2: Django Unchained
This is easily Tarantino’s most misshapen, divisive film, in a decade full of misshapen, divisive Tarantino films. So why should I think it’s also his best? I’ve enjoyed most of his catalogue thoroughly, but Django is the least Tarantino-y Tarantino movie yet, and it’s all the better for it. Sure, the genre subversions, orgiastic violence, and B-movie references are all still evident, but for once, they don’t feel like they exist solely to massage the egos of film nerds.
This is Tarantino making good on the transition he started with Inglorious Basterds, going from fanboy turned industry badboy, to storyteller with something to say. The more the conversation of a new Tarantino movie shifts away from the man himself, the better; maybe then it won’t so easy to mention his name six times in 136 words.
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