'Django Unchained' review:

Been a while, etc. Saw this a few weeks ago, when it was released in the UK, and even recorded a podcast about it - which subscribers to the old Splendor Cinema iTunes feed may well have already listened to - but a combination of work, holiday and illness kept me from posting a written appraisal. See below:

There is a good film buried somewhere within the three hours of Quentin Tarantino's typically self-satisfied western. Indeed, the first hour, which sees Jamie Foxx's slave Django pressed into the service of the ever-watchable Christoph Waltz's eccentric German bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz, moves along at a good clip and is every bit as stylish, cine-literate and entertainingly violent as the filmmaker's acolytes would have you believe. The duo have a pleasing on-screen chemistry and their various (slightly wacky) escapades - though episodic and mostly inconsequential - are fun. So much so that I would quite happily trade the subsequent two hours of film for four half-hour TV episodes, in which these unlikely partners round up a new bunch of low-lifes each week against a Spaghetti Western backdrop. That would be better than 'Django Unchained' - the bloated and scattershot film from an ego-maniacal director, seemingly operating without checks on his power. Case in point: his truly risible cameo as an Australian people trafficker. Though the less said about that the better.

One of the appealing things about the first third of 'Django' is that, much like the enjoyably disposable 'Inglourious Basterds' before it, there is an overriding edge of sillyness and even moments of satire - both best exemplified by an amusing (if disposable) KKK skit - that help to undercut the unrelenting nastiness of Tarantino's characters and apparent world-view. In other words, it's easier to sit back and laugh at people's skulls being staved in when the overall piece is irreverent and daft, as opposed to when these actions are supposed to be cool. That last word, "cool", is key in terms of my relationship with Tarantino. The more desperately and self-consciously he seems to be trying to sell cool, to create cool characters and write cool dialogue, the more tragic and ultimately disturbing I find his films to be. The ever-present themes of Old Testament justice and revenge are difficult for me to stomach when taken seriously. Being asked to see them as cool is, to my mind, unpalatable.

And so we come to the latter stages of the film, in which Django fights violence and intolerance with the same and [SPOILER] wins. Leonardo DiCaprio's energetic and typically intense performance as the villain goes some way to offsetting the tedium of the second half but po-faced revenge fantasy blood-lust and a politically dubious finale - in which black collaboration with slavery essentially becomes the main villain of the piece, via Samuel L. Jackson's Stephen - leave a sour taste well before the credits roll and the horses dance. Throw in some baffling musical choices and the director's aforementioned cameo and 'Django' stops being irreverent fun and becomes, at best, sloppy and boring and, at worst, pretty hateful. It certainly wants a good edit.

FilmQuest 2012 (7/30): 'The Rock':

"What is wrong with these people, huh? Mason? Don't you think there's a lot of, uh, a lot of anger flowing around this island? Kind of a pubescent volatility? Don't you think? A lotta angst, a lot of "I'm sixteen, I'm angry at my father" syndrome? I mean grow up! We're stuck on an island with a bunch of violence-for-pleasure-seeking psychopathic marines, SHAME-ON-THEM!"

I was surprised to hear the above rant voiced by the hero of a 1996 Michael Bay action movie. Welcome to 'The Rock' - the latest entry for "FilmQuest 2012" - where it is spoken (or shouted) by Nicolas Cage's FBI chemical weapons specialist Stanley Goodspeed. It seems to be criticising the violent machismo of every Bay movie (even the ones that hadn't been made yet). And it's not an isolated case: elsewhere Sean Connery's ace escape artist and former SAS operative Captain Mason cites Oscar Wilde in declaring patriotism "the virtue of the vicious".

Both quotes seemingly run in direct opposition to much of what we see throughout Bay's movie, which fetishises American military men, might is right pragmatism and the star spangled banner as much as ever. There are sombre speeches about the importance of respecting the armed forces and about the honour involved in "serving", just like all of Bay's other glossy feature length army recruitment videos (and with the same frenetic cutting). 'The Rock' is in many ways the definitive "get the President on the phone" movie: full of ultra-macho one-liners, strangely charming vulgarities and fist-pumping moments of explosive violence. It's a film in which, without irony, people say things like:

• "Your best? Losers always go on about doing their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen."
• "This is the toughest call I've ever had to make... airstike approved!"
• "This man knows our most intimate secrets from the last half-century: the alien landing at Roswell, the truth about the JFK assassination. Mason's angry, he's lethal, he's a trained killer... and HE is the only hope that we have got!"
• "General, we've shed the same blood in the same mud - you know god damn well I can't give that order!"
• "Make no mistake, gentlemen. We are in the fight of our lives against maybe the greatest battalion commander of the Vietnam war, I shit you not!"
• "The whole world is being Fed-exed to hell in a handcart!"
• "You're between the rock and a hard case."

