Quentin Tarantino is at his best when working in a man's world. His missteps (regardless of severity) occur when having his inherently masculine dialogue heavily funneled through female voices. It is through no fault of the females cast that these films are flawed; Tarantino simply doesn't write well in the female voice.
In Django Unchained, Tarantino is back walking through a man's world with men spouting his dialogue.
And it is superb.
The premise--freed-slave bounty hunter turns the Deep South at the end of antebellum upside-down with his German partner to free his wife--sets the stage for a deliciously bloody spectacle that Tarantino excels in--it was his panache in both the areas of hyper-stylized banter and over-the-top violence that arguably redirected the course of American cinema in the 1990s.
Using the superb Christoph Waltz, who is extremely likely to be getting at least another Best Supporting Actor nomination, and fellow Oscar-winner Jamie Foxx, Tarantino has a pair whose cause is extremely easy to rally behind. Hell, Waltz was charismatic and likable as the bad guy in Inglourious Basterds. Here, their tête-à-tête is so effective and engaging that the 165 minute run-time flies by, never once letting the film feel long. Waltz is fucking fantastic, and Foxx fills the shoes of badass bounty hunter with a quiet but sure swagger.
In support, or more appropriately opposition, the adversarial cast of Leonardo DiCaprio, Don Johnson, Samuel L. Jackson, and Walton Goggins play up their roles with aplomb. With the rest of the slew of racists being cast and directed for the purpose of hilarity, Django Unchained is cast impeccably well.
Just as importantly, Django Unchained is blessed with a near-perfect script, and Tarantino's eye for the traditions of the genre (loosely, the Spaghetti Western) in relation to the mise-en-scene make for a fantastic film--probably his best since Pulp Fiction. It is a whole lot of fun, gleeful in its destruction and righteous in the vengeance exacted and bounties hunted. It also manages to deal with the subject of slavery in a manner that highlights the atrocities of the slave trade while not taking a Spielbergian heavy-handed preacher's tack. The slave traders and owners are mostly slaughtered, and rightfully so, but it still plays like an extremely violent Spaghetti Western, proving to be a disarmingly effective approach to addressing the issue.
All in all, it is hard to muster up anything negative to say about the film. Even with its length, Django Unchained is one of the most fun films of the year, consistently rewarding from beginning to end.
As the third season of Justified came to an end, there was little doubt in my mind that I was watching the best show on television. If I thought that I had the energy to actually do it, I would absolutely write something after each episode of the show. Unfortunately, I don't have that energy, I surely do not have the time, and far too many do a much better job than I could possibly do (I'm looking at you, Alan Sepinwall). Not having that energy should not give you the impression that I am anything less than completely enamored with the show.
In Justified, Graham Yost and Company have created a television universe so rich with compelling characters both good and bad that it forces comparisons to The Wire in sheer terms of its magnitude of truly enjoyable secondary and tertiary characters. The wide array of law enforcement officials, regular citizens, and criminals of varying degrees is impressive, but more impressive is the skill to which they are drawn. A Crank-like episode following the delinquent dipshit Dewey Crowe ultimately matters to the audience because for whatever reason we welcome Damon Herriman--playing an illiterate racist--into our homes, at least on screen. The simple fleeting appearance of Loretta McCready in the penultimate episode of season three couldn't help but elicit a smile from the audience, and her not striking one as a Van Halen fan beckoned a hearty subsequent laugh. We are conflicted when it comes down to who we actually want to mete out Dickie Bennett's comeuppance because, despite the fact that Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens is the show's protagonist, the character of Boyd Crowder draws us in and we simultaneously root for him to succeed--for him to avenge Ava.
Where the show draws its most strength is from the fact that it takes the world that Elmore Leonard created, gives it legs, expands upon it, lets it flourish into something so much bigger than it ever could have been in a book. Since the repopularization of serialized television, especially as cable television got into the mix and started paring down the production load to 10-13 episode seasons for a program, television has afforded writers the opportunity of telling much more complex stories than they had been afforded in any other medium. Even when given that latitude, most show-runners have not gotten their programs to the level that Justified now sits at in terms of having created a universe with a (mostly) singular protagonist in which there is such a dearth of richly imagined secondary characters to draw from each week that characters may pop up only once in a season if for no other reason than that there isn't enough time to fit them in more than that.
