This week Spike Lee dredged up a fair amount of controversy when he announced, in a very public and very Spike Lee way, that he would not be going to see Django Unchained because of the exploitative nature of Quentin Tarantino’s new film. It was the potshot heard round the world, as white boys everywhere got their knicker(bockers) in a twist rushing to defend a supposedly important American hero against the criticism of someone who has long ago fallen out of favor with the gentrifying world of film criticism. Of course, it should strike anyone as strange that so great a cloud of witnesses were ready to dismiss the argument of someone who has consistently produced some of the most thoughtful films on race in America. For Do the Right Thing and Malcolm X alone, Spike Lee deserves a lifetime pass of credibility. Not that we should believe everything he says, but that we should take it seriously and wrestle with it. The biggest response to Lee’s remarks, of course, is that he has no right to judge a film that he has not seen. How can he call a film exploitative when he doesn’t know what that film entails? Sadly, this is just another example of a failure to think. There are at least two good reasons to assume, before ever stepping foot into the theater, that Django Unchained represents an exploitation of the sufferings endured by African Americans under slavery.
For one, there is the issue of form over content. I agree that, without having seen the film, it would be impossible to rate the film’s exact exploitative nature, if such a scientific scale existed. That is to say, it would be hard to discover exactly how exploitative the film is without seeing it, but that does not mean we cannot know that it is, in some degree, exploitative. In a very real sense the actual content of the film matters little, since the first and most significant act of exploitation occurs on the meta level. Simply by writing, producing, and directing a film about slavery which inhabits a genre particularly suited for exploitation (the spaghetti western), Tarantino has posed some very serious problems for himself. Here’s the deal: exploitation does not rest on authorial intent, or the degree to which a work offends those who might be offended. Arguments like “Tarantino is not racist” or “Black people aren’t offended by this – Jamie Foxx and Sam Jackson are in it” are red herrings as to the question of exploitation. The very act of writing about American slavery is so enormous that it must be taken seriously; like the Holocaust, it should be off limits to lighthearted fare. That’s not necessarily to say that a film about American slavery can have no humor in it, but the nature and purpose of that humor and lighthearted nature matters. For example, a burning satire of slavery and race relations could work quite well, in the hands of the right director (and of course has, in a less volatile context, with Mel Brooks’ Blazing Saddles). But even such fare would have to have the burning sense of injustice that motivates all good satire. From all the advanced buzz and understanding, it seems apparent that Tarantino has created a “fun” revenge flick in the context of American slavery. By their very nature these two aspects do not belong together. Movies which grapple with slavery certainly have their place, as do (I suppose) vengeful cinematic romps, but yoking them together raises serious questions.
The second reason Lee’s assertions are valid: we know Tarantino. This is not some indie filmmaker presenting a splashy debut film. At this stage in his career, Tarantino’s positives and negatives are well known enough that no one should be surprised at what they get. For all his reputation as a “shocking” director, Tarantino is really rather predictable. Walking into a Tarantino film you can expect the following: smooth, stylish visuals, twisted humor, outrageous violence, pop culture pastiche. On the negative side you can expect little interest in character development or heart, a shallow exploration of themes, and outrageous violence (yes, it counts twice). Why should anyone give Tarantino the benefit of the doubt on this one? We know his films are exploitative – heck, they are self consciously so, since he apes so fastidiously the quirks of his various beloved drive in genres. He has shown himself again and again to be a very gifted technical director but not someone who creates films worth thinking about and mulling over. He is the very definition of a “fun” director, and a very talented one at that. And there is nothing wrong with that. We need movies that let us escape, that serve no other purpose than to tickle our fancies and delight us for two hours.
