Django Unchained

Slave couple Django (Jamie Foxx) and Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) are split up by a spiteful master and sold separately at auction. Django is freed from his new owners by Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz), a German dentist-turned-bounty hunter who needs him to spot his latest quarry. In exchange for partnering up, Schultz promises Django money, his freedom, and the chance to save Broomhilda from her new owner, the suave but sadistic Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio).

An epic Blaxploitation Spaghetti Western set in the Deep South seems like something hypothesized during a drunken party game, but for Quentin Tarantino, it’s par for the course. In many ways, Django Unchained is the ultimate Tarantino film. It combines the director’s love of 70s genre movies (the title pays homage to the classic Italian Western Django, and that film’s star, Franco Nero, cameos here), shocking violence and brutality (to an almost cartoonish level of excess), off-kilter banter (a group of proto-Klansmen engage in an internal bitchfest about whether their hoods are worth wearing due to the obstructed vision), and a distinctive soundtrack (where else would Ennio Morricone rub elbows with Rick Ross and John Legend?). The resulting amalgamation is clearly not for everyone, but for those who are not put off by it, there is a lot to like here.

Despite the ugliness of its subject matter, Django Unchained is beautifully shot. Whether it’s the serenity of a snowy winter, the grandeur of a Southern plantation, or the blood-stained halls of a shot-up mansion, the film leaves a distinct visual impression. That, coupled with the aforementioned soundtrack, helps perpetuate Tarantino’s legacy as a stylistic maestro.

The characters, like the content, are similarly repellant, but the performances, though uneven, feature a few gems. Waltz gives the best turn here. His bounty hunter is jovial, irrepressible, and, ironically, the film’s moral center. Foxx fills the lead role well enough, but he never hits the emotional highs one would expect. His is a perpetually controlled fury that manifests itself solely in the (admittedly, really cool) rapid pull of a trigger. On the other end of the spectrum, DiCaprio shamelessly overacts as Candie: genteel one moment, a raving psychopath the next. His partner-in-exaggeration is none other than Samuel L. Jackson, who looks like just came from filming a rice commercial. As Candie’s head of household, Jackson’s Stephen vacillates between toadying yes-man (his public persona) and maliciously cunning (in private). Then there’s poor Kerry Washington, who is given little to do here save for mutter a few lines in German and look frightened. While some of the cast were clearly just along for the ride, the motley assemblage of names and faces (look for Don Johnson and Jonah Hill, among others) makes this worth watching for curiosity alone.

Much has been said for how Django Unchained approaches the issue of slavery.  Tarantino has taken his share of hits for making such an unorthodox film on the subject, especially one that is often so uncomfortably funny. But just as Inglourious Basterds showed us vis-à-vis the Holocaust, there is a deeper message that lies beyond the director’s audacity. In Django Unchained, the dehumanizing effect of slavery looms large throughout. Whether it’s Django’s numbness to the suffering of the myriad slaves he encounters or Stephen’s years of internalized racism, the evil of the institution is amplified rather than downplayed (as Tarantino’s critics have alleged).

With a nearly three-hour run time and buckets of gore and blood, Django Unchained will test your limits as a viewer. But if you can hang on without getting bucked from the proverbial horse, it’s one hell of a ride.

8.25/10

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey

Years ago, the dwarvish kingdom of Erebor was renowned for its great prosperity. The kingdom accumulated so much gold, in fact, that it attracted the attention of the dragon Smaug, who promptly took it over and exiled all the dwarves. Sixty years later, thirteen dwarves under the command of Thorin (Richard Armitage) join forces with the wizard Gandalf (Ian McKellen) and the hobbit Bilbo Baggins (Martin Henderson) to retake Erebor. Along the way, they will encounter trolls, goblins, the dreaded orcs, and a number of other dangers.

It seems utterly insane to stretch J.R.R. Tolkien’s 300-page novel into an epic three-film trilogy, but director Peter Jackson was never one for restraint. The same formula that won him so much acclaim for the Lord of the Rings trilogy can be found again here. Breathtaking visuals, rousing action, and a spirit of triumph are tempered by loads of characters to keep track of and a somewhat oppressive (nearly three hours) run time.

