The Inadvertent William Friedkin PTSD Trilogy: "Rules of Engagement," "The Hunted," and "Bug."

William Friedkin is most famous for his early work, mainly The Exorcist and The French Connection (he also made the excellent Sorcerer around this time), yet I don’t own any of those films. Friedkin is largely forgotten today, even though he’s made some interesting and entertaining films in the last two decades. In fact, the only Friedkin movies I own are films he made after 2000.

I’m not sure if this is intentional, but Friedkin made three movies in a row between 2000 and 2006 that dealt with PTSD with increasing intensity: Rules of Engagement, The Hunted, and Bug. They are three very different films, and none of them were considered all that great upon their release. Bug is the closest, with a 61% on Rotten Tomatoes, but Rules (29%) and Hunted (31%) aren’t even close to being considered critically successful. I happen to love (or at least like) all three. Initially, I was only going to write about The Hunted because it showed up in the same YouTube video that led me to rewatch Constantine. But when I looked at my collection, I saw that I had all three of these movies and the PTSD connection occurred to me. I doubt that Friedkin chose these projects just because of that, but it’s still an interesting way to revisit these three films. First up: Rules of Engagement. (As always, there will be SPOILERS, but I’ll try to keep them minor since these films are lesser known and certainly less popular than Friedkin’s other work.)

Rules of Engagement

Rules of Engagement is about the court martial of Col. Childers (Samuel L. Jackson) who ordered his men to open fire on a crowd of protesters during a peace-keeping mission in Yemen. Childers relies on his lifelong friend, Col. Hayes Hodges (Tommy Lee Jones), to defend him.

It’s a very complex film that deals with loyalty within the military, politics in war, Vietnam, PTSD, and Middle East relations. It’s a film without easy answers. It’s unclear for the first half of the film whether or not Childers was justified, and that ambiguity makes the film work quite well, as we’re left to rely on his own stressful memories of the event and the testimony of others who either couldn’t see the crowd or might be covering up to avoid to a larger military conflict.

Unfortunately, it is revealed via a security tape (major SPOILER) that the crowd did have weapons. But the tape is destroyed by a corrupt National Security Adviser. It doesn’t ruin the movie, but according to the IMDb trivia section (so take this with a grain of salt), Friedkin initially wanted to leave the content of the tape out of the film. Leaving that open would make this movie so much more intriguing and powerful. It’s still a very thought-provoking movie, but I think it would have been received more favorably if things were left up to the audience to decide.

The PTSD elements make make a more lasting impression, especially since they are never directly addressed (at the time of the film, PTSD was not the common topic it is today). So viewing it through today’s world makes it an even deeper film regarding military service and what is justified in combat situations. And it seems like Friedkin recognized this after the fact. He doesn’t mention anything in the DVD interviews (which are mainly promotional fluff), though he may have mentioned something in the commentary (I didn’t listen to it because Friedkin seems like the type to explain what you’re watching rather than elaborate on it). Either way, PTSD isn’t the showcase here, but it is immediately prominent in his next film, The Hunted. I don’t think it’s a stretch that he may have looked back on Rules of Engagement and decided to focus more on this aspect of the film for his next movie.

Even with the misstep with the ambiguity, Rules of Engagement is a movie that stuck with me. I’ve watched it at least five times at this point, and will most likely watch it again. There are complex issues brought up in this film, and it handles them in a smart, convincing manner. That, coupled with strong performances from an amazing cast, make this a movie I am proud to own. Rules of Engagement is a movie that is unfairly lumped in with other military thrillers (as evidenced by my own placement of it within my own collection next to other military thrillers). If you haven’t seen it, or you dismissed it the first time around, give it another chance.

I’ll finish with my random thoughts for this film before moving on to The Hunted.

Random Thoughts

Jones has issues with not being able to live up to his father’s legacy, and he has survivor’s guilt from Vietnam, but the PTSD is there, as well. When he visits Yemen, he has a moment on the rooftop where he reacts as if he’s under fire. On his way home, he has memories of Vietnam in connection to the dead and injured victims in Yemen, and it causes him to drink.

The old man fight, which has shades of They Live, is a bit odd tonally, since it plays for laughs at times, but I liked it.

Jackson’s PTSD is evident when he has a flashback while watching the flag being lowered.

It’s clear that Jackson’s experience in Vietnam shaped the kind of leader he became, for better or worse. Jones’s experience sticks with him, as well. Jackson’s hardened his resolve, while Jones’s softened his. All over a coin flip. Both develop drinking issues, and Jackson has a short temper. And a lot of the film is about whether or not you should severely punish someone who has devoted their life to their country. How do we deal with soldiers when aspects of PTSD lead them to make mistakes on the battlefield?