BUT. Context matters. One very disturbing trend I see in pop culture today is the belief that anything is justified as long as it is done in a spirit of humor or fun. Nothing’s sacred, so the saying goes. This essentially seems to be Tarantino’s approach to filmmaking. I heard part of an interview that Terri Gross did with him a few weeks ago for “Fresh Air”. It was simultaneously sickening and revealing. She briefly pressed him on the issue of violence in his films. When asked why he included so much violence in his films, he literally answered: “it’s fun”. When asked about his films in the context of violent tragedies like Sandy Hook, he naturally got very defensive and blamed it all on “gun control and mental health issues”. He even went so far as to say that it would be disrespectful to victims of violence to talk about violent movies. And this is someone we consider to be a leading light in American film? From both his output and the things he has said, Tarantino strikes me as similar to a teenage smartass who sits in the back of the class, cracking wise, and expects to get away with anything because he is “clever”. Such cleverness is the mark of his films, but it always comes across as empty chicanery. Just like that jackass whose wisecracks wear thin after a very short time, so too does Tarantino’s schlocksploitation.
It concerns me greatly that ours is a culture which seeks after fun in all things, all situations. In this regard we are not unlike the Romans of the late empire. Before, in the days of the Republic, death was something to be taken seriously. But as wealth grew and the people drifted from their foundations, human death became a thing for sport, a family entertainment, even. This was one of the markers of how soft and decadent Roman society had become. We face the same issues today. The problem with Tarantino’s films is not that they glorify bad things like violence or racism, but that they trivialize them. Violence is a powerful thing in human society, but we seem less and less able to think about it well. Violence as social release, violence as cultural renewal, violence as a means of relation between individuals, as a means of gaining glory: all these things are worth thinking over and mulling, even putting on screen for crowds to meditate on. But violence that is splashed across the multiplex just to show what tricks a director can do, that is violence which is dangerous, both to the individual and society. In the same way, discussions of race are critical for our society. It seems like many white people have been quick to embrace the idea of a “post-racial” society, not out of genuine desire for equality but as an excuse to do and say whatever they want, with no consequences. Thus too the trivialization of Tarantino’s work.
I have a running theory about the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac in the book of Genesis: the terribleness of God’s request can only be justified because it was used to express a truth to Abraham that could not have possibly been conveyed any other way. That is to say, the extremity of the situation is only permissible because it takes an extreme situation to convey an extreme, mysterious message. If the point of Abraham’s ordeal had been only “don’t kill people”, the means would have been well out of proportion to the ends. In the same way, certain events from our past should only be confronted for very specific and, yes, serious reasons. I love comedy as much as the next person, but comedy must learn its place. Something as searing to our national conscience as slavery (the defining act of American history) should not be tossed around for two hours of thrill seeking. Maybe someday Tarantino will grow up a little and produce a film that seriously seeks answers to complex questions. Till then, I’ll be chilling over here with my man Spike.
Well done, Asher. Even when we have not lived up to it so well, the idea of the sacredness of human life has played a significant role in Western civilization. To trivialize the taking of life is degeneration of the worst sort. I know because I have had to work through the horror if it with those who have had to do it in war.
Great article as always. You’re exactly on point with this. Spike Lee is right to say that, and unfortunately (but truthfully), it matters that Tarantino is white. Lee would probably have criticized the film regardless, and it wouldn’t change the truth of his statements, but it has to be said that Tarantino’s race and position in society do nothing but hurt his defense’s credibility.
I’m of the opinion that he should have stopped after Reservoir Dogs.
ARGH, that reminds me of the other most annoying part of the Fresh Air interview, when Tarantino claims that, growing up, African American culture was his culture, since he went to a mostly black school and his mother’s best friend (with whom he spent a lot of time) was African American. FACE. PALM.
Further evidence that Tarantino should be listening to us instead of his own messed up brain.
http://boingboing.net/2013/01/11/tarantino-to-interviewer-i.html
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Asher, buddy! Nice thoughts as usual, and well written, but we disagree about Quentin Tarantino.
