Inglorious Contempt: Why hasn't Quentin Tarantino won the Best Director Oscar?

Benjamin Lewis launches a passionate defence of Quentin Tarantino’s brilliance and explains why he thinks that it doesn’t matter that the writer/director still hasn’t won the Best Director award at the Oscars…

Image Credit: BBC

If I were to ask you to name me one director off the top of your head from the last five or ten years, who springs to mind? Maybe it’s Steven Spielberg (Jurassic Park), Peter Jackson (The Hobbit) or James Cameron (Titanic)? What about Quentin Tarantino? An enigmatic and divisive, yet brilliant auteur. But despite an array of nominations and awards from many festivals, there is one glaring absence from his collection, which has meant that, in an official sense, he has been unable to join the upper echelons of directors.

I am indeed talking about the Best Director award at the Oscars (an award that all of the aforementioned directors have won).

Tarantino has twice been nominated for Best Director, in 1995 for Pulp Fiction and in 2010 for Inglorious Basterds. However, both times he lost, to Forrest Gump in 1995 and The Hurt Locker in 2010. On both occasions, Tarantino should have won.

I will embrace my position next to Tarantino on the Academy’s blacklist for saying this, but it is a fact. This is not to detract from the quality of either film, but especially in the case of 1995, Pulp Fiction was effectively the only choice; heavily stylised, it has numerous references to pop culture, a non-linear structure and memorable dialogue. Not only did this set the foundations for Tarantino’s own later movies but it would significantly impact other films, too. As Moviemaker Magazine later wrote, it was, “Nothing less than a cultural phenomenon”. This is a declaration that you would find hard to apply to Forrest Gump, despite its repeated references to cultural crazes.

So why then have the Academy not deemed Tarantino worthy of Best Director over the years? If we look at his four most critically successful movies according to Rotten Tomatoes and overlook Reservoir Dogs due to it being his directorial debut, the other three were all nominated for Best Picture and/or Best Original Screenplay (Pulp Fiction, Inglorious Basterds and Django Unchained) and two for Best Director (Pulp Fiction and Inglorious Basterds). Of these, the only two awards Tarantino won were for Best Original Screenplay for Pulp Fiction and Django Unchained. Why is this?

The unfortunate fact is that the Academy is a tight-knit group, who are incredibly political and hostile to outside threats posed to the established status-quo of Hollywood by unorthodox people outside the clique producing unconventional films. According to a recent demographic investigation by the LA Times, the collective is 94% white, with a median age of 62, and 77% male.

If we bear this in mind, the failure of many non-conformist, unconventional and extreme films in the eyes of Academy to win after their nominations makes perfect sense. This is seen clearly with Tarantino, whose handling and choice of extreme violence, an abundance of aesthetic blood and sensitive subject matters, so intrinsic to his style, are also responsible for the catch-22 situation he finds himself in.

Perhaps a brief comparison of Pulp Fiction and Forrest Gump is in order. Forrest Gump has a formulaic and linear plot, has a less gritty and overt portrayal of violence, is less stylistic and also less relevant to the time in which it was made. Pulp Fiction is the complete opposite to this and other movies, which cater for the tastes of the Academy. This is most evidently seen with the boring, patriotic, already forgotten Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – a film rightly rated poorly and yet nominated for Best Picture due to its subject matter and creation with the Oscars in mind.

Ultimately, it is my belief that it is Tarantino’s lack of Best Director confirmation that is not only testament to his directorial brilliance, but to his moral worth, too. It is the very unconventional characteristics of his style that are so frowned upon by the Academy – disdain of cinematic convention and aestheticization of violence – that have earned him so much popular and critical acclaim and success. In refusing to change his cinematic style or beliefs in order to be judged more deserving by his colleagues and contemporaries at festivals, he only further cements his standing as an inspirational director.

Benjamin Lewis

Agree or disagree with Ben? Why not join the debate about Forrest Gump, Tarantino and the worth of the Oscars in the comments section?

Cinema unchained: should violent films be censored?

William Cafferky explains why he believes that the censorship of violent films is not the solution.