What Justified accomplished in its third season, though, was in adding so many characters to the mix working against each other and against Raylan that it was a marvel just to see where each episode went. Each character's motivations set them careening into and away from each other. Each character's actions consistently surprised while setting off interesting and unpredictable chain reactions. As each new event transpired, the turn that it took was unexpected leaving the viewer totally and blissfully unable to suss out where the plot would go next. The introduction of Robert Quarles and Ellstin Limehouse to the mix not only brought heavy hitters Neal McDonough and Mykelti Williamson into the Justified-fold but also added big-time players to struggle with Boyd Crowder and the re-emerged Wynn Duffy--played fantastically well by Jere Burns--for power in Harlan.
The ensuing orgy of machinations that these varied big bads played out against one another and Raylan was at once overwhelming (in the best possible way) and invigorating. With each one's motives never being entirely clear, the tidal shifts of power were a joy to watch. Even with the inimitable Walton Goggins getting considerably less screen time this season than in years past, the show wasn't lacking for its relative lack of Boyd Crowder goodness. Even with the dynamic between Boyd and Raylan being the most interesting aspect of the show, Graham Yost seems to have an eye on the long play and maintains a healthy dose of the two acting off of one another while keeping them from facing off in a final showdown. Goggins has forced them in this direction with his spectacular turn as Boyd, but the tension and drama between Raylan and Boyd has to build and build and build all the way until the show's end. The successful introduction of first Mags Bennett in Season Two and now Robert Quarles and Ellstin Limehouse in Season Three just shows how deftly they have been able to set up foils for Raylan while not blowing their load on the Boyd front.
Where Yost & Co. will take things in Season Four is anyone's guess. I, for one, am a bit leery about the talk of three four-episode mini arcs that Yost mentioned as a possibility at What's Alan Watching's Post-Mortem on Season Three, but at this point I'll gladly watch whatever they do. I'm on this ride until the end.
Despite their ridiculous obtuseness, the teasers for Justified that seem to have been running on FX since it wrapped up its second season last spring have certainly worked up everyone's feverish hunger for new episodes. As January 17th drew nearer, it grew harder and harder to keep my anticipation in check.
Holy shit was that anticipation justified warranted.
If one is to gauge where this third season may go from where "The Gunfighter" kicks things off, it is hard not to be watching on with baited breath, especially on the heels of Justified's fantastic second season. After a cursory nod to Deputy U.S. Marshal Raylan Givens having been shot in the finale of season two, writers Graham Yost and Fred Golan waste no time in establishing the fact that Raylan's years on the job have left him worse for wear, with his aim being off while rehabbing. Despite the fact that Winona is with child (which is played around with well in this first episode), this hints at a metaphorical impotence and as is evidenced here will force him to get by more and more on his wits.
As is usually the case, the show really hits its stride once Walton Goggins struts onto the screen as Boyd Crowder, with his tête-à-tête with Raylan in the Marshals office getting the show off the ground. The best moments in the show often come from their back and forth, and this is no exception with this priceless nugget of dialogue coming from it:
Boyd: Well now, if I found that kind of money, I'd be in Mexico by now.
Raylan: Boyd, I've been to Mexico. I don't think you'd like it.
Boyd: How so?
Raylan: There's a lot of Mexicans.
This is but one in many great moments in the episode. Dear John [the Judd Hirsch series] alum*, Jere Burns's character, Wynn Duffy, is set up to be featured more prominently as the next in line to head up the Dixie Mafia in Frankfort. His return to the show made for a funny exchange and a reneging on Raylan's promise that their "next conversation wasn't gonna be a conversation."
*And more recently, he was featured as the last remnant of The Management on Burn Notice.
The presumed big bad is introduced namelessly as Neal McDonough comes to Lexington representing the innocuously-named entity referred to as 'Detroit.' His character [whose name will be revealed to be Quarles at some point] clearly has both gravitas and panache and should prove to be a formidable foe, even if he only proves to be the tip of the 'Detroit' iceberg. His introduction is an impressive and cold-blooded one and leaves you wondering what could have been had Terriers been given a second season.
The imminent threat in this episode comes surprisingly from Dexter's Desmond Harrington, showing up here as wanted fugitive Fletcher 'The Ice Pick' Nix. While his choice of accent is odd to be sure, he does pull off menacing hitman pretty damned convincingly.
Luckily for all involved, the best moment is saved for last, and the one remaining question mark in the episode is answered with a silent Boyd exclamation point.
By the end of the episode, Justified had successfully resumed its status as the most eagerly anticipated hour of television every week.
So it occurs to me that I am way behind here. You can thank moving, an increased workload thanks in large part to the absence of a dirty damned leprechaun, and a trip to New Orleans to have the shit rocked out of my ass like a goddamn hurricane. As it stands, I am three blockbusters behind and still have to keep my string of Nic Cage movies seen in the theater alive, so The Sorcerer's Apprentice is waiting in the wings.
