Angry Uncle Tom

I am a big fan of Quentin Tarantino. Pulp Fiction was a (there are no 10’s) 9.5 for its blatant disregard for the tried and true formula of the first, second, and third act used in Hollywood since…forever. Kill Bill 2 was a 9, and Inglorious Basterds (my personal favorite was as close to a 10 as humanly possible: 9,9?) With that out of the way, I went in to the theater with the best intentions and in a wonderful mood only to come out befuddled and feeling let down. Jamie Fox all but called upon the spirit of Clint Eastwood (wait, is he still alive?), Leonardo DiCaprio played his Southern Dandy to a T, and the Jew Hunter is the greatest actor to spew dialogue since Kevin Spacey hit the scene. Much has been said of the overly spoken N-word throughout the film but I sincerely believe that Tarantino toned it down to what it could have been. This was 1858 you see, so the squeamish or easily offended need not knowingly buy a ticket to such a display and then claim insult. The blood, however, was a tad overdone I will admit. From the first scene of chattel slaves drudging through the cold and mud as they march to their fate, we are treated to blood spurts and splatters fit only for a gory horror film. I actually thought it unique at first; but alas, by film’s end, and especially the final gunfight with Fox, I felt like Stephen King did when he reviewed Kill Bill for Entertainment Weekly and panned its cartoon like amputations via Uma Thurman’s Hattori Hanzo. I am not squeamish myself mind you, but I just felt that it all took away from the weight of the material…which brings me to the soundtrack: Tupac and Rick Ross in 1858? Really?


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