In the wake of his new release, Django Unchained, director Quentin Tarantino hit the headlines after refusing to respond to a question from Channel 4 news anchor Krishnan Guru-Murthy regarding the effect of violent movies on the human psyche. Having been to the opening night of the film, it’s not hard to see why it has raised a few eyebrows. Its depiction of the brutality shown towards slaves, and the subsequent backlash certainly accounts for the film’s certificate – 18. However, it is equally obvious to see why the question was met with such cold distain by Tarantino. He’s frequently been quizzed on the issue before, especially surrounding the slash-fest classics that are the Kill Bill films. He highlights a separation between cinema and the real world. We go to the pictures, in many cases, to escape reality, to allow ourselves to be immersed in unfamiliar worlds, characters and cultures. It is almost impossible to ascertain the affect this experience is going to have; it’s too subjective and case-specific.

All photo credits to Gideon Tsang.

Furthermore, if a film is found to have influenced a violent act, it is almost impossible to propose a sensible solution. In the short-run, you could ban the film, but from then we begin to blur the lines of free-speech. Especially in the case of Django Unchained which, whilst considerably brutal at times, is not the most violent film I’ve seen, by some way. If we were to ban Django, there would be little argument against banning all films either more violent, or equally so. And why should we stop there? Why not censor music whose tone is angry or even violent in nature, or art work, which portrays acts of violence or war? Books too, arguably the most influential art form to date, shouldn’t we shield people’s eyes from the ‘horrors’ of potentially dangerous opinion? Now clearly I exaggerate, but there’s no denying that the censorship of film is a slippery slope. Equally the aim is somewhat futile. By attempting to eradicate seemingly unprovoked acts of violence we are essentially attempting to avoid something which has been at the heart of human behaviour and society for some time. Throughout history we have seen people act in an apparently unpredictable and unprovoked way.

It has seemingly always been the desire of people, and notably news corporations, to point the finger. It seems this week’s victim has been the film industry. Tarantino’s film was released in the aftermath of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in America – a clear example of a senseless act of violence without clear reason or explanation. Unsurprisingly, the killings left people horrified and scared. The fear ultimately arises because we can’t comprehend why this would ever happen. Whilst no one has gone so far as to point to cinema as the key influence, Krishnan Guru-Murthy’s question highlights society’s need to explain the unexplainable. If you find the cause of a problem, then you can go about fixing it; but in truth there is no single cause. Whilst loose gun control laws and the alleged poor quality of mental healthcare in the US may increase the frequency of events like Sandy Hook, to eradicate them entirely is impossible. Art may shock, offend, scare or even corrupt, but that is the price we pay as in return it is equally capable of delighting, inspiring and fulfilling us to be better people. Cinema is a beautiful and powerful art form, one which we would be foolish to sacrifice in an attempt to prevent unpredictable and anomalous human behaviour.

Awards Season: Django Unchained, a history steeped in blood

Quentin Tarantino’s latest blockbuster hit Django Unchained tracks the story of one slave turned bountyhunter as he searches for his wife and seeks revenge for the injustices that were brought upon them. The film may have been a cinematic success, with five Academy Award nominations and counting, but its plot comes from darker and more sinister sources. Olivia Johnson looks at the literary heritage of Django Unchained and the tradition of slave narratives that have influenced its style…

Poster for Tarantino’s “Django Unchained”

The cinematic power in Tarantino’s Django Unchained comes from its realistic and savage depiction of slavery in 19^th century America. Brutality, powerlessness, even self-racism – themes which pervade the film – are so moving and believable to audiences because they stem from authentic sources. Such difficulties are highlighted in the narratives of the slaves. Anyone moved by the film should also take the time to read some of the literature contemporary to the slave movement. The biographical slave narratives are the true testaments to a bloody and horrific culture and convey the raw pain of servitude.

Django’s rise from oppression is the crux of the film. At the beginning of the film, he is physically unchained by a man, Dr. King Schultz, who Django soon joins as his fellow bounty hunter. Yet, more appealing is Django’s retribution, which comes at the climax of the film. One man against several, he successfully defends himself using logic and skill in marksmanship, until he is forced to stop by threats made against his wife. At the very end, he once again relies on intelligence to revenge the death of his mentor and escape a free man.

