While I definitely am looking forward to meeting Peter,
Paul, David, Abraham, and Moses; I must admit that will also be in line to
shake Ehud’s hand. His story is not only
intriguing, but it’s one of the funniest and most disgustingly violent accounts
in the Bible. Not being a certified
Theologian or anything, I can only express my personal opinion; which is that the
graphic nature of Ehud’s story is meant to be a warning, is meant to shame
wickedness, and is meant to be hilarious.
If you’re not familiar with Ehud, then you should immediately go read
Judges, Chapter 3. Basically Ehud shows
up at evil King Eglon’s palace, gets searched by an inept guard (who doesn’t
know about left-handed people apparently) approaches the king, announces that
he has “a message from God”, plunges a dagger into the king’s belly (did I
mention that the king is uber-fat), and escapes with plenty of time to spare
because the kings guards are accustomed to the king spending a good part of the
day “relieving himself”.
I believe the previous introduction is relevant when
reviewing “Pulp Fiction” and “Django” because the director Quentin Tarantino has
made two films that invoke responses similar to the Ehud account. Before I continue, let me be crystal clear
that I am not suggesting that Tarantino’s films are good as I would describe
the Bible to be. Any positive messages
or lessons to be learned from a Tarantino film are almost certainly
unintentional. That being said, the
Bible does contain accounts of evil, and it is possible to sin if we become
obsessed with violence or the profane; liking Ehud, Samson or even David for
the wrong reasons is wrong. That being said,
let me tell you what I think about Tarantino’s best and his newest:
“Pulp Fiction” doesn’t have any good guys which makes the
two moments when characters “do the right thing” extremely effective. Butch is a boxer who just double-crossed some
gangsters and Jules is a gangster who likes to “quote scripture” before he
executes his victims. As an audience we
expect these characters to behave a certain way, and it is genuinely surprising
when they decide to change, helping those around them instead of acting
selfishly. Quentin Tarantino liberally
applies Newton’s Third Law of Motion to “Pulp Fiction’s” structure; the more
extreme a situation, the greater potential exists. Tarantino uses this approach in unexpected ways;
he begins film with two guys having a discussion about mayonnaise on French fries,
which evolves into a debate about foot messages. The audience is confused, is this a gangster
movie or not? Then Jules starts “quoting
scripture” and he and his partner Vincent unload their handguns into an unarmed
victim. Had Tarantino simply followed two
hitmen talking about hitmen stuff, follwed by them killing someone, the sequence would not have
been nearly as effective.
While “Pulp Fiction’s” structure is important, it’s
Tarantino’s writing which distinguishes this film from all subsequent imitations. Tarantino’s characters speak with a certain poetry
and fluidity which seems perfectly natural.
Having an ear for the vernacular, Tarantino writes characters who are
intentionally profane and unconsciously profound. I would suggest that the irony of this is
comparable to Mark Twain’s writing; even the most ignorant of people will
stumble upon the truth from time to time.
There is a sequence towards the end of “Pulp Fiction” where Jules and
Vincent are arguing about the definition of a miracle; does scale factor into determining
whether or not God’s intervention can be characterized as a miracle? Even wicked people who offend God with their
daily lives can recognize God’s existence.
“Pulp Fiction” should serve as a warning; sometimes it difficult to
distinguish between a gangster and a church-going, law-abiding, regular guy or
gal. Let’s make sure that the world
knows us because we’re different, set apart; if there’s any confusion it should only
because the gangsters are acting or sounding like us.
There is so much more I would like to say about “Pulp
Fiction”, but let us flash forward eighteen years to Tarantino’s newest film, “Django”. Briefly I should mention the films in-between,
because as a body of work they are relevant to the conclusion I draw about “Django”. “Jackie Brown” was a heist film. “Kill Bill” (volumes 1 and 2) were revenge
flicks. “Deathproof”, while it contained
elements of a horror movie with its cautionary tale was ultimately a revenge
flick. “Inglorious Basterds” was a
jumbled mix of John Ford, fantasy historical fiction, and once again a revenge
flick. Is anyone else noticing a
trend? I’ll cut to the chase and reveal
that “Django” too is at its core a revenge flick. I don’t know about you, but I find our
country’s history of slavery to be repugnant.
I will freely admit that the premise of “Django” which follows a freed
slave administering justice upon brutal slave owners is quite satisfying at
times. There is something within us that
longs for wrongs to be righted, and even though we have been commanded not to
seek vengeance for ourselves, it’s impossible not to root for a slave with a
gun in his hand. Jamie Foxx plays the
title character convincingly as a man who has been scarred by slavery. As a scarred man he carries evidence both physically
and emotionally of the abuse which he has suffered, yet he has an internal strength
and resolve which have been tempered by his years of bondage. A bounty hunter played by Christoph Waltz
frees Django and they work together in a relationship which is financially
beneficial to Waltz’s character and is necessary for Django to rescue his wife. The best parts of “Django” are the moments
between Waltz and Foxx; the subtle complexity of their relationship is the
center of this film. As Waltz’s
character becomes less concerned with his own financial gain and more sympathetic
to Django’s plight, I found myself liking him more and more. Django on the other hand begins spiraling
downwards, as his love for wife becomes a secondary motivation; a vengeful
bloodlust is Django’s new master. Unfortunately,
“Django” isn’t a good western, it’s not a good love story, and it’s not even
among the top three best Tarantino films…
So what’s left is a revenge flick, and since Tarantino has already done
that at least four times (and with better results in Kill Bill vol. 2), “Django”
just doesn’t have much to offer. The
Waltz character, some of the dialogue, DiCaprio as a villain and a certain
soundtrack choice reminded me of Tarantino’s capacity for genius, too bad the
rest of the movie couldn’t keep up.
I forgot to mention that King Eglon was so fat that Ehud
couldn’t get his dagger back out. How’s
that for a legacy?
