"Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood" - Tarantino's Hilarious Nostalgic Fairy Tale

This post is more like a general review. I don’t technically own this film yet, but I definitely will. When that happens, I like to write my initial thoughts as a review and re-visit the film after I’ve bought it to give it my usual treatment. The biggest difference is that I won’t have a Random Thoughts section since I wasn’t able to write those down as I watched (which is what I do for regular posts on this site). I will still be writing this review with SPOILERS, however, because I don’t feel like tip-toeing around the points I want to make about the film. 

Quentin Tarantino’s work has always been tied to other films, so it makes sense that he would finally make a film overtly about Hollywood. Specifically, he made a film about the Hollywood he loved and wished had never changed. As usual, he masterfully recreated an era and the films and TV shows from said era in such a way that the film is enjoyable on the surface alone. 

I wasn’t alive during the time period represented in Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood, so I have no feelings of nostalgia for most of the things presented here. But Tarantino’s obsessive love for the time period comes across so strongly that I ended up wishing I had experienced it. By the end of the film, I was just like Tarantino: I wanted this world to keep going and never change.

Which brings me to the “twist” ending that some people have had issues with (I’ve avoided most press about the film because I like to keep my thoughts untainted, but I have seen article titles about the ending, and I’ve seen a few theories that want to explain away the ending as Cliff’s acid hallucination [which I completely disagree with]). By having Cliff and Rick (and Brandy!) take out the would-be murderers, Tarantino did two things. First, after building up to the murder we all knew was coming, he found a way to surprise us by literally changing history. Second, and more importantly in my opinion, he made this film the fairy tale its title suggested it was in the first place. 

The focus on Sharon Tate throughout the film wasn’t meant to create foreboding for her eventual murder that we all knew was coming. It was meant to show the pure joy Tate had as a successful actress in Hollywood. This is what Rick was wanting the entire film. He wanted to get through that gate to become connected to Tate so his career could become what he always wanted it to be. 

Taking out the Manson cult members at the end was a bit of gleeful wish fulfillment, much like Tarantino did in Inglourious Basterds by killing Hitler. In both films, I found myself laughing and enjoying myself more than any other time I can remember at the movies. It’s easy to cheer for the grisly demise of such people, and I love how Tarantino uses grotesque violence for humor rather than simple shock and disgust. 

While both endings represent wish fulfillment for historical events, Hollywood is deeper than that because Tarantino has such affection for the time period in Hollywood that was brought to an end (in large part because of the Manson murders). With Basterds, I think killing Hitler was more about being able to give the team a win at the end. That’s fine, but I think Hollywood’s ending is more satisfying thematically. 

The ending is only successful because Tarantino spent so much time setting up the world before that moment. He recreated a Hollywood I want to hang out in, and, most importantly, he created characters I want to hang out with. Leonardo DiCaprio and Brad Pitt are so great together that I wish the scene of them hanging out watching TV together went on twice as long. They come across as genuine friends. My only complaint about the film is that they spend too much time apart during it. But each character’s journey is entertaining enough that you don’t notice it that much. 

DiCaprio has found in Tarantino another director that brings out the best in him. DiCaprio has a lot to do here, and he nails it. There’s the stuttering insecure Rick, there’s the actor Rick who has to put on a public face of confidence, and there are all of the characters he portrays. The most notable character was the heavy in an episode of Lancer, which is one my favorite sequences in the film. The filmmaking alone in that sequence is great as Tarantino effortlessly switches back and forth between the actual show and the mistakes Rick makes that stop the scene. He draws you into the scene so much that you start to forget that you’re not watching an actual western. But it’s DiCaprio’s performance both as a successful actor and as an insecure actor that make it special. The two show-stopping moments for me are Rick’s trailer freak out and his nailing of the kidnapping scene. 

Pitt plays a simpler character but that doesn’t mean his scenes or performance are lacking. Cliff the more tragic of the two, and it’s arguable that the ending saves his way of life more than Rick’s. Pitt portrays Cliff as fearless and carefree, but there’s a hint of melancholy to the performance that makes it one of Pitt’s most subtle and enjoyable performances of his career. 

There are an embarrassing amount of amazingly cast side characters that I’ll wait to write about when I can re-visit the film at home. But I did want to comment on Margot Robbie’s performance as Sharon Tate. Her lack of lines is a criticism that Tarantino has faced, and I can see the argument. Her character is probably too silent, but I believe it’s because Tarantino was using her as the embodiment of what Rick wanted, both as a career and in life. Obviously he wanted to get close to Polanski to possibly work with him and elevate his career. But more importantly he wanted to be like Tate when she watches herself in the theater. He wanted to entertain people and be loved. And it’s a credit to both Tarantino’s script and Robbie’s performance that she didn’t need many lines to convey this. When Tarantino could be bothered to take the camera off of her feet, you could see all the hope and happiness to make this point in Robbie’s face. I can understand why people think her lack of lines and screentime is problematic, but I also don’t think the movie is about her at all. She simply represents a Hollywood that both Tarantino and Rick want, and you don’t necessarily need a lot of lines to get that point across.