The underlying theme, which is so attractive to audiences, is that physical strength and prowess in fighting is the ultimate tool to beating oppression. In many ways this was true; often, brute strength was the only means to power in a savage world. In the narrative of Frederick Douglass, the man is also forced to undergo a similar feat, beating his master in physical combat when he attempted to assault him. Such basic, savage acts draw the admiration of the reader because it is drenched in imagery of good versus bad. It is once again David against Goliath – though both may be matched in strength, prejudice against Douglass, as a slave, weighs him down considerably. When Douglass wins, the victory is as poignant and powerful to the readers as it must have been to the man himself.

The tragic and ironic depiction of self-racism is another powerful element in the film. Samuel L. Jackson’s portrayal of Stephen, the loyal house slave to plantation owner Calvin J. Candie reflects another, far more disturbing motif. Stephen is a visual manifestation of an “Uncle Tom”, an epithet which has come to depict a person who is excessively subservient to figures of authority, even to the extent that they become an active participant in the oppression of their own group. In the film, Stephen as an “Uncle Tom” serves his master to the detriment of Django and the household slaves; he condemns the slave Broomhilda’s attempts to escape, encourages her horrific punishment and is key in Django’s capture. The “Uncle Tom” stereotype came from spin-off works from Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Yet, ironically, the original character of Uncle Tom is very different.

Harriet Beecher Stowe: “Uncle Tom’s Cabin”

 

In Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the titular character is in fact show to be a martyr, who died by refusing to reveal the whereabouts of two women who escaped from slavery; an ironic reversal from the film’s depiction. Like the film, the book also depicts the savagery of slavery – the slaves are cruelly beaten, stripped of almost any identity and even forced to turn on each other. Yet, while Django Unchained conveys scenes of violence against, and between slaves, the protagonist is liberated from oppression, acting as his own agent for most of the film. The book contains the realistic horror of lives confined within claustrophobic quarters. However, the book’s conclusion does satisfy a modern audience to a certain extent. Tom is killed, life goes on, and the readers are filled with a grim acknowledgement of the transience of life in a world where the death of a slave is a common, justifiable occurrence. However, with the journey of two of the characters, Cassy and Emmeline, into Canada, the reader is left with a certain amount of hope and the certainty that Tom’s sacrifice was not in vain.

It is essential that each of us remember the horrors of slavery, which happened not too long ago, so that we do not repeat them. In the same sense, it is important to remember and mourn for a series of lost generations, as well as to acknowledge, even admire, the attempts by individuals like Frederick Douglass to overcome oppression. However, in terms of enjoyment, it has to be said that Django Unchained is far more satisfying as a form of entertainment than many of the slave narratives because it provides us with something they cannot; a cathartic, albeit unrealistic, ending. Tarantino forces us to uncover and remember the brutal past, yet with the victory of the protagonist at the end of the film, exorcises those shadows.

To see what Exeposé Online Screen made of Django Unchained, follow this link:

By Olivia Johnson – Exeposé Online Books Editor
Ed. by Georgina Holland – Exeposé Online Books Editor

The Xmedia Screen Show – Episode 2

The Xmedia Screen Show returned for its second episode last Thursday on Xpression FM. Just to keep listeners on their toes, Episode 2 was a snappy, thirty minute special, rather than the usual hour, easy to digest in just a handful of greedy gulps. Technical difficulties may have enforced this change but the team soldiered on, and you can listen to the show via the link to Mixcloud below.

 

Image courtesy of The Telegraph

This time round things kicked off with a discussion of HMV and its demise. Is it a shop worth saving, especially for fans of film and TV? Will we miss it? What can be done to combat the rise of Amazon and the insurgence of the internet in general into high street profits? Then the team moved on to discuss the trend of sexualisation  on screen, a topical issue given the recent headlines about events on campus. Do filmmakers have a duty to ensure that sex has a purpose in the stories they tell?

