Saturday 16 February 2013

Spaghetti Southern (A Django Unchained review)

People have asked me many times, 'Why is Django so successful?' I tell them this: because Django was for the workers. He represents all those guys who've ever said, 'Let me tell ya something. I'm gonna go tomorrow and see my boss and say, "Things are gonna be different from now on..."' - Franco Nero
Released in 1966, Sergio Corbucci's Django is the blood-soaked tale of a lone drifter wandering across the Wild West, dragging a coffin behind him, seeking vengeance in the name of his wife. Often considered one of the most violent films ever made (the title character gets his hands crushed, a man is forced to eat his own severed ear), it found a global cult audience everywhere except the UK, where it was banned for twenty-odd years. Django as a "series" (for want of a better term) has been odd; there's only been one official sequel with lead actor Franco Nero (1987's Django Strikes Again), but characters named Django have appeared in thirty-one films, mostly played by different actors.

So Django Unchained, Quentin Tarantino's second blaxploitation flick after Jackie Brown in 1997 AND his first stab at making a Spaghetti Western, fits into this weird little canon. And, true to Tarantino form, it might be one of his best yet.

(NOTE: This entry discusses racial slurs in a fair amount of detail, so this may be NSFW.)