The performances and amazing moments (like the also controversial Bruce Lee scene) are enough to make this movie one of my favorites of the year, but it’s the foreboding feeling throughout the film that cements it as my number one film (there are a lot of movies still to come out, of course, but I feel confident that this movie will stay in my top three at least). The foreboding feeling is mainly the Manson murders that the audience is thinking of every time we see Tate on screen. But the foreboding isn’t just about the terrible murders that were going to happen in reality; it was also about the end of an era. The film I’m most reminded of in this regard is Inherent Vice (so much so that I immediately re-watched it and will write about it next). That divisive film is one of my favorites from Paul Thomas Anderson because the whole film is about the end of the carefree ‘60s and the beginning of the paranoia of the ‘70s that still persists to this day. It was when we stopped living in the moment and started living in fear (“we” culturally speaking since I didn’t actually experience this cultural shift). The movie is largely a comedy but with this feeling of dread throughout that I found fascinating. This is why I love Once Upon a Time...in Hollywood. It’s one of the funniest movies in recent memory, but it also says something about what happened to our culture in this time period without ever actually having to say anything.

Because of Tarantino’s set up for the first two-plus hours, when we finally reach the boiling point and the violent climax occurs, the true point of the movie is clear: Tarantino, a man who has built his career paying homage to the films and TV shows he loves, longs for this time period and wants it to last forever. And as a filmmaker, he can change history in the form of this fairy tale, and imagine what could have been. 

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Slightly (Sort of) Underrated Scorsese: "Shutter Island"

*This is not a traditional review, so don’t expect much in the way of summary (I hate summary in any reviews, really, because it makes them seem like junior high book reports). My articles are meant for people who have seen the movie and have a decent memory of it.

**Also, I typically don’t refer to character names. So when I write “DiCaprio” I’m really referring to the character he played.

A Master Playing in the Sewer

Shutter Island was a critical (68% on Rotten Tomatoes) and commercial success (at the time, it was Scorsese’s biggest hit), so how can I refer to it as even slightly underrated? Well, because of the first note I typed when re-watching it: “It’s great when such a cast and crew decide to make a genre film.” What a bullshit, backhanded thing to write about an interesting, beautiful, and effective film. And I’m not alone.

The consensus on Rotten Tomatoes states that it “may not rank with Scorsese’s best work, but…” Is that how we judge films? I’m a firm believer in judging a movie on its own. It’s okay to make comparisons to other films, especially if there is a connection. But being made by the same director isn’t a good enough connection. I’m guilty of this, by the way. I’m sure if I go through my Paul Thomas Anderson reviews, I’ll find something along the lines of, “It’s no There Will Be Blood, but…” It’s simply an unfair way to judge movies. How can I compare Shutter Island to Goodfellas or Taxi Driver? The reason why those three films would be discussed within the same article is Scorsese. It wouldn’t have anything to do with style or themes. And if it did, it would be a bit of a stretch.

So Shutter Island is underrated, because even those who praised it typically did so with a caveat. Scorsese is taking a break from ambitious movies to have fun with a genre film, e.g. And then there’s the twist, revealing that the whole film was an exercise for DiCaprio to face what he had done or end up getting lobotomized. Critics either thought it was a good twist, or they claim it wasn’t a good enough pay off. I never thought the twist was the point. If we’re going to focus on such a master dwelling in the sewer of a genre film, then shouldn’t we revel in the filmmaking and not the twist. That’s what I did in my original review, and watching it again, the little elements are what kept me interested.

Can You Judge a Twist if You Know It’s Coming Before You Watch the Film?

I’m one of those annoying people who read the book a movie is based on then claim that the book is better. While that is still the case for the most part, there have been exceptions, Shutter Island being one of them. Liking the book more isn’t the point here, however. Since I read the book, I knew what the twist was when I first watched the movie. Therefore it’s impossible for me to really judge how good the twist is. To me, it’s painfully obvious fairly early, but I was looking for it. That said, this movie takes place at a mental institution and any show or movie that takes place in such a location usually ends up being a movie in which things are not as they seem.