The extent to which The Hobbit shares common DNA with LOTR is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, the wealth of familiar faces (in addition to McKellen, Ian Holm, Elijah Wood, Hugo Weaving, Cate Blanchett, Christopher Lee, and Andy Serkis all reprise their roles) helps establish continuity and eases in those unfamiliar with the novel. On the other hand, a lengthy scene that introduces us to Gollum feels like a misplaced distraction.

As a self-contained work, The Hobbit features a fine performance from Henderson as the fastidious, self-doubting younger Bilbo. McKellen could play Gandalf in his sleep, but the septuagenarian continues to bring vigor and a commanding presence to the role. On the other hand, Armitage doesn’t look very much like a dwarf, and his Thorin, at times, feels like a second-rate stand-in for Aragorn.

From mass melee battles to death-defying journeys across rocky chasms, the film is not lacking in excitement. The combat is balanced by a good amount of humor, often at the expense of the easily perturbed Bilbo. In spite of this, watching The Hobbit is still an exhaustive experience. The film feels long, and reaching the end and knowing that something resembling closure is still two movies away makes it seem even longer.

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey is a visual marvel with ample talent on both sides of the camera, but watching it is as much a burden as it is a reward.

8/10

Hyperion

With the galaxy on the brink of civil war, a bureaucrat, a soldier, a shaman, a priest, a poet, a scholar, and a detective make a last perilous pilgrimage to the distant planet Hyperion where a mythical deity called The Shrike may hold the answers to all their questions. During the voyage, they take turns sharing their stories and revealing their motivations for undertaking such a dangerous quest.

Dan Simmons’ 1989 Hugo Award-winning novel has both the trappings of stock science fiction and the literary bonafides to easily transcend it. The futuristic setting of Hyperion is home to the requisite robots (both androids and more humanistic “cybrids”), rebels (the mysterious Ousters), empire (the Hegemony of Man), technology upgrades (interstellar “farcasting”) and more. And while the omnipresent jargon can be a bit much, Hyperion can also lay claim to an impressive amount of breadth and depth.

To start, both the narrative and the characters are intricately crafted. The pilgrimage serves as a frame story as each traveler has his or her tale revealed. The backstories, without exception, are rife with personal tragedies (the priest discovers the horrible fate of his mentor, the scholar’s daughter ages backwards and loses her memory, etc.) but are still distinct enough to maintain some elements of surprise. Moreover, each story’s narrative voice is well-suited to the character. The poet’s tale, for instance, is both cultured and decadent while the detective’s basks in Chandleresque noir.

In addition, Simmons has clearly done his homework. The novel is structured like The Canterbury Tales, but it shares a title with a poem by John Keats that tells the story of the fallen Greek Titans (with clear parallels to the book’s plot), and the poet himself turns up reincarnated in a way (it makes sense in context). There are also allusions to modern science (faster-than-light travel is enabled by a “Hawking Drive”), politics (Hyperion’s late king is descended from the House of Windsor), religion (the emigration from Earth is called the hegira as in Islam’s hejira) and more. Reading Hyperion is like examining our cultural legacy through the telescopic lens of the future, a provocatively fascinating experience.

The book’s biggest drawback is the pacing. For as much as the backstories can be engrossing, they all contain portions that are eminently skipable. There is also a lot of build-up to an ending that amounts to the most shamelessly blatant sequel hook I’ve encountered since the first Lord of the Rings movie.

As a self-contained work, Hyperion demands patience but rewards it generously. If you can get past the jargon and make do with a lack of closure, there is a lot that is worth your attention here.

