DJANGO UNCHAINED REVIEW
United States, on the eve of the Civil War. The bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz of German origins, in a cart dentist, is looking for the Brittle brothers, to deliver them to the authorities rather dead than alive and collect the reward. To find them, he hires a slave named Django, promising freedom to mission completed. Between the two men the result is a human and professional association that leads them through the plantations of America and racist horrors in search of criminals on the run and the wife of Django, Broomhilda, sold as a slave to some landowner slave trader.
Tarantino is holding a genre story that is also a piece of American history: the western is the ideal choice, but it is obviously a western that does not fall under the big sky of tradition.
Here, more than ever, the pleasure of cinema, to do it as well as to admire him, is in every fold of the text in the expansive recitation of the characters, with highlights of Samuel L. Jackson and Di Caprio, in the power of dialogue , the use of music and looks, who has resurrected the Italian cinema of the spaghetti western and resulted in new splendor in the game.
Although the film does not bring with it nothing of the wonderful Corbucci of Django, if not a message of love, enclosed in the title and refrain of Luis Bacalov, and a hint of horror, which rhymes with racism, Django Unchained work is impeccable fully resolved, which proceeds as a long treadmill from a starting-grotesque cynical, almost to the Coen brothers, to a speech more deeply cruel and a total redemption, given the character of Christoph Waltz, who puts to rest any sterile controversy.
The pleasure of the text is so real, verifiable, undeniable result of satisfaction of the expectations that we had placed in it. Nevertheless, Barthes would say, there are texts of pleasure and enjoyment of texts, which exceed the norm, causing a shock, a state of disorientation that is indescribable.