For that reason, I kind of hate mental institution movies. They can be exhausting, and they seem to be the same: person visits asylum, ends up stuck there, uncovers vast conspiracy/corruption, is accused of being crazy, saves the day and/or destroys the asylum. Shutter Island doesn’t follow this exactly, but it’s close. But I still love it, and it’s because I already knew the twist.

The film ends up being different for me because I wasn’t trying to figure out who to trust or whatever the whole time. Instead, I was looking for the clues Scorsese included and his filmmaking technique in general to create a paranoid mood.

The use of music at the beginning is the most obvious clue, in my opinion. As they approach, dread-inducing music plays very loudly. Sure, it could just be setting up bad stuff ahead, but I believe it’s in DiCaprio’s subconscious because he knows he’s actually a patient there. I comment on the music quite a bit in my original review, and my thoughts remain the same: it’s a great score that is effective and noticeable without being overbearing.

Camera techniques are used to create a sense of paranoia, as well. Specifically, whip pans are employed throughout. It’s a disorienting technique, and it almost makes it seem like things appear out of nowhere, which must be a bit like DiCaprio’s state of mind. Along with the camerawork, the editing in general is similar, with quick cuts to images from DiCaprio’s mind throughout.

Finally, Scorsese’s use of continuity errors is particularly interesting. Scorsese, or his editor Thelma Schoonmaker, I should say, is no stranger to continuity errors. I’m always reminded of a shot in The Departed showing Nicholson walking, his back to the camera, obviously smoking. When the shot switches to the front, he is no longer smoking. That kind of thing is pretty normal for Scorsese’s more chaotic films. Referring specifically to The Wolf of Wall Street, but applying to any of Scorsese’s less restrained films, Schoonmaker said, “continuity in a movie like this really doesn’t matter.” It has become kind of a trademark for Scorsese films, which makes Shutter Island an interesting example.

With Shutter Island, many of the continuity errors are intentional, the most notable of which being the scene when a patient being interviewed requests a glass of water. A full glass of water is handed to her, but when she brings it up to drink her hand is clearly empty, then she sets down an empty glass. There are more, but that one sticks out to me, and it’s a great example of using, or misusing, continuity to create a sense of things being off. It’s also convenient for the filmmaker, since every error can be claimed to be intentional now.

I know all this continuity stuff can be boring, but when you watch a lot of movies, you tend to notice this stuff. And when you’re watching a Scorsese movie featuring a mentally unstable main character, noticing this stuff is the reward of a close viewing. Here’s a video going into more detail about the glass of water scene, which focuses on the use of fire and water in the film, which is something I did not pick up on nearly as much as the creator of the video, but I completely agree with.

Shutter Island is a great example of a twist ending not being the most important part of the movie. And when you look back at all the clues, it doesn’t seem like much a twist at all, because the movie is told from DiCaprio’s perspective. He may not notice these clues, but the viewer might, which makes Shutter Island an interesting, entertaining watch, regardless of whether you knew the twist or not.

PTSD, again.

Most of my articles from the last few months are about movies with characters suffering from PTSD. Aside from the William Friedkin article, this is not intentional, but here we are again with DiCaprio’s multiple flashbacks to his experiences liberating a concentration camp in WWII.

First off, I’m going to try to take a break from movies featuring this subject, since it’s almost becoming my trademark or something. But since it’s there, I can’t ignore it, especially since I think it plays a bigger factor than many give it credit for.

Since the focus of DiCaprio’s problems is on his wife and their children, his experience in the war is cast aside. I agree that his wife is the primary issue here, but his WWII experience, I believe, leads him to make the decision he makes at the end.

DiCaprio basically agrees to be lobotomized because the treatment worked, and he remembered what had happened with his wife and children. He feels responsible for all of it. So he asks Ruffalo if it’s better “to live as a monster or die a good man.” He makes this choice partially because of his WWII experience. He has seen monsters, and he cannot be one himself.

Random Thoughts

I love the aesthetic experience of the film. The imagery, camerawork, and music are all on point.

The WWII in particular stuck with me. The Nazi slowly dying from a “botched” suicide attempt, the flying papers, the music, etc. It was all very eerie. But that tracking shot of the execution of the guards always bothered me. Unless the guards only started shooting one right after the other rather than en masse, then the shot makes no sense. The way it is presented, the shooting starts with DiCaprio’s section, then as the camera makes its way down the line the other soldiers begin shooting, which means that last soldier stood there while shooting was happening and waited about a half minute to start shooting. It just doesn’t make sense. But as I wrote about the continuity stuff, something occurred to me: this isn’t necessarily how things happened. This is how DiCaprio remembers it happening. If that’s the case, then the camera moving is DiCaprio reliving the shooting, so it happens the way his brain creates it.

Ebert liked it!