Since I started this post about a month ago (that first paragraph really is that old), my output has been roughly nil.
So... Predators...
I saw that movie. It was a long time ago. If you interchanged the title of Predators into the chorus of the song "Breakfast at Tiffany's" with the titular film, that would probably aptly describe my feelings about the film at this point. In fact, here you go:
Aren't you kind of happy I did that? You know you're happier...
Back to the film, though, yes, it's been a while, and if we're being honest, I did miss most of the scenes with Montana Fishburne's dad because I fell asleep, but I didn't doze off out of boredom. I was tired as shit but needed to see this film.
I'm happy I did.
It was fun. It was closest in spirit to the original film of any of the subsequent Predator titles--well, unless we start talking about "To Catch a Predator." I like the hunters being hunted concept, generally, and I think it's used to great effect here. Any elements of trepidation I had going into the film were generally related to the weird casting, but Topher Grace and the ridiculously cut Adrien Brody actually both work quite well in their respective roles. The bonuses (boni?) of having Oleg "The Russian Bear" Taktarov appearing unexpectedly (making both Peter and I very happy to see our old UFC buddy making the most of his skill set) and having Danny Trejo and Walton Goggins* threatening to kill each other for nearly every instant they're on film is pretty damn fun, even if the bickering could be trimmed down just a bit.
*Goggins's turn on the first season of "Justified" was outstanding, and the series's initial season has long been calling out to have been covered here.
Now, don't get me wrong, this is not a great film by any stretch of the imagination. The plot is thin to say the least. It is basically just the super hunters from earth find themselves on a planet where they are the prey. That's about it. You can figure out what happens from there. Humans get picked off by Predators one by one while they try to find their way off the planet. This is immaterial for the most part.
You don't find yourself waiting for the film to be over (although this could merely have been a side-effect of having fallen asleep), the action is paced well, the suspense is built aptly, and it is a generally enjoyable film. Ultimately, that's what matters most. Was it fun? Yes. Am I glad I saw it? Yes. Was I the only one who felt that way when we walked out of the theater? No. That wraps things up pretty succinctly, while giving you a flavor of Robert Evans to close things out.
The final season of The Shield has begun airing on FX, which is nothing if not bittersweet. Over its run, there have been some unforgettable moments. There was maybe the most brutal fight I've seen on television this side of Deadwood when Shane and Tavon faced off in the show's third season. Aceveda, when still Captain, was raped at gunpoint, after which he found his own way to exact revenge. Wagenbach surprisingly strangled a cat after getting eaten up by a serial killer case. Shane unilaterally decided that Lem needed to be taken care of and dropped a grenade in his old friend's lap. IAD Lt. Kavanaugh (portrayed by Forest Whitaker) pursued Mackey voraciously for two seasons. Hell, Anthony Anderson used "The Shield" as a platform to show he could act.
All of these moments for all of these characters are all really window dressing, though. Since the show's inception, it has been propelled by the actions of Vic Mackey, who much to a certain friend of mine's chagrin is masterfully played by Michael Chiklis.
When the show began, we were introduced to a protagonist who ran things very crooked (the pilot ended with him shooting a departmental mole that had been placed on his Strike Team), but there did seem to be a cause for all the mayhem. As the conditions of the streets of Farmington (a fictional, crime-ridden barrio in Los Angeles) are brought to light, it becomes quickly clear that conventional police work will probably prove to be insufficient. Vic and the Strike Team make the city safer by allowing for the gangs to run things relatively unfettered by police interference as long as conflicts remain bloodless. Once a drop of blood hits the pavement, though, they will lash back at the gangs with an unholy force.
It is clear from the start that--regardless of the moral implications inherent in an oversight of this nature--the effectiveness makes it necessary.
As the show progresses, Vic ends up getting in deeper and deeper, drifting further from operating anywhere near a moral center. Greed starts to play into his motivations; the Strike Team knocks off an Armenian money train; more and more of his actions are driven by self-preservation, which becomes more and more convoluted the deeper he gets.
With the first two episodes of this season, the culmination of all of his shady dealings are (is?)coming to a head. With the Armenians having put out a hit on Vic's family in last season's finale (because of Shane selling Vic out to the Armenians, which Vic doesn't fully know), Vic saw fit to pit the Armenians (who now think that the Strike Team is out to help them) against the Mexican gangs in an all-out turf war, but that is already spiralling out of control, much like Vic's life seems to be.
His lies are catching up to him, and as time passes those lies are accumulating at an exponential rate. In the show's final run, we are sure to see something explode. Whether or not the explosion is as big as the mess Vic has made for himself over seven season is yet to be seen. It should be impressive.