8.25/10

Killing Them Softly

Markie Trattman (Ray Liotta) runs a lucrative illegal poker game that he allegedly robbed several years ago. Ex-con Squirrel (Vincent Curatola) is certain that if the game is robbed again, Markie will take the blame for it. He then recruits his nervous protégé Frankie (Scoot McNairy) and Frankie’s ne’er do well friend Russell (Ben Mendelsohn) to do the deed. In the aftermath, the mob calls in hitman Jackie Cogan (Brad Pitt) to finger the culprits and mete out justice, a task that becomes increasingly frustrating and complicated over time.

Directed and written by Andrew Dominik, Killing Them Softly is a jarringly odd cinematic chimera. The plot comes courtesy of Cogan’s Trade, a 1974 crime novel by the late George V. Higgins, but the setting and thematic inspiration are rooted in the 2008 financial crisis. The result is that 70s cars, 70s fashion, and tough-guy dialogue share the screen with allusions to “recession pricing” and economic speeches from George W. Bush and Barack Obama on nearly every television and radio. Dominik’s message is obvious: the savagery of the criminal economy (illegal poker games and all) is a microcosm of what goes on in the legitimate world, but the stylistic idiosyncrasy with which that message is presented (gunfire one moment, a conversation over drinks the next, and a presidential speech after that) makes it impossible to take seriously.

Fortunately, though Killing Them Softly blunders as a “message movie,” not all hope is lost. For starters, it is perfectly cast. Pitt is convincing as the ruthless, competent, ultra-professional Cogan. He is complemented by James Gandolfini as a washed-up alcoholic colleague and Richard Jenkins as a nameless, put-upon mob bureaucrat. The lack of female characters is perplexing, but it fits with the film’s general audacity.

Another noteworthy point is the film’s constant juggling of moods. Though the plot and setting both scream “high stakes,” Dominik weaves a surprising amount of dark humor into the presentation. Whether its Jenkins’ character admonishing Cogan (the killer he hired) for smoking or Russell trying to corral a half-dozen dogs as part of a failed scheme, there are fitfully amusing moments amid the bloodshed. But this too undermines the film’s efficacy as an economic critique.

Killing Them Softly doesn’t make easy or conventional choices, and while that’s commendable, the end result (including a finale that resolves nothing) is more than a bit disappointing.

7.25/10

Taste of Thai

Located at 1500 Mill Street off Westover Terrace in Greensboro, Taste of Thai is open for lunch and dinner seven days a week. A buffet is offered during lunch hours, and specials rotate regularly.

As previously mentioned, Greensboro offers quite the diverse array of southeastern Asian cuisine. On one end of the spectrum, you have something like the Bangkok Café, a tiny, hole-in-the wall family establishment that offers nothing in the way of presentation but satisfies with relatively cheap authentic cuisine. Taste of Thai is the antithesis of that: the restaurant is inviting and well-appointed, but the flavors can’t compete.

In all fairness, however, “authenticity” isn’t a game that Taste of Thai professes to play. The slightly daunting multi-sectioned menu does include Thai staples (Pad Thai and various curries), but you can also find Chinese-inspired dishes and even an Italian-accented special or two. This Thai fusion approach may alienate purists, but it does offer a wealth of interesting options. They won’t come as strongly seasoned as they would at say Thai Corner Kitchen, but they are prepared with care, and a judicious application of condiments can restore some of the missing heat.

No matter what you opt for, Taste of Thai represents a good value. The lunch buffet is all you can eat for under $10. On a recent visit, a pair of $12 specials (“two way” chicken and a lamb dish with black bean sauce) each came with salads (with addictively delicious peanut dressing) and a sweet potato dessert.

Service at Taste of Thai is professional and courteous but not exactly fleet-footed. If you aren’t pressed for time, you can take in the music (usually calm and soothing but not around the holidays) and admire the art (clichéd Asian but classy nonetheless) on the walls. Otherwise, prepare for a bit of a wait to get your food (unless, of course, you do the buffet).

Taste of Thai is many things: an enticing lunch destination, a safe bet for Thai newbies, a chance to try some creative cooking, an eminently reasonable dinner spot, and so on. The best Thai restaurant in Greensboro, however, it is not.

7.75/10