Watching in the theater was great, mainly for the sound. I remember that score just blasting through the speakers as they approached the asylum.

Ted Levine! But he’s barely in it.

The movie is a conspiracy theorist’s dream. Everything keeps adding up, but it’s because DiCaprio wants it to. It’s actually an indictment of conspiracy theories. You would have to be crazy to make everything fit your own story to justify your existence.

An English Teacher Reviews "The Great Gatsby"

Directed by Baz Luhrmann, written by Luhrmann & Craig Pearce, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Tobey Maguire, Carey Mulligan, Joel Edgerton, Isla Fisher, and Jason Clarke - Rated PG-13

Preface: This review is mainly for people who have also read the novel.  I didn’t focus much on how the film will be perceived by non-readers simply because I cannot imagine what their experience might be like.  That said, I get the impression that if you liked Baz Luhrmann’s other films, like Romeo + Juliet or Moulin Rouge, then you will like The Great Gatsby.

 

I represent a dark side of America, too, friendo.

 

 

The Great Gatsby has been the bane of high school students for years.  The story, set in the 1920s, is filled with symbolism and disillusionment, two things most teenagers aren’t very concerned with.  As an English teacher, I looked forward to the challenge the book presented as a teaching device, but I was disappointed that there was not an interesting adaptation to show my students after reading.  For better or worse, English teachers all over now have the adaptation they need to show students to get a response. 

 

I am not a “movie teacher.”  By that, I mean that movie days in my class are few and far between.  I may be the “movie guy” to my friends and colleagues, but when it comes to literature, there is no replacement for honestly reading the material.  Faithful adaptations are anathema to my classes.  The only reason to show a class a movie is to aid in their understanding of the source material and, more importantly, get them to think about it in new, interesting ways.  I always require students to write an essay after watching an adaptation.  What can you write about a faithful adaptation?  “I liked watching more than reading”?  “The lighting was good”?  A plain film serves no purpose.  I prefer the crazier adaptations because they keep students interested and opinionated.  When I first read that writer/director Baz Luhrmann (Romeo + Juliet) was making The Great Gatsby, I knew this version would be worth watching.

I was able to take my junior class to see The Great Gatsby on opening day (special thanks to Tell City Cinemas for setting up the individual screening for my class).  We had recently finished reading the novel, and I was hoping this adaptation would be interesting enough to get a response from them.  That definitely proved to be the case.  This version of Gatsby is not only interesting, but, more importantly, it’s entertaining.

 

The same qualities I find interesting and entertaining may leave some people baffled, however.  The most obvious element up for debate is the use of music in the film.  The soundtrack is largely made up of current rap and pop artists, yet the film is still firmly set in the 1920s.  I think the music matches up perfectly with the tone of the film.  The music was an odd fit at first, but by the end it seemed natural to me.  Others may disagree with me.  Some people will simply not be able to get past the fact that music from the 2010s is playing while 1920s characters dance.  It can be jarring, but if you’re willing to go with it, I think it is one of the film’s strongest points.

 

Equally important is the casting of the film.  The role of Gatsby is important in that it requires an actor who can express elegance, charisma, and boundless hope.  That pretty much describes Leonardo DiCaprio to a T, so obviously he was perfectly cast in this.  It isn’t exactly a stretch of a role for the eternally young actor, but that doesn’t make it any less impressive.  On the more surprising side, Tobey Maguire made for a very effective Nick Carraway.  Maguire’s constant stare of boyish wonder usually annoys me, but it’s the perfect visage for the character of Carraway.  It is especially effective once Nick becomes sickened by those around him and that boyish stare turns into a dead glare.  Carey Mulligan makes it easy to feel sympathy for Daisy.  Joel Edgerton brings perfect physicality to the role of Tom.  Jason Clarke is effective as Wilson in a few short scenes.  And Isla Fisher is decent as Myrtle, but that character felt a little shortchanged in this adaptation.

 

Shortchanged characters aside, Gatsby is a surprisingly faithful adaptation.  Of course there are a few changes here and there, such as the absence of Gatsby’s father and the inclusion of a framing device for the story, but the overall theme of the novel is intact, which is the most important aspect to me.  The theme regarding the death of the American dream is still relevant today (and always will be) which is why the novel is still taught to students across the country.  The film does a good job conveying that theme and an even better job at explaining the symbolism of the novel.  Anyone who’s read the novel probably remembers the green light and the eyes of Dr. T. J. Eckleburg, and if you don’t remember them, the film will make sure that you do by the end of the 140+ minute running time.  I’m glad both elements received so much attention in the film, though I think some of it was a bit too blatant (Wilson pointing at the eyes and screaming that they are the “eyes of God” comes to mind). 