“Murder, sir?” I don’t know why, but this quote stuck with me. I still either say it or think it when I hear the word “murder.” It’s partly due to Jackson’s delivery, but it’s also because they advertised the hell out of this movie, and that line was in every preview.

“Are these the muthafuckas?” Guy Pearce’s delivery is amusing, but it’s made that much better when Jackson answers with an angry, “Yes!”

Tommy Lee Jones and Samuel L. Jackson are perfectly cast, even if it is a bit strange that they play themselves in the present and in Vietnam.

The embassy sequence is extremely tense. Friedkin does a great job of placing you there in this chaotic situation, adding to the complexity of the film. In hindsight, the wrong call was made, but when you see it in the moment, you can understand how Jackson could make such a decision.

Strange to see Philip Baker Hall playing Jones’s father, since he’s only fifteen years older. Not impossible, of course, but seems unlikely. Jones just seems perpetually seventy years old, so it’s weird to see him with a living father.  

This is one of those odd movies that is completely fictional, yet contains text at the end letting the audience know what happened to certain characters later. This actually made me think it was based on a true story the first time I watched. Watching it now, it seems like test audiences felt that certain things were left too open, and there wasn’t money or something for re-shoots.

The Hunted

This simple, straightforward film is a mix of Rambo (a veteran on the run that cannot function in the normal world) and The Fugitive (Tommy Lee Jones hunts him down).

The Hunted is almost too straightforward and simple. Benicio del Toro plays the troubled veteran, who was basically a hit man for the military. He goes AWOL and kills two hunters (who are most likely there to hunt him), starting a manhunt. Jones was his trainer, which is why he is asked to help catch him. It’s fine and simple enough, but there are so many intriguing elements to the story that get left out.

For one thing, Del Toro is described as having “battle stress,” which is obviously another term for PTSD, but this isn’t explored nearly enough. Instead of elaborating on that with flashbacks or dialogue, it’s left vague, and he’s pretty much treated as a dangerous monster, rather than a sympathetic victim of his history in the military. To be fair, there are a couple moments that humanize him, but overall he’s just a man on the run who needs to be caught.

Jones is similarly affected by his past, even though he didn’t serve in the military. He just trained people how to kill effectively. This is another interesting aspect that only gets touched on. Here’s a man suffering because he knows his training led to a lot of death and violence.

But Friedkin, as he admits in an interview on the DVD, is not interested in exploring any of this. He thinks action thrillers have become too complex and bogged down in plot. He wanted to give the audience a bare bones, violent chase film. In that regard, he succeeds.

The Hunted has lengthy moments without dialogue. And one chase sequence takes place for nearly a half hour (the movie is only an hour and a half long) through multiple locations. If the film is only judged on its effectiveness along those lines, then it should be considered a success. But if we only judge films based on them accomplishing what the filmmakers set out to do, then how can we criticize anything. Also, it’s not like everyone knows Friedkin’s goals when they watched the movie. So when I look at this film through the PTSD angle, it’s a failure. I still enjoy this film for action thriller aspect, but I can’t ignore the missed opportunities. Also, a foot chase is only interesting for so long…

The film does focus more on PTSD, though. It’s mentioned directly, and every scene with del Toro makes it very clear that this man is struggling with his past. It’s just unfortunate that none of the characters even consider helping him. Instead, it’s just used as a plot device to explain why this trained killer needs to be caught. This also confirms that Friedkin is not actually interested in PTSD, at least not as a major focus. He refers to del Toro as “losing it,” which is not how you would refer to a character you are sympathetic to. That doesn’t take away from the fact that this is a movie about PTSD. The director’s intention doesn’t matter when someone can watch the finished product and focus on the PTSD.

Random Thoughts

I kind of hated this movie the first time I watched it, but the spoken word performance by Johnny Cash that bookends the film (and the use of “The Man Comes Around”) for the credits, made me give it another chance. I was going through a major Cash phase at the time. The use of Cash has less of an effect on me now, but I still like the use of it.

According to IMDb trivia (remember, take some salt) Jones made 20 million for these. If that’s true, it’s insane.

Good knife fights. In fact, there’s a moment I love. You know how literally every knife fight in a movie has that moment when one person tries to stab and the other person grabs their hand and they struggle until one overpowers the other? Well, in this film, del Toro simply drops his knife when this happens, catches it with his other hand, and slashes Jones. Awesome.

