A Theology of Django Unchained

Django Unchained (2012). Directed and written by Quentin Tarantino. 165 mins. Rated 18.

I heard someone comment on Inglorious Basterds (2009) that Tarantino had the entire audience laughing at the violence directed towards the Nazis. The irony is that there is a scene where the Nazis are laughing at the violence directed to the Russians in a cinema; thus Tarantino shows that his audience are no better than the Nazis, let alone the Jewish men who cause such violence themselves. In the same way, Calvin Candie (DiCaprio) is at one point sitting on a sofa watching a “mandingo fight” to his great enjoyment, yet at several points the crowd in the cinema delights in the slaughter and dismemberment of various characters. Tarantino has shown yet again that with a little justification (a great cause) the crowd assumes the role of the villain. Schultz’s (Waltz) desire to get into the fighting business is justified by the phrase “It seems like fun”, which could easily be a phrase used to justify going to see Django Unchained.

          The interesting thing about this film is that the higher cause that Django (Foxx) appeals to is not freedom for slaves but the salvation of his wife from the hands of the dragon (biblical imagery for satan, who initially seems to be Candie but is in fact Stephen (Samuel L. Jackson)). There is indeed Christological imagery here, as Christ defeats satan for his Bride, but the twist is that he does so through extreme violence and force. Shultz does attempt to simply buy Django’s wife back, which ultimately fails, but even before this Django’s answer is one of violence. In line with this, the subsequent freedom from slavery is also reminiscent of biblical imagery (Lk 4:8 = Is 61:1).

         Ultimately, however, I believe that this film is another classic case of Tarantino’s justice without mercy (viz. Inglorious Basterds and Kill Bill). Justice is stressed at the cost of everything, including principles. While Schultz refuses to shake the hand of Candie due to principles (commendably paying $12,000 for a slave is not a breach of his principles), Django fulfils his role as turncoat to the point of allowing a man to be torn apart by dogs. This is in contrast to the biblical witness, which instead demands mercy over justice, often to the extreme, as exemplified in the death of Jesus; where those who deserve punishment are forgiven completely. What this means for Django I don’t know, but what is evident in the film is that both white and black men can be slaves to each other (viz. Candie’s lawyer as a slave, Django and Stephen as masters), as well as incredibly evil to each other.

         In Kierkegaardian terms; Django apparently transcends the ethical in a leap of faith, by sacrificing his principles for the higher cause of his wife, when in fact he is simply esthetic in his desire for what is earthly through the following of his love for his wife at the cost of eternity. The real knight of faith would have given up his wife to God in full expectation of her return; a thoroughly unsatisfying answer for a non-Christian.