 

The music, acting, and novel elements are all excellent fodder for a student to write a response, but there’s still the matter of style.  Luhrmann has established himself as an interesting director many times over, but Romeo + Juliet is the best comparison to be made here.  That film featured frenetic elements and borderline cartoonish qualities.  Gatsby takes place in a more realistic world than that film, but it is still frantic.  The driving scenes are insane, the editing is rapid-fire, and the party scenes are pure chaos. 

 


The partying is the main selling point for Gatsby, both as a film and a novel.  I certainly focused on it heavily while teaching it.  The point is not to glorify it, though.  The parties or drinking episodes in the novel are not treated as good times meant to be emulated by others.  Instead, we see the parties through Nick’s eyes, and he has come to the conclusion that these events are not happy moments, but are actually the shallow proceedings of a morally bankrupt group.  It’s easy to get that point when you’re reading about the parties; it’s a bit more difficult to pick up on that message when the parties are visually presented with lavish dance numbers and whatnot, all presented in 3D, no less.  (For the record, I have not seen the film in 3D, but I can hardly imagine that it changes the experience much one way or the other.)  Still, the film does not glorify the lifestyle of the characters.  Others may disagree because the parties take the center stage, but as I watched those scenes, I didn’t think, “Oh, how cool.”  My thoughts drifted more towards, “When will these parties end?”   



The Great Gatsby is essentially about the end of the party.  The novel and the film convey that message to the reader/viewer.  Is it possible that viewers will miss that point?  Of course, but they’ll stay awake through the proceedings.  The biggest hurdle any teacher faces while teaching Gatsby is the boredom complaint.  While I find the themes of the novel fascinating, I definitely encountered a student or two that “just didn’t get it” or “couldn’t get into it.”  As the kids filed out of the movie theater, even the ones who didn’t exactly love the movie told me they were surprised by how interested it kept them.  If that’s not a sign of a successful adaptation of a novel force fed to a teenager, I don’t know what is.





Random Thoughts (SPOILERS)




"I'm so tired of partying.  So very tired."

Yes, that is Slurms McKenzie from Futurama to the right.  I couldn't resist including it.

The framing device bothered me a little bit because it turned Carraway into an alcoholic.  Maybe I'm just too trusting of Carraway as a narrator, but I never got the impression that he was drinking himself into an institution throughout the novel.  In fact, I always pictured him as the sober guy at the party, casting judgment on everyone.  I think the novel backs me up on this since the one scene in which he admits being drunk (at Myrtle's apartment) is a haze of random events (staged wonderfully in the movie, by the way), while the rest of the parties are reported on in quite a sober manner.  Having him constantly drink throws doubt on the entire proceeding.  I know there's a question of his bias as a narrator anyway, but the alcohol makes him seem much more like an unreliable narrator. 

That said, I still accept the framing device since it gives a reason for the words to appear onscreen.  The teacher/dork in me enjoyed seeing some of Fitzgerald's greatest lines recreated that way.

I was okay with Gatsby's dad not showing up at the end.  It seems almost better that he's absent so he seems that much more alone in death. 

I was not okay with the absence of Daisy and Tom's daughter.  I know she finally shows up in the end, but I think it would have been very effective had she appeared in the other scenes she was supposed to be in, especially the one with Gatsby.  In the novel, Gatsby reacts strangely to the child, appearing to not have believed she existed until that moment.  It is effective because it is part of the crumbling dream he has.  Here is physical proof that Daisy and Tom have something together.  It is obviously not part of his grand fantasy.  I can live without the scene, but I think the film would have been better with it, and it would only have taken up thirty seconds or so of the running time.

Gatsby doesn't freak out and almost punch Tom in the novel, but I enjoyed that change.  In the novel, Gatsby suffers a quiet defeat.  That's fine, and it shows how dreams can, and often do, die silent deaths.  But that scene in the hotel room was building with such tension that a quiet ending would have been a let down.  Everyone is sweating and uncomfortable, there's a topic brought up that would normally be kept quiet, there's an ice pick... That scene needed some yelling to finish it up.  And who better to yell out in fury than DiCaprio?

I was definitely not okay with Gatsby being a scrapbooker.  In the novel, he mentions that he has some "clippings" of Daisy, but it doesn't say he busts out a full scrapbook that has been carefully put together.  I know Gatsby had some time to kill in that five years leading up to the reunion, but I simply can't imagine him sitting home with his Elmer's rubber cement, pasting newspaper articles onto construction paper.  Sure, maybe he had a servant do it, but I don't buy that.  And it's equally ridiculous to imagine him handing newspaper clippings to a maid, demanding that a scrapbook be made.  Am I blowing this out of proportion?  Absolutely.  But sometimes small details like that really bother me.



