We’re boss, you know why? Tarantino made us more stylized than actual characters. Boom!
Let’s say I make the world’s greatest meatloaf. You like meatloaf. No duh, dummy, everyone likes meatloaf. It’s the tits. It’s meat and bread and vegetables ALL IN ONE!!!! So, wonderful, I’m making the world’s greatest meatloaf, you’re pumped as shit. Sweet, right? Now let’s say I made the world’s greatest meatloaf for a million more years. Day in, day out, just shoveling that wad o’ meat in your face every day for a million years. I’m betting you’re going to start throwing that shit up after ten consecutive years.
That’s the strange thing about great things. They’re only great in moderation. I mean, one of the key things that makes thing radical is not experiencing them often. Like, the Grand Canyon is only grand when you see it once ever ten years. Otherwise it’s just a fucking canyon. Fuck, I’m going crazy with fucking analogies, I’ll just cut to the quick. Django Unchained is good, ok?! But it’s got me fucking worried that Tarantino has turned into a caricature of his former self.
Ok, so the movie stars Ray Charles as a slave. And he’s all sad, cause he’s a slave and his wife got sold and shit. So then Hans Landa, German Nazi Soldier, buys him and turns him into a bounty hunter. You know, cause Nazi’s don’t give a fuck. They then spend hours, and I do mean three hours, trying to find Ray Charles’ wife who is being held by Bad Teeth Jack Dawson.
Again, great flick. I laughed. I cried. I masturbated into a popcorn bucket. You know, the whole spectrum of human emotions going on here. But, fuck, it was obvious, ya know? Dudes got killed. The score was retro. And the cinematography was, well, also retro.
But, while watching, I realized that I haven’t seen a new Taratino film since Jackie Brown. They’re all the fucking same!! They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but they’re the same. Violence! Sex Perverts! Weird German dudes! Repeat! Over and over again, meatloaf for a million years!!
And the Taratino positions himself as this giant artist, “I’m above other directors. I used washed up actors in my films. You should like me because I’m cool.” For the first time in his cinematic history, I’m not buying it. Ok, fine, you want to make another film, Tarantino? Great! Do something different. Write a small character piece about two dudes in a coffee shop, for all I care. But, please, seriously, learn a new a fucking trick. Cause, I swear, if you make the same film again, I’m not gonna give you a pass.
Grade: B
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