally want to open a store or an auction house or something, only so I can rightfully exclaim Sold! to the man with the exceptional beard!
- Speaking of exceptional, that shootout at the end was f--king madness! Django's backward jump move was pure insanity. I was so pumped, I wanted to shoot someone's d--k off. Out of joy.
- Even though I found it unnecessary, I think the shot of Django standing in a cloud of QT was one of the coolest moments in the entire film. F--king epic.
- Though another cool moment, is when we are all treated to a little singing courtesy of Samuel L. Took me back to Black Snake Moan for a minute, thankyouverymuch.
- Good bye, Ms. Lara.
- And a little more love for Waltz. Is it me, or has he become not only the perfect Tarantino leading man, but maybe even the perfect Tarantino? It reminds me of how the leading men in Woody Allen movies are almost always doing an Allen impersonation. Except Waltz has impeccable skills. I even laughed at his pronunciation of the word charade.
- And finally, I loved the simple gesture of the kiss. Auf wiedersehen.
Only reason this picture is in the Boos is because I don't have that hat. |
Boooooooooooo!
- Ooooh. Even worse than the rightfully maligned dog killing animo in movies? Horse killing. At least he apologized.
- Poor Little Jody.
- Man, that Mandingo fight was pretty gruesome. Get him, Big Fred.
- Monsieur Candie is the biggest poser. Francophile, my ass.
- Speaking of ass, Marsha and her bitches tore some up. Nuts.
- Stephen. You are in the Top 5 of biggest douches ever to grace the big screen. You couldn't just let it go, could you?
- The hotbox. Sure, the nudity is cool. But that's it.
- And while we're at it, was Hildi's character not as important as we needed her to be? I wanted them back together, but in a nearly three-hour movie, Hildi seems to be the forgotten one.
- The only thing worse than being known as Naked Guy? When your name's changed to That Guy Who Had His Dick Blown Off.
- What's with the horse tricks at the end? Seemed odd.
- And finally, though it's impossible to say really, is there a chance, even a slight one, that the cast made this script seem much better than it was? Just a thought.
But how would I ever get revenge on a bad movie? Oh, right.
I'd start a blog.