That is ok my friend – feel free to be as gloriously, hilariously wrong about Tarantino as you like. (:
I’m not sure how the film is exploitative for taking place in the context of slavery, unless fun revenge films in general are exploitative, since they all take place in the context of some injustice that is motivating the revenge. If that’s the case, then it’s exploitative not because it takes place in the context of slavery per se, but simply because it’s takes place in the context of injustice. So maybe the scale of the injustice of slavery makes it exploitative? I think it’s going to be hard to allow that some fun revenge films are exploitative, but not others. Trying to think of another fun revenge film…
Also, I think Tarantino’s better films at least are worth mulling over, like Pulp Fiction. They’re not just fun. I think Tarantino’s films have a certain sort of dark humor, but being dark, it’s a serious sort of humor. The fact that Tarantino doesn’t say this doesn’t bother me. I think artists are frequently unable to articulate the value of what they’re doing.
Marcus, maybe I’m painting myself into a corner here, but I do think all “fun revenge flicks” contain an element of exploitation, since they take what is a serious, terrible human emotion and play it glibly. The difference, as you rightly point out, is the scale. A personal, “the baddies took my daughter” type revenge flick isn’t THAT exploitative, provided it stays grounded in a localized, fictional incident. Putting one in the context of the systematic degradation, dehumanization, torture, and enslavement of a whole group of people raises that exploitation to a high degree.
And I guess we disagree, but my problem with Tarantino’s dark humor is particularly that it is not serious. He manages to use death and hyperviolence in contexts which produce humor yet circumvent real thought.
Agreed, Marcus. In fact, I would say an artist has basically no real say in the interpretation of their own work, and should largely be ignored. George Romero’s rather poor reading of The Night of the Living Dead, his own film, is a case in point. It doesn’t matter what Tarantino says in the interview; in person, he’s always been the biggest tool in the toolbox, but he’s a brilliant filmmaker. Asher, you’re selling him short.
I’d agree that authorial intent/interpretation doesn’t matter as much as many people think when we talk about something like aesthetic value, but it’s a different matter with determining exploitation which is essentially a moral/economic category. Let’s say Tarantino set out to make a searing epic indicting slavery and inequality in all its forms through portraying the misery of human bondage, yet somehow pulled a Tommy Wiseau and ended up with Django. Does that change our understanding of its exploitation? I think it does. But that’s clearly NOT what he set out to do. Let’s give a generous interpretation and say he was prompted by his muse (and not, say, the desire to separate gullible Millenials from their parent’s hard earned money). Trivializing real, systematic human suffering that actually happened in the service of story and artistic integrity? That’s exploitation.
See my comment to Marcus regarding Tarantino’s filmmaking chops. Still think he is massively overrated, and a prime example of style over substance. And not in an awesome, Speed Racer sort of way.
Asher, from a critical/analytical perspective “authorial intent” doesn’t exist at all. Not that it never did, just that we (including the author) have lost access to it. It just doesn’t bare upon interpretation. I like your disjunction between aesthetic and moral judgments about art to a degree, as it echoes what I wrote in my post about Daniel Tosh’s controversial rape joke: art isn’t subject to moral critique, but something might be de-classified as art if there is no apparent “seriousness” in its execution, which is why porn doesn’t qualify. “Seriousness” doesn’t equate to “heaviness” or a sombre tone, though. Not all movies about slavery have to be Amistad, thank god. You don’t seem to allow space for ironic use of violence, or just how uncomfortable many scenes in Django make us feel (I think purposively) about the relationship between viewer and entertainment.
Back to Spike Lee, how do we know Tarantino is “trivializing” the human suffering of slavery without watching the film? I just don’t think post-modern genre manipulation and the past history of the director are enough, ESPECIALLY the last point, which is just a highly ad hominem version of a genetic fallacy.
Once we see the film, I would argue that it is clear (or at least arguable) that Tarantino isn’t using slavery for mere purposes of entertainment. All we can ever do about film is make arguments about it, so I can’t offer proof, but “substantive” readings of the film are at least possible. I take Django as the sister film to Inglorious Basterds, both of which meditate upon the relationship between filmic story-telling and how the audience digests historical tragedy.