There’s a father killing a son thing a la Abraham and the Johnny Cash lines, but there’s nothing to it onscreen. The flashbacks are nothing but knife training. Was that supposed to establish a father-son bond? If so, do all of the trainees think of Jones as their dad?

An odd Del Toro performance: he speaks clearly throughout. It’s off-putting.

Strange scene when he visits Irene. They say each other’s name in every sentence. Try doing that in your next conversation. It’s an unnerving way to talk.

After writing all these complaints, I watched the special features and Friedkin explains most of them. I thought it was too short; Friedkin says thrillers are too long and too drawn out and should be simpler. I wanted more father-son stuff established; Friedkin says the letter scene at the end showed that Jones had received the letters but had no answer. Basically he had failed as a father to Del Toro, which is why he had to kill him. I can see all this, but I think it could have been made a bit more clear in the film. You wouldn’t need to add that much more to the run time for it to work.

Bug

Ashley Judd plays Agnes, a waitress down on her luck living in a seedy motel. She is introduced to Peter, a drifter that she has an immediate connection to. After moving in with her, they become convinced that the motel room is infested with bugs.

This is definitely the strangest film of the trilogy, and damn near the strangest of Friedkin’s career (I think Killer Joe is weirder, though both films are based on Tracy Letts plays). I’m not sure that there were going for a dark comedy vibe, but I find this movie funny at times, mainly because of how quickly the psychosis both characters share ramps up.

From the PTSD angle, this movie opened my eyes a bit. I was only focusing on military-related PTSD, but PTSD can affect anyone. Peter does claim to have military service, and he also claims they did experiments on him. So it’s easy to say that’s PTSD from military experience. But the problem is that he is shown to be very unreliable. It’s possible he’s suffering from a mental illness and was never even in the military. This made me question including this movie, until I considered Agnes. She lost a child (who was kidnapped while she was distracted at a grocery store), and her life has been terrible ever since. She also has an abusive ex (Harry Connick, Jr.). So it’s fair to say she’s suffering from PTSD, and this is what makes her so susceptible to Peter’s delusions.

Once again, this is not directly stated, and the focus of the film is on the delusions of the main characters. Perhaps this can be the theme that ties all of these films together: PTSD exists and leads to troubling behavior, but there’s not much that can be done about it; you either deal with it, or it consumes you. That’s a depressing way to look at it, but since these films came out before PTSD was focused on, it’s a legitimate statement about the disorder. Back to Bug, specifically.

I love this movie for the performances. Ashley Judd is great in a refreshingly complex role. But Michael Shannon steals the show. I had known a little of his work before, but this made him stand out to me. He always looks a little unhinged in general, but he’s set loose in this film. His reveal after the room has been covered in foil and it lit by bug zappers, is equal parts horrifying and hilarious. Once again, maybe I’m the one who’s messed up, but I always laugh at that moment.

From a directing standpoint, Friedkin does a great job at creating paranoia. The stuff inside the motel is already there from the source material. But Friedkin is able to use exterior shots that seem to be closing in on the motel room, as if there really is some conspiracy happening. It adds another layer of “what’s real?” to the film. And as far as that goes, it’s left up to the audience what’s real and what’s not, for the most part. That ambiguity allows the film to transcend the other movies in this trilogy, making it the most interesting of the three.

Sure, Bug is another Friedkin film that focuses on the effect of PTSD rather than the cause or treatment, but that doesn’t make it any less compelling or powerful. And the style of the film shows that Friedkin, even late in his career, is capable of growing as a filmmaker.

Random Thought

Ashley Judd working through the conspiracy with Shannon is a standout scene. The “I am the super mother bug!” line is a bit much, but her crazed thought process coupled with Shannon’s manic coaching, is great.

Last Thought on the Trilogy

There seems to be a pattern to the handling of PTSD in these films. In Rules, there are plenty of scenes establishing what has happened to the characters, but the PTSD is minor. In The Hunted, there is only the opening scene to establish what happened, but the PTSD is major. In Bug, we get almost no info (that we can trust, anyway), and the PTSD has turned Shannon and Judd completely insane. Even though Friedkin probably did not choose these films based on the PTSD elements, he still created a connected trilogy that is possible to analyze on a PTSD level while also working as standalone films about completely different issues. They also work as a good reason to own films, even if they're not my favorites. I was able to revisit these films and look at them in a completely different way than before. I would not have done that if I had to pay to stream one of them (not to mention that I used the DVD extras for the article). Instead, I was going to look at just one film and realized I could look at two others that I own. My collection mainly collects dust, but situations like this make it worth it to keep it.