Try Not To Be Offended and Just Enjoy "Django Unchained"

Django Unchained - Written and directed by Quentin Tarantino, starring Jamie Foxx, Christoph Waltz, Samuel L. Jackson, and Leonardo DiCaprio - Rated R

 

 

Quentin Tarantino has become a somewhat controversial figure in cinema. There are the Tarantino devotees, who have been on board since they first saw Reservoir Dogs and enjoy every single thing he does (I can nearly be classified as part of this group). Then there are the people that have been less than impressed with everything he has done since Pulp Fiction. I feel that he has become an internet target in that it’s cool to hate him since so many film nerds love everything he does. To be fair, he set himself up for this as his films have turned into a series of references to other, much more obscure films. What is the difference between copying and paying homage? I believe it comes down to opinion: if you enjoy his films, then Tarantino is paying homage; if you dislike the films, he’s stealing. This has been the issue with Tarantino for some time, but he opened up a new debate with his last film, Inglourious Basterds: is it okay to alter history and find humor within very serious situations? Once again, if you’re with the film, then yes, it’s totally okay. Now with Django Unchained, a cartoonishly violent, surprisingly funny film about slavery, Tarantino asks this question of the audience again, and my answer is an emphatic “yes.”

I love most of Tarantino’s work (Death Proof just didn’t work for me), but I rarely take it seriously. I think the filmmaker sets out to simply entertain people, which means he must do whatever he thinks is best to accomplish that. If that’s constantly using cheesy zooms taken from old kung fu movies, or spraying goofy amounts of blood from bullet wounds, or having the precursor to the Klan have a complaint session about holes in bags, then so be it. If it works, it works. This is why there can be laughter during a movie about slavery. Tarantino isn’t pretending to give a history lesson (this is the guy who decided to kill off Hitler in a movie theater, after all). He is trying to get you to enjoy yourself, and I enjoyed myself immensely throughout Django.

Entertainment as a goal doesn’t excuse a film from controversy, however. Some will be, and are, angry about the film. Complaints range from taking the slavery issue lightly at all to the many uses of the “N-word” throughout the film. I understand how all of this can be offensive, but I suppose I’m not easily offended. But be forewarned: this is certainly not a film for everyone. And even if some of the violence is portrayed as humorous, there are still very gruesome and brutal moments that will sicken people.

If you can get past all of the possibly offensive material, though, you will witness one of the best films of the year. The story of the lengthy film is relatively simple. Bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) frees Django (Jamie Foxx) because he needs his help tracking down some slavers. After they’re done, Schultz agrees to help Django find and rescue his wife, Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from the clutches of the delightfully evil Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his faithful servant, Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson).

The film ends up being quite lengthy because Tarantino has finally made his spaghetti western, and he couldn’t help but fill it with references. I won’t pretend to share Tarantino’s encyclopedic knowledge of film, but I did enjoy all of the little touches that I picked up here and there. It just feels good to watch the movie with a crowd and notice Franco Nero (the original Django from the 1966 film) and know that I am one of the only people that caught it.

That’s not to say that references alone make this film enjoyable. It’s loaded with Tarantino weirdness. From the hilarious and at times self-aware dialogue to the fact that Schultz drives around a carriage with a giant tooth on top of it; there is plenty here for the uninitiated viewer. Tarantino has struck a great balance of honest storytelling and his trademark weirdness. I like watching his films because I know that anything might happen, even if the story takes place in a historical setting.

Tarantino doesn’t get too crazy with anachronisms, except perhaps with the music. Modern day music, along with some classic songs, is used throughout the film. It might take some people out of the film, but I found the songs perfectly suitable for each scene. Tarantino seems to always find the ideal music for each of his films.

Django is not simply a stylishly violent film with a good soundtrack, though. Tarantino’s scripts have long been ripe material for actors. Jamie Foxx is great as Django, and his transition from frightened slave to empowered bounty hunter is a realistic one. Unfortunately for him, the supporting roles of the film are much more interesting than the title character. Christoph Waltz is gaining attention yet again for his supporting role (he won an Oscar for Basterds) as Schultz. It’s a fun performance, and he makes every line of dialogue lively. Samuel L. Jackson gives his best performance in years as the absolutely evil slave Stephen. His performance is impressive, and hilarious, because he gets to play up the stereotype of the helpful slave, but also gets to show the true ruthlessness of his character. Then there is Leonardo DiCaprio. There’s something inherently interesting about a character that you’re supposed to hate, and DiCaprio fully embraces that. People were up in arms when he wasn’t nominated for the Academy Award, but it’s a packed category this year. Waltz getting the nomination makes sense, but I’m surprised more people are not singing Jackson’s praises. I felt that his lack of a nomination was a bigger snub than DiCaprio. DiCaprio winning an Oscar is a question of when. Who knows when Jackson will take on another prestige role like this?