Also, if making money (or trying to) is evidence of artistic bad faith, we can go ahead and dispose of any and all art about tragedy, Spielberg being a particular culprit. I would even say that some of the more emotionally manipulative content in Schindler’s List and the aforementioned Amistad are more liable to accusations of directorial cynicism than what Tarantino produces.
I feel like you have worked yourself into some very extreme positions here. The position that we have “no access” to authorial intent seems blatantly false. Is there a brief, convincing argument you can give in its favor? Art doesn’t exist in an aesthetic bubble; it is subject to historical criticism to the same extent that it is subject to genre, etc. That is to say, not to an extreme amount (I certainly agree that art does and should transcend the intentions of its maker), but you cannot lose that strand entirely.
As to the moral question, I think at the very least you’ve set yourself up with one hell of a Sorites paradox. At what point can we declassify a piece of art? To say that art has no moral component to it is to isolate art and make it dangerous and yet also trivial. I don’t see how you can say that art speaks to the human experience at all if it does so divorced of morality (indeed, by morality I have in mind not a cut and dry set of ethical formulas, but the deep undercurrent questions that bother humanity again and again). I don’t mean this in some Focus on the Family sort of way, but I do think artists have swung too much in the direction of the self-justifying. The best art speaks to us in our humanity, but if we allow that art can have positive moral impact, then we have to allow for the negative as well. I’ve done enough study of the past 200 years of aesthetics to say thanks, no thanks to art as self-justifying. (I want you to know that I tried my absolute best not to sound like a pompous ass in that last sentence; to no avail).
Re: being suspicious of Tarantino based on previous work. It’s not an ad hominem FALLACY at all, just good common sense. If I loan you money 10 times, and you pay me back 0 out of 10, it’s a reasonable assumption to make that you won’t pay me back the 11th time. Not foolproof, of course, but fairly pragmatic. Again, to treat Django as if the rest of Tarantino’s filmmography hadn’t happened is at best silly, at worst irresponsible.
Love love loved your point about Spielberg (whom, you’ll notice, I never mentioned). Sentimentality is absolutely the wrong approach, but it is the opposite extreme of glibness. I actually don’t know if there is an acceptable (literary) way to approach the horrors of slavery, especially on film. I feel like something more abstract might be appropriate. Maybe in film documentary is the only answer? The stuff about money was not meant seriously, of course. Tarantino has never seemed particularly driven by money so much as his own ego. Not that I can know anything about why he makes movies, of course. (:
I feel like some of these conversations are best had in another venue. Preferably with plenty of scotch and tobacco. Feel free to respond to my points here, and then maybe we can continue at another time and a less virtual place.
Agreed.
Wait wait I gotta get in here once more…
I agree Asher that we shouldn’t separate the aesthetic from the moral/ethical. If a work of art is immoral or unjust, then to that extent it is not beautiful. I wouldn’t say that you’re painting yourself into a corner with all fun revenge flicks being exploitative – that doesn’t seem implausible. I would defend Tarantino not by arguing that Django is not exploitative, but by arguing that at least sometimes his films are thought provoking even where they involve dark humor. Take the scene in Pulp Fiction where John Travolta’s character accidentally shoots that kid in the back of the car. It’s funny because they treat the situation as just an inconvenience, they don’t care about the kid himself. But it’s also thought provoking because their attitude should strike the audience as inappropriate. They ought to care more about the kid more than the fact that now they have to deal with the mess. And that raises questions about how the gangster-type values (or doesn’t value) life, how the audience values life (why are we laughing?). So it’s not merely exploiting the trivialization of life. I think this approach goes for some of his other films, although I do think they have a tendency to degenerate into mere entertainment. Django is definitely more on the mere-entertainment side of things. And most people probably approach Pulp Fiction that way too, but the average viewer’s approach to film is irrelevant to the film’s merit.