Anyone who's seen it will know there are a million more zingers like those, most punctuated by the cocking of a gun or the twang of an electric guitar. 'The Rock' invented hi-octane... then shot it into space on the back of a radioactive unicorn on crack where it exploded with the heat of a billion suns. You get the point: it's a film that waves its big dick in your face to the sound of the American national anthem. It's a film so over the top that it sometimes feels less like Bay's 'Armageddon' and more like Wes Anderson's MTV Awards parody of 'Armageddon'. Yet remember those two quotes from before? They feel like they're from a different movie universe.

Perhaps it's not surprising that 'The Rock' should exhibit signs of multiple personality disorder: it is the fruit of at least eight different writers - most of whom are uncredited for reasons only those within the nebulous and highly litigious world of Hollywood writing credits could explain. Among the uncredited are voices as disparate and distinctive as Aaron Sorkin and Quentin Tarantino (highly speculative, but perhaps some of that liberal-minded critique came from Sorkin).

But wherever the lines came from and however much they contradict each other (undermining whatever the point of 'The Rock' is in the process) there is little sense in denying that it's in the same bracket as 'Casablanca', 'Withnail & I' or 'The Big Lebowski' in terms of how endlessly quotable it is. Personally I love all the lines which lay out the stakes in really direct fashion, such as this doozy: "Look, I'm just a biochemist. Most of the time, I work in a little glass jar and lead a very uneventful life. I drive a Volvo, a beige one. But what I'm dealing with here is one of the most deadly substances the earth has ever known, so what say you cut me some FRIGGIN' SLACK?" What more do we need to know about the disparity between the life of Cage's character and the gravity of the situation he finds himself in? 'The Rock' is the sworn enemy of subtlety and I wouldn't have it any other way.

After foiling Ed Harris' apparently noble terrorist plot (it's easy to forget that pre-9/11 a lot of movie terrorism was domestic), Cage ends up in possession of the MacGuffin microfilm, holding information that got Connery's character locked up in Alcatraz for life without trial. Goodspeed's never previously expressed any interest in possessing this information, so why does his attainment of it count as a win? The answer: it just does. Especially because it facilitates one of the best (and most irreverent) final lines ever: "Honey, you wanna know who really killed JFK?"

The last word on Venice...

This is the last post I imagine I'll post on the 2010 Venice Film Festival. I head off to work as a sub-editor in the festival daily in Cambridge from Thursday, so I'll be keeping very busy - and I'll have a new festival to bang on about here. But in the meantime, I wanted (pretty much for my own amusement) to hand out my own "awards" for the best of the 67th Venice International Film Festival. I more or less did this when discussing the actual awards in my last post here, as well as in a piece on Obsessed with Film, where I suggested my favourites as I looked at those actually rewarded by Tarantino's jury.

These fake awards take on new significance today too (even if only in my own head), as many in the Italian press - and now influential American journalists have joined them - have accused the 'Pulp Fiction' director of favouritism, as many of the awards went to friends of his.

I don't know whether those charges are fair. Of course, Tarantino himself has been keen to insist that he picked the winners based on their merits and not on friendship. But in any case, here are my two cents, and my final word on the festival:

GOLDEN LION for Best Film:
BLACK SWAN - Darren Aronofsky (USA)
No doubt in my mind whatsoever here. Darren Aronofsky's 'Black Swan' was simply perfect. It played on the opening night of the festival and set a really high standard for all that followed. Really intense, it scared me, moved me and excited me. Really amazing. A film that reminded me why I love cinema.



SILVER LION for Best Director to:
13 ASSASSINS - Takeshi Mike (JAP)
Darren Aronofsky was the "best director" in fairness, but this award is traditionally give as a runner-up prize. And in that spirit I have given it my second favourite film, '13 Assassins'. In my review I compared it favourably to Kurosawa's 'Seven Samurai', so I could hardly not reward Mike if it is that good. The most fun and exciting film in competition, in terms of action. The battle in the last half hour is as good as any I've ever seen in the cinema. The film also deals with interesting themes, namely the contradictions between and evils of traditionalism and formal beauty in Japanese culture.