Childhood Memories of the "Die Hard" Trilogy

SPOILERS throughout for the Die Hard series, mostly the first three movies.

 

The latest Die Hard wasn’t so bad that it killed the series, but it was enough to make me revisit the first three films and truly appreciate them.  I grew up with Die Hard and I believe that the first film set the standard for what a good action movie can be.  I continued to grow up with Die Hard 2 and realized what a sequel should not be.  And I watched Die Hard: With a Vengeance and realized that a series can change…and still be good. 

 

But back to the most recent two films first.  If you want to know what I thought was wrong with A Good Day to Die Hard, just click here.  As for the fourth installment, Live Free or Die Hard, I really enjoyed that film, and still hold it in higher regard than the second film.  I’m leaving it out of this because it came out just a few years ago and I had already established my taste in movies at that point.  For the record, I acknowledge how insane that film is, and I know some of the action goes against what makes a Die Hard film, but it was fun enough to forgive the change to the series.  Now on to the real Die Hard films.

 

Die Hard

I was allowed, as a child, to watch movies like Die Hard.  The first film came out when I was four years old, so I didn’t see it in the theatre or anything, but I do remember watching it on VHS very early on.  Not to get into a whole parents/FCC thing, but violent films (within reason) were not prohibited in my home.  But if any nudity showed up, then I was made to cover my eyes lest my fragile boyish mind be warped.  I blame the Puritans…  Anyway, I was allowed to watch the movie and I loved it…and I’m not messed up, at least, not because of that film.

 

Bruce Willis made that film work.  He introduced this everyman hero that was believable even though he was engaged in ridiculous action set pieces.  I know the latest movies have turned the craziness up well past 11, but let’s face it: the original Die Hard is no documentary.  Willis personified a man out of place going through a very bad day to perfection.  To this day I can’t think of an actor who can yell angrily quite like Willis.  When he’s yelling at the cops to pay attention to him or cussing out a bad guy as he kills him, I can’t help but smile.  (Okay, maybe these movies did mess me up a little…)

 

As a child, I just liked the film for the great action, the humor, and the more original elements.  Moments like McClane pulling shards of glass out of his feet.  Or the sight of a dead thug with “Now I have a machine gun ho ho ho” written on his shirt in blood.  (I nearly ordered a shirt that said that a while back before I thought better of it.)  And you have one of the all time great villains in Hans Gruber, who was really only great because of Alan Rickman’s awesome performance. 

 

Die Hard was just a fun movie for me for years.  Then I went to college.  I had a class called “After Vietnam” that dealt with politics and the changing culture of America from the end of the war to the late 90s.  I can’t remember exactly why, but watching Die Hard was part of an assignment.  It was something about the end of the 80s, the fear of Japan taking over, gender roles, etc.  It really opened my eyes, but sometimes I wish I could get them shut again.  I can still enjoy the film for what it is, but now when I watch it I can’t help but think about what statements the film is making or what McClane represents.  It’s nice to have an added layer to the film, though.

 

Die Hard 2

I’ll be honest; I have no distinct memory of watching Die Hard 2 for the first time.  I remember watching it later on DVD and hating it, but I don’t know what my initial response to this film was.  I guess the fact that I forgot about it says enough.  Revisiting it lately, I stand by my disdain for this film.  I have decided, however, that the latest Die Hard is much worse than this. 

 

I suppose I forgot about this one because it’s such a carbon copy of the first film.  You could just see the meeting that took place for this one:

 

“We need to make another Die Hard. Fast.  Any ideas?”

 

“How about Die Hard in an airport?”

 

“Brilliant!  Now hire some hack director.”

 

I know, I know.  The sequel is actually based on a novel and it was altered to be a Die Hard movie.  Fine, but they must have really altered that novel because this is so similar to the first movie that it’s boring.  Watching it again, I was just baffled by some of the film’s oddities.  Why is the bad guy doing naked aerobics at the beginning?  Why did McClane think he could just leave his car in front of the airport to pick up his wife?  (This isn’t Airplane!)  And why do all the Washington, D.C. police officers seem to be from New York? 

 

This film just had the same problem so many sequels have: new location, same story.  It even seemed to try to continue this “end of the 80s” theme that the first film had since a cocaine drug lord was the villain and the war on drugs was mentioned.  Honestly, the film was only interesting to me because of how different things were back then.  McClane smokes inside the airport.  There’s a shootout inside the airport and it’s pretty much just brushed aside.  McClane has a beeper.  Stuff like that. 