Also, pholcombe, why is authorial intent completely irrelevant to interpretation? I would need an argument to be convinced. it seems like we’ll have to have an understanding of the social context of a work of art in order to understand it, and that would have a bearing on the artist’s intent. For example, how can we understand Sophocles if we don’t understand 5th century Greek culture? When I said that artists are unable to articulate the value of their art, I didn’t mean to say that their intention is irrelevant. I just don’t think they are always able to explain the value of what they’re doing, including how their intentions are operating.
Also I watched Mulholland Drive for the first time last night. WTFFFFFFFFF
If either of you could help me out here I’d appreciate it.
Nope, that’s the right reaction to have. IMO Lynch’s best work was his TV show, Twin Peaks, which you should check out if you haven’t already. A good amount of WTF, but not too much.
Just don’t watch Blue Velvet, which is pretty terrible and hard to watch. Though it does feature Dennis Hopper yelling one of my favorite movie quotes of all time:
NSFW, obviously, because it’s Dennis Hopper.
I watched the first twenty or thirty minutes of Blue Velvet one time, but I couldn’t go any farther, it was too hokey or something.
One of your complaints about Tarantino is that his work trivializes racism and you suggest a satire of slavery would be better handled by Mel Brooks who directed and co-wrote “Blazing Saddles.” That comedy contains “n***er” 20 times. He’s someone who trivializes Black racism. Do any of his films target Jews with anti-Semitic slurs? How is it he gets to come on board?
Good question. In the case of Brooks, he clearly uses the N word in the context of “Blazing Saddles” in a satirical context. The racism is not trivialized but explored thoughtfully in a humorous context. Consider also that Brooks had Richard Pryor on board helping him write, and specifically ran material by him to see where it fell on the funny vs. offensive spectrum, cutting material that Pryor dubbed not helpful or over the line.
Brooks does not subject Jewish audiences to the jarring slur “k**e.” Even in satires. The movie industry allows filmmakers to clobber Black viewers with racist slurs targeting their group, but it spares white and Jewish viewers from the same. Brooks chose Pryor because he was known for using the n-bomb so it was a foregone conclusion Pryor would okay most of Brooks stuff. Blacks are the only group that defend and justify the right of others to debase our race.
l wear glasses and upon closer inspection I see that what I thought was your shirt, is actually your white skin. With that being the case, what movie were you ever subjected to where Black characters use racially demeaning slurs targeting your white subgroup at least five times? Do they even exist? Man, you don’t begin to have a clue.
I have absolutely no disagreement with your general statement that African Americans have been subjected to a lot of terrible treatment, even within the context of movies, where they have often been depicted as buffoons, lackeys, or just generally unworthy of respect. That history deserves to be talked about and apologized for. And I try to do both.
I’m sorry that you find Blazing Saddles offensive in its language, and perhaps you are right that there is no conceivable context in which that is appropriate. That’s the only charitable reading I can give your statements, because you seem to be completely misreading Brooks’ intent in using the word. It is decidedly NOT given a humorous context within the film and shows up really to show the inhumane treatment of African Americans at the hands of whites. Given the timing, I can’t help but think that Brooks was trying to draw parallels to the decade in which he lived at the time, where whites were still oppressing and yes degrading African Americans (as they still are, of course).
I’m sorry that we disagree on this and I defer to an extent to your judgement. You are right – I AM white, and so I cannot fully understand the effects that word has upon people of color. At the same time, I am someone who tries to thoughtfully tackle these issues and be as sympathetic/empathetic as I can be. Never meant any initial offense, nor any subsequent one. I’d love to continue this discussion, but I feel at this point it might be more beneficial to do so by email. You can drop me a line at theerstwhilephilistine@gmail.com.
All the Best,
Asher
This is really awesome, dude. I usually appreciate your thoughts on film, and this especially seemed spot-on. I admire the conviction present in the article and your comments, which is a lot cooler than any of Tarantino’s technical gimmicks. Comparing him to a teenage jackass was especially striking, but maybe that’s just because it was a little too close to home…
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