Django Unchained is the total package for me. It has great action, fitting music, a historical setting, spaghetti western influences, comedy, Tarantino’s style, and fun performances. Honestly, the only thing keeping this movie from being my favorite of the year is Daniel Day-Lewis’s portrayal of Lincoln. If not for that great performance, Django Unchained would be the best film of the year, in my opinion. Try not to be offended and enjoy Quentin Tarantino’s latest piece of entertainment.

"Inception"

*Quick note - I am giving this film a Vader. If you look at my rating system, you'll see that I claim that Vader represents the "perfect" movie. I've been meaning to change this for a while. It should say "near-perfect." I don't believe there is a perfect movie (though I stand by my statement that Vader is a perfect villain), so I just want to clarify that I don't think "Inception" is perfect. It's just near-perfect.

Inception - Written and directed by Christopher Nolan, starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Tom Hardy, and Ellen Page - Rated PG-13

Yeah, it's a Vader. What of it?

Inception is easily my most anticipated movie so far this year. It’s not because I loved the previews for it or I read some interviews or I heard the buzz about it. It’s because it’s directed by Christopher Nolan (Memento, The Dark Knight), it has an amazing cast, and it is based on an original script. That last one is almost unheard of in summer blockbuster land these days. I think it’s great that Nolan was able to get a huge amount of money to make a movie that didn’t have a built in audience. But there’s another reason why I like Inception; it’s the best film of the year so far.

I mentioned that the previews are not what garnered my interest in this film. In fact, I tried my best to avoid all information on this film. If I know I want to see a movie, then I don’t want anything ruined by the previews, which tend to give far too much of a film away. I bring this up because I am going to give a brief plot synopsis and I’m going to refer to specific scenes in this review. I’m not going to spoil anything, but if you’re like me, you may want to hold off on reading this review until you’ve seen the film. (Hopefully most of you aren’t like me and you’ll keep reading, though.)

Inception deals with dreams. There is no long introduction talking about the technology that was discovered that allowed people to inhabit others’ dreams or anything, though. The audience is thrown right in the middle of it all and you have to pick up information as you go. The film may completely baffle you in the first twenty minutes. I don’t want to be cliché and call “Inception” mind-bending, but I will say that it is a film that requires you to pay close attention. This film deals with dreams within dreams within dreams within dreams.

Dreams within dreams within dreams may sound complicated or even cliché itself when you think of past uses of the concept. It’s cliché in a horror movie kind of way where a character wakes up three or four times to be scared. It’s complicated in that it could potentially become a complete mess where you have no idea which dream you’re watching at any given time.

Inception doesn’t fall prey to either of these. I never felt cheated by Nolan when an “awake” scene turned into a dream. Nolan uses filmmaking standards in very interesting ways to create the dreams. A character asks another, “Do you remember how we got here?” As the audience, you don’t ask yourself that because it’s expected. In movies, characters suddenly change locations, even though their conversation keeps going on as if it never stopped for them to travel. That’s exactly how dreams work. First you’re here, and then you’re someplace completely different. The fact that there is no concrete signal that a dream is being shown made the movie very compelling to me.

That’s not to say that this film doesn’t feature moments that are completely dream-like and visually astounding. This film has a brain, but it is also just fun to watch. The horizon going vertical, excellent uses of slow motion, maze-like staircases that look like they go on forever but don’t, and, the best, zero gravity. Don’t go in expecting constant craziness in the dreams, though. The crew in the film (I promise I will talk about them specifically soon) is in a subject’s mind, trying to either extract information or insert an idea. To do that, the subject can’t know they’re dreaming (at least not at first), because when they realize it’s a dream they’ll wake up. So the dream world in “Inception” is not a magical land with wonderful creatures; it’s more like reality, but a bit off at times.

The dream within a dream thing never becomes too complicated. If I described how the last forty-five minutes played out, it would probably make your head spin. Thankfully, Christopher Nolan is the one telling the story, and he puts it together in such a way that I never wondered where the film was or what was happening. That is quite the feat, since at one point there are five versions of some characters in play. If you stop and think about it, it might confuse you (as it did me just now when I counted out the versions), but Nolan doesn’t give time to stop. The movie moves at such a great pace that you just go with it and it all, miraculously, makes sense.