 

Quentin Tarantino’s movies, which often contain scenes of graphic violence, also go hand in hand with controversy. The team review his latest film, Django Unchained, in considerable detail. The show ends with a new quiz feature – Owen v Louis. Who will win when these two mighty Exeposé Screen editors go head to head? Who will have to raise their game next time out?

 

Join us between 5 and 6 every Thursday on Xpression FM! There will be ever greater opportunities to get involved with debates and discussions.

 

Xmedia Screen Show Episode 2 24/01/2013 by Liam Trim on Mixcloud

Review: Django Unchained

Jess O’Kane, Senior Screen Reporter reviews the hotly anticipated Django Unchained, the latest Tarantino feature to attract controversy for its explosive treatment of history.

A disconcerting fact has come to my attention: it is now impossible to talk about a Tarantino film without referring to the man himself. He has, it seems, become a kind of hipster Stephen Fry, only more closely resembling a potato.

Image Credit: Columbia Pictures

Such is the mythology of this man that he lends his films a kind of aura; an expectation of madness and greatness that few directors working today can command.

It isn’t surprising, then that the opening moments of Django draw upon a recognisable iconography; wide red credits cut straight out of a 70s slasher roll, while a rousing corrido sings of the trials of our hero.

But of course, this never was just a Tarantino film; directly inspired by the violent spaghetti westerns of Sergio Corbucci, it combines the horrifically cool anti-heroes we’ve come to know and love with a surprisingly traditional aesthetic.

That said, the film still very much carries the mark of its director, with a predictable lust for violence that would make the bravest Southern Belle falter. Tarantino’s style suits the period like a glove; an era of such moral complexity lends itself well to the conflicted heroes he creates in Django (Jamie Foxx) and Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz).

Image credit: The Guardian

The central premise of a slave recruited by a white bounty hunter to viciously murder plantation owners for money is satisfying in a laden white guilt sort of way. And yet at times there are touches of insincerity in its approach, particularly in the frustratingly two-dimensional character of Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio), which left me cold.

Is Tarantino moralising? Is he desecrating? Is he making up for a disgusting segment of American history? What we are meant to believe, if anything, is never clear.

What keeps it afloat is the quality of its central performances, which buoy an often convoluted plot. We’ve come to expect nothing but brilliance from Waltz since Inglourious Basterds, and this second partnership is no different.

Here, too, he is freakishly elegant, happily blowing heads off here and there whilst posing as a cheerful dentist. Waltz has a preternatural capacity for playing reasonable men who commit frightening acts with great sophistication and intelligence, and he makes the perfect partner to Django’s own confliction.

Image credit: Rotten Tomatoes

Foxx shines as the lead, lending Django a vulnerability and passion that forms a coherent emotional centre in amongst all the blood and boot spurs. Still, he’s an effortlessly cool anti-hero whose conviction is strong enough to allow for the 3-hour running time.

Oh yes, I did say 3 hours. But then this is a film that is both epic in heritage and ambition; as much a warped expression of love from a Western fan to the past as it is a mad, bad Tarantino classic.

What it relies on – and what it eventually delivers – is the impulse to trust in the motivations of its characters. In particular, the storyline revolving around the capture of Django’s wife, Broomhilda (Kerry Washington), is frequently nerve-shredding and eventually satisfying, even despite Broomhilda’s vastly underdeveloped character.

Image credit: Hollywood Reporter

But the biggest surprise comes in the form of Samuel L. Jackson, who plays Stephen, an Uncle Ben lookalike and lifelong servant of Candie. Jackson’s hobbling, wild-eyed form is at once threatening and vulnerable, and his complex relationship with his master shows Tarantino at his most thoughtful.

Indeed, it’s obvious that a lot of thought is at work here; there was never a moment that seemed unjustified or misplaced. Nor, too, did the treatment of the period seem distasteful or unrealistic, despite its eccentricities.

There will still be some people who question Django – its violence, its treatment of slavery and its motives, and it’s true that it is at times a little incomprehensible.

But you know what? I really didn’t care. After all, this is Tarantino, and when faced with his bizarre brilliance we can only sit back like wearisome parents and watch him raise hell.

My Rating: 4.5/5 stars 

Rotten Tomatoes Critics’ Average: 4/5

Jess O’Kane