The dual fantasies of Django Unchained

Quentin Tarantino’s films fall into a genre I call fantasy realism, by analogy to magic realism, as the central conceit of his filmography is to present fantastical events so convincingly that they feal natural and real. Consider Pulp Fiction: no single event in the film is blatantly impossible or unrealistic¹which distinguishes “fantasy realism” from “magic realism” but as a whole the sequence of events is patently ridiculous, as hinted by the title itself. By taking a silly plot as might be dreamt up by a middle-schooler, but presenting it in earnest, Tarantino’s films have the effect of bringing a fantasy story to life.

From this perspective we look at his 2012 film, Django Unchained. Consider the scene where the Brittle brothers are killed, which is filled with details in Tarantino’s distinctive style.²Though not the flashback, which is done in a much more realist style to match its more serious tone. Django’s bright blue suit, his spyglass, the slaver’s eye patch, the slaves playing on idyllic swingsets (which is surely symbolic for… something?)… and why would there be a random full-length mirror outside by a tree? Each thing feels like it belongs (except Django’s suit) until examined in specific.

However my interest is not in the scene-by-scene details but the overall shape of the story, which I claim is a naive or innocent interpretation of how to fight slavery, as might be imagined by a middle-schooler. After all, an age-appropriate first introduction to the history of American slavery will necessarily omit its full horrors and the extent of its grip on its victims. It is natural then for the history student to imagine “well if I lived there at that time, I would just…” and conjure up some alternate history if only they had been there to set things right. It is this alternate history we see in the film, or rather two such alternate histories.

The two protagonists of the film correspond to the two conflicting but intertwined fantasies about the destruction of slavery. Dr King Schultz, a bounty hunter and slave owner,³temporarily anyhow; we’ll get to that fights slavery from within the legal framework of the system, seeking to use slavery (and his personal wealth and status) to destroy itself; Django Freeman, in contrast, fights slavery from without the system, by murdering all who perpetuate it.

We see a microcosm of this duality in the opening scene of the film. Schultz confronts two slavers and antagonizes them into threatening violence, which Schultz uses as a pretext to kill one as “self-defense”. (I doubt even modern-day Texas’s expansive self-defense laws would accept Schultz’s actions here, as the “castle doctrine” requires you to be protecting your home.) He then mimes the actions of buying one of the slaves, the titular Django. Finally he presents the other slaves two choices: the legal option, to rescue the other slaver and remain enslaved, or the illegal option, to kill the other slaver and escape their bonds. Having convinced himself that all of his own actions were perfectly legal, Schultz leaves to absolve himself of the consequences of the situation he contrived, making the slaves dirty their hands with finishing the deed.

Having purchased Django, Schultz then of course immediately manumits him. No wait, nothing of the sort: he exploits his power over Django to further his broader anti-slavery aims.⁴Side note: it is a little unclear to me whether Schultz is motivated by fighting slavery, or simply uses bounty-hunting and fighting slavery as a legal and ethical outlet for his desire to commit homicide. While he makes clear that he believes slavery is wrong (well, “unenlightened”), I don’t recall him saying anything about being personally invested in bringing about change; he appears coldly indifferent. Similarly, it is unclear if Django is motivated to fight slavery as a whole, or simply by vengeance against those specific people that wronged him personally. For this essay I will write as if they both had these broader ambitions and desires. Instead we see in the next scene, Schultz explains to Django the reasons for his interest in him, and why he has decided not to give him his freedom:

Schultz sounds like someone naive from the modern era transplanted into the 1850s. Casually referring to “this slavery malarkey” is the kind of thing one can only do with the benefit of 150 years of time separating you from slavery; similarly with thinking “I feel guilty” could be an adequate apology for owning a person. None-the-less, by fully committing to taking seriously Schultz’s absurd character, Tarantino is effective at making it almost sound natural. To this Django gives no verbal response, as perhaps there is nothing he could say that would not sound so ridiculous as to break even Tarantino’s illusion of realism.

After explaining the parameters of the assistance he is seeking, Schultz continues:

To make very clear: Django cannot voluntarily enter into such an agreement while still under the coercion of being enslaved. Of course he would agree to anything that would lead to his freedom, he has no choice in the matter; and he has no recourse if Schultz fails to uphold his end of the promise. The only way for Schultz to have ethically approached this matter would have been to immediately free Django, and then negotiate with him as a free person. However to do this would remove Schultz’s main leverage, and make Schultz’s deal look a lot worse: now Django is just getting money for his contribution, not money and freedom.

Possibly Schultz means that he would give Django his freedom immediately provided he entered into the agreement, rather than only when the Brittle brothers were found; this is less bad, but does not remove the fundamental coercion to the bargaining, and Schultz is very explicit that he is using this coercive power to force the agreement he wants.

Again Django gives no verbal reply, with the arrival of another character conveniently removing the need to do so; perhaps hearing Django verbally agree would have sounded too silly even for Tarantino.

Schultz’s plan to rescue Broomhilda again works within the legal parameters of the system to outwit Candie, but ultimately falls apart due to one weakness: Schultz really wanted to shoot Candie. With the ensuing death of Schultz, the movie transitions into Django’s story, which is fundamentally a much simpler approach to fighting slavery – just shoot all the slavers. Django isn’t in a position to use money or charisma towards his ends, so he employs the one advantage he has, his superhuman gunfighting skills.

This fantasy version of history (“If I were a slave, I’d just escape or fight back!”) is explicitly expressed by Calvin Candie himself, who asks “Why don’t they kill us? … Now, if I was Old Ben, I would have cut my daddy’s goddamn throat and it wouldn’t taken me no 50 years to do it neither. But he never did.” Candie’s suggestion is extremely naive⁵Candie is depicted as solidly simple-minded, so much so that Stephen is actually running the plantation operations; his repeated use of “daddy” emphasizes his childlike understanding of the world. (though perhaps less unrealistic than Schultz’s story): slave revolts did happen, but often ended very badly, because slave-holding society specifically denied slaves access to the resources⁶“resources” meaning not just weapons but also things like communications, adequate nutrition, not being exhausted from manual labor, etc. and opportunity needed for successful rebellion. Even within the confines of the movie it is acknowledged to be an exceptional outcome, Django being described as “1 in ten thousand”, though the movie presents it more as Django being exceptional than his circumstances being exceptional.

which distinguishes “fantasy realism” from “magic realism”↩︎
Though not the flashback, which is done in a much more realist style to match its more serious tone.↩︎
temporarily anyhow; we’ll get to that↩︎
Side note: it is a little unclear to me whether Schultz is motivated by fighting slavery, or simply uses bounty-hunting and fighting slavery as a legal and ethical outlet for his desire to commit homicide. While he makes clear that he believes slavery is wrong (well, “unenlightened”), I don’t recall him saying anything about being personally invested in bringing about change; he appears coldly indifferent. Similarly, it is unclear if Django is motivated to fight slavery as a whole, or simply by vengeance against those specific people that wronged him personally. For this essay I will write as if they both had these broader ambitions and desires.↩︎
Candie is depicted as solidly simple-minded, so much so that Stephen is actually running the plantation operations; his repeated use of “daddy” emphasizes his childlike understanding of the world.↩︎
“resources” meaning not just weapons but also things like communications, adequate nutrition, not being exhausted from manual labor, etc.↩︎