Now for the crew. Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is the leader of the group. He has to put together a team to put an idea into a businessman’s head. If he does this, he’ll be able to go home. (I’ll leave why he can’t go home for you to find out when you watch it.) The whole team concept basically makes this film a heist/con movie. Cobb’s second in command is Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt). Ariadne (Ellen Page) is brought in as a new architect for the dreams. Eames (Tom Hardy) is the forger (he can make himself look and sound like other people in the dreams). Yusuf (Dileep Rao) provides the sedatives that allow them to go into deep, deep sleep. And Saito (Ken Watanabe) is the benefactor along for the mission to make sure all goes well. The mark in this con is Robert Fischer (Cillian Murphy), who brings a trusted colleague (Tom Berenger) along in his subconscious. Also roaming the dreams is Mal (Marion Cotillard), Cobb’s wife. And Michael Caine is thrown in for good measure as Cobb’s father, though he has more of a cameo in a couple of “awake” scenes.

Okay, I know that was going overboard in just listing characters and actors, but I felt that everyone deserved mention because it is one of the best casts I’ve ever seen assembled. I’m not saying there are any Oscar-worthy performances here (and there really aren’t), I’m just saying that all of these actors are great and they do a great job. It’s just that this is a summer blockbuster and the cast is so large that no one stands out above the others. It basically turns into who you like the most. In my case, I’m a big fan of DiCaprio these days and he gives yet another strong performance. I’ve also enjoyed most of Gordon-Levitt’s work and he’s great here, too. I even enjoyed Ellen Page, who usually annoys me. But Tom Hardy (who was amazing in Bronson) is by far the coolest. His joking with Gordon-Levitt provided some needed comic relief and he’s very convincing in the action scenes. Also, it’s great to see Tom Berenger in a major release.

I called Tom Hardy cool and that can be applied to the entire film. Hardy may be the coolest, but all of these actors are as cool as they come. They get to wear suits and shoot guns, take down a snowy compound, traverse hallways as gravity changes, etc. It’s just plain cool. For the record, the gravity stuff was my favorite.

I may be glossing over the story and focusing on the action-type elements, but that’s only because I don’t want to ruin anything. There is a compelling storyline in this film and most of the movie isn’t action-packed. The lack of action in the earlier part of the film isn’t a problem, though, because all of the actors work so well together that even if a character seems a bit underdeveloped, you will hardly notice.

I haven’t read any other reviews yet, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be alone in singing this film’s praises. Maybe I am gushing over this movie, but this film is enjoyable and entertaining on every level. One thing I saw on a preview (it was impossible to ignore them this past week) was the quote comparing this film to The Matrix. I love this movie and everything, but please ignore people/critics when they call any movie the next anything. Do not go into this movie expecting a groundbreaking action movie like The Matrix. Yes there are people acting cool and shooting guns and whatnot, but Inception is a completely different movie. And while the film handles a dream world in completely competent ways, it doesn’t feature a new style that is going to change how action movies are shot, which is what happened with The Matrix.

Now I’m just rambling, so I’ll wrap this up (though I think I could go on for at least another thousand words). Inception is cool and I suggest that everyone watch it. There’s compelling drama, great acting and action, a bit of humor, and some absolutely amazing visuals. It’s completely entertaining and I think most people will walk out of the theatre pleased with this one. I certainly did.

Random notes - I wanted to point out a few things I noticed that aren't part of a review at all.

• First off, Cillian Murphy must be wondering what Nolan has against his face. Murphy has been in three Nolan films and in all three he has a bag placed over his head. I just found that amusing.
  

• The music was loud and awesome...that is all.
  

• This film looks great in IMAX.
  

• I loved that the movie didn't treat the viewer like a complete idiot when it comes to locations. I recently watched a film in which Big Ben is visible in the establishing shot, yet there is still a marker that says, "London." In Inception, a character says he is going to Mombasa. next we get an establishing shot of Mombasa, but there is no marker telling us this, because the film already did. And when they are in a more famous city, Nolan leaves it to us to realize where we are. I know it's nitpicky, but the overuse of location markers bothers me.
  

• I like the idea of the "totems" as a way of knowing if you're dreaming or not.
  

• The subject's subconscious was pretty funny. The idea that the subconscious (i.e. all the people in the background of the dream) would get suspicious and even violent was very interesting.
  

• Finally, and this is definitely a SPOILER for both Inception and Shutter Island, what is with DiCaprio playing the same role two times in a row? In both films he has a dead wife and he has issues dealing with his involvement in her death. He even dreams of her, much like he dreams of her in this film, in Shutter Island. I just couldn't ignore how similar the characters were. Nothing against DiCaprio, though. I'm certainly glad he's in both of those films, which, oddly enough, I think I would place at number 1 and 2 for the year so far, Inception being number 1.