SPECIAL JURY PRIZE to:
NOI CREDEVAMO - Mario Martone (ITA)
I don't really know what this award is for. I suppose it's the award for "we wanted to give this film an award but it really wasn't the best at anything in particular". In that case, I will award it to the Italian nationalism epic, Noi credevamo - directed by Mario Martone. There was no trailer, so watch this clip (in Italian) to get a sense of how "well made" it is. It reminds me a little of 'Barry Lyndon' in terms of the lighting (and obviously the period). One of my favourite films from the festival and a rare three hour plus movie that doesn't feel overlong.



COPPA VOLPI
for Best Actor:
BARNEY'S VERSION - Paul Giamatti (USA)
If there was one award I didn't strongly disagree with the other night, it was the decision to give Vincent Gallo the best actor prize for his role in 'Essential Killing' - a damn good thriller with a brilliant central performance. However, I'm just going to be contrarian and go with the equally excellent Paul Giamatti, whose performance in Richard J. Lewis' 'Barney's Version' proved the festival's only real tearjerker. Giamatti's performance in this film, as he plays a man over three decades, is a masterclass. This trailer doesn't really do it justice, but here it is anyway.



COPPA VOLPI
for Best Actress:
BLACK SWAN - Natalie Portman (USA)
I don't know if I should gush about 'Black Swan' any more than I already have (at some length). I'll just say that Portman's dedication to this role - which required extensive ballet lessons - is matched by the intensity and emotional depth of her performance. I'll also say here (so I can post another trailer) that Michele Williams excelled in the fairly boring Western, 'Meek's Cutoff'.



MARCELLO MASTROIANNI AWARD
for Best Young Actor or Actress:
LA PECORA NERA - Luigi Fedele (ITA)
The 27 year old Mila Kunis won this award the other night, which was a little odd if you ask me. So instead I've plumbed for Luigi Fedele, a newcomer who really shone playing the childhood version of the central character in the charming Italian comedy La pecora nera. He's the kid on the left at the start of the clip below.



OSELLA for Best Cinematography to:
OVSYANKI (SILENT SOULS) - Mikhail Krichman (RUS)
I won't dare go against the grain here. The critics favourite movie here (at least based on aggregate scores taken for the festival's daily trade paper), 'Ovsyanki' is a remarkable Russian drama about an obscure, now forgotten burial ritual, directed by Aleksei Fedorchenko. Mikhail Krichman's cinematography is suburb here, especially in its treatment of bleak, yet beautiful Russian landscapes. Some of the shots in this film blew my mind.



OSELLA for Best Screenplay to:
LA PASSION - Umberto Contarello, Doriana Leondeff, Carlo Mazzacurati, Marco Pettenello (ITA)
This quirky little Italian comedy, about a film-maker who is roped into directing an amateur production of The Passion of Christ after he inadvertently destroys an old fresco, was really funny and took a delightfully irreverent look at Catholicism, film-making and acting. I doubt it'll get much distribution outside of Italy, which is a pitty.



SPECIAL LION FOR AN OVERALL WORK to:
The Chinese film industry
This award was made up by the jury in order to give a statue to Tarantino's mentor, Monte Hellman ('The Road Nowhere'). But I'm giving it to the Chinese film industry, which is giving Hollywood a run for its money. I saw around nine Chinese film's in Venice, ranging from a youth-orientated dance flick ('Showtime'), to martial arts movies ('Di Renjie' (below), 'Reign of Assassins' and 'Legend of the Fist'), to the gritty, realist historical drama 'The Ditch' - as well as one 3D animated short film, 'Space Guy'.

I didn't like all of them, but they were all pretty well made and interesting in their own way. What I reall admire is that there are so many. OK, I understand China is a pretty huge country, but all the same: there were no British films in competition at all. And the only British movies that did play at the festival were small, installation art pieces (like the dreary 'Robinson in Ruins') and not "entertainment" aimed at audiences. The British industry needs to order whatever the Chinese are drinking.


So there you have it! My picks of the best from Venice 2010.