Pulp Fiction and Django Unchained

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?