 

Overall, not as bad as I remember, but Die Hard 2 is still a boring sequel that attempted nothing new.

 

Die Hard: With a Vengeance

Die Hard went on hiatus for a few years and returned when I was eleven years old with Die Hard: With a Vengeance.  Actually, I’m just going to refer to it as Die Hard 3.  Let’s face it, fans and non-fans alike wish this series never went down the path of non-numbered sequels.  This film brought me back into the fold.  Watching it again recently, I still consider this the second best of the series.  This film stuck out to me back when it first came out not just because it was a funny action film, but because it dealt with social issues in an upfront way that actually made my eleven-year-old self think a bit. 

 

The film contains this subplot about racism, actually reverse racism, that I had not seen before.  That said, if I was to watch this for the first time today, I’d probably be groaning at the heavy-handedness of it all.  For example, Samuel L. Jackson’s character, Zeus, asks his nephews, “Who do we not want to help us?”  They respond in unison, “White people!”  Zeus laughs and says, “That’s right!”  I’m not saying that his character can’t think like that, it just seems like there could have been a more subtle way of conveying that character trait.  I suppose the choice to make McClane wear a sign proclaiming “I hate n*****s” in Harlem wasn’t subtle, either.

 

The film handles the racism in a realistic way.  In many ways, this was a post-racial film, even though a post-racial world is pretty far away.  Instead of McClane and company treading lightly with Zeus, they roll their eyes and dismiss most of his claims of racism.  At one point, McClane finally breaks and calls Zeus a racist.  That was certainly the first time I had seen a white man call a black man a racist, in film or in life in general.  Now, whether or not any of this is a proper way to address race relations is up for debate.  The point is that it made me think about real issues at a young age.  Can’t fault a movie for that.

 

The race stuff has led some viewers to complain that Zeus is an annoying character.  I can see that, but I loved the dynamic of Willis and Zeus.  Their insults and back and forth just seemed natural.  Yeah, it’s pretty much Sam Jackson yelling for two hours, but I like it when Jackson yells at people.  And Bruce Willis as a hungover McClane reacts perfectly to it all.

 

This film works mainly because they changed the formula, which is something that has irked some fans ever since.  This is the movie that turned Die Hard from a “wrong guy in the wrong place” series to a “kill all the bad guys” series.  I agree that the first scenario is the better one, but I want to see more adventures of John McClane.  To do that, he needed to become a bit more than an unlucky guy.  To be fair, he’s still thrust into these events against his will.  It just seems like he’s a little more invincible this time around and he has begun to treat these outlandish events as just another day on the job. 

 

Die Hard 3 marked the beginning of McClane’s transformation into the kill-crazy sociopath he becomes in Die Hard 5.  Let’s look at this realistically (ha!) for a moment.  What else could this character turn into?  He either accepts that he is the unluckiest guy on the planet and sinks into a deep depression, or he embraces the hero that the world has turned him into, going so far as to actively search for bad situations he can insert himself into.  (Disclaimer: This does not mean that I am backing down from my Die Hard 5 criticism.  I still dislike that movie very much.)

 

The videogame

The completion of the trilogy was culminated with a Playstation game called, appropriately, Die Hard Trilogy.  I bring it up because it’s definitely part of my childhood and I have to comment on the videogames based on all three of these films.  It was one of those games that I remembered loving, but when I replayed this game a few years ago, I realized that it had not aged as well as the movies.  I will say that it was ridiculously difficult (or I just sucked at it), and I remember gaining most of my enjoyment by running down pedestrians in the Die Hard 3 section just so I could see the blood wiped off the windshield followed by McClane yelling, “Sorry!”  Random, I know, but it stuck with me.  Back to the films.

 

Final thoughts

The journey of John McClane throughout the Die Hard trilogy was a very important part of establishing my film knowledge.   It showed me that a great action movie has to be slightly plausible, well acted, quite violent, and fun.  It showed that a character needs to change or things can get pretty boring.  And it showed me that an action series can address actual issues. 

 

John McClane, for better or worse, is a character from my childhood.  Because of two of those first three movies, he’s a character that will never grow too old to enjoy.  The new films may never be able to create that experience I had as a child, but what childhood favorites entirely survive into adulthood?  I’ll always have Die Hard and Die Hard 3.  No matter how much I change, I know I can always go back to those films and be a kid again.  And isn’t that the feeling all action movies are trying to evoke?

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.