Django and King Ranch Pizza

The two go hand-in-hand, right?

Alamo Drafthouse is an anomaly. In a good way. A bad movie at the Alamo is still a good experience and then, something like a Tarantino film is even better.

I tried a new pizza and it came with a disclaimer. The recipe changed. Still good.

Even better? The movie itself — with tons of cameo roles and the two central figures are amazing.

It is a fun movie with all the requisite Tarantino trademarks, whack characters, over the top violence.

I’d call it a gory romance.

The only criticism I’ve heard, strictly noise, is that there is the over-use of the N word.

It might’ve been mildly grating, as was some of the foul language, but not so much. Two words: Quentin Tarantino.

What did you expect?

It does run long, pee beforehand. Most near three hours. Wicked good nod to the author for getting German (co-opted from Norse) mythology worked into a plot line. Kept waiting on the fat lady to sing.

The advantage at the Alamo is the before show programming. Half an hour of celluloid goodness (and badness) culled from the last four decades of movies-making. There were clips from everything but Pulp fiction, with the exception being a clip within a clip that was part of two critics dissing Tarantino.

“He won’t be around long.”

Guest spots by Tom Wopat, Bruce Dern, I think, cameo by Don Johnson, and a whole horde of others, including the original Django player.

Near three hours of almost laughable black humor, revenge, almost cartoon violence, and a funny German guy. Never knew the Germans to yuck it up so much.

Fine film, and at the Alamo, that much better.

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