Django Unchained Monologues

With the help of a German bounty-hunter, a freed slave sets out to rescue his wife from a brutal plantation-owner in Mississippi.

Actually, I was thinking of that poor devil you fed to the dogs today, D'Artagnan. And I was wondering what Dumas would make of all this.

Alexander Dumas. He wrote "The Three Musketeers." I figured you must be an admirer. You named your slave after his novel's lead character. If Alexander Dumas had been there today, I wonder what he would have made of it?

Well, Brünnhilde was a princess. She was a daughter of Wotan, god of all gods. Anyways, Her father is really mad at her.

I can't exactly remember. She disobeys him in some way. So he puts her on top of the mountain.

It's a German legend, there's always going to be a mountain in there somewhere. And he puts a fire-breathing dragon there to guard the mountain. And he surrounds her in a circle of hellfire. And there, Brünnhilde shall remain. Unless a hero arises brave enough to save her.

Quiet spectacularly so. He scales the mountain, because he's not afraid of it. He slays the dragon, because he's not afraid of him. And he walks through hellfire... because Brünnhilde's worth it.

Mister Candie, normally I would say "Auf wiedersehen," but since what "auf wiedersehen" actually means is "'till I see you again", and since I never wish to see you again, to you, sir, I say goodbye!

Let me get this straight: Your slave wife speaks German and her name is Broomhilda von Schaft?

My name is Dr. King Schultz, and like yourself, Marshall, I am a servant of the court. The man lying dead in the dirt, who the good people of Daughtrey saw fit to elect as their sheriff, who went by the name of Bill Sharp, is actually a wanted outlaw by the name of Willard Peck, with a price on his head of 200 dollars. Now, that's 200 dollars, dead or alive.

I'm aware this is probably disconcerting news. But I'm willing to wager this man was elected sheriff sometime in the last two years. I know this because three years ago, he was rustling cattle from the B.C. Corrigan Cattle Company of Lubbock, Texas. Now, this is a warrant, made out by circuit court Judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin Texas. You're encouraged to wire him. He'll back up who I am, and who your dear departed sheriff was. In other words Marshall... you owe me 200 dollars.

Our mutual friend has a flair for the dramatic.

I must admit, I'm at a bit of a quandary when it comes to you. On one hand, I despise slavery. On the other hand, I need your help. If you're not in a position to refuse, all the better. So, for the time being, I'm gonna make this slavery malarkey work to my benefit. Still, having said that, I feel guilty...

So, I would like the two of us to enter into an agreement.

I'm looking for the Brittle brothers.

However, at this endeavor, I'm at a slight disadvantage insofar as I don't know what they look like.

But you do. Don't ya?

Good. So here's my agreement: You travel with me until we find them...

I hear at least two of them are overseeing up in Gatlinburg, but I don't know where. That means we visit every plantation in Gatlinburg till we find 'em. And when we find them, you point them out, and I kill them.

You do that, I agree to give you your freedom; $25 per Brittle brother.

Wunderbar, Marshall! I have relieved myself of all weapons, and just as you have instructed, I am ready to step outside, with my hands raised above my head. I trust, as a representative of the criminal justice system of The United States of America, I shan't be shot down in the street, by either you or your deputies, before I've had my day in court.

Yes, that's exactly what I mean! Do I have your word as a lawman, not to shoot me down like a dog in the street?

Fair enough Marshall, here we come!

They're a little tense out there. So don't make any quick movements, and let me do the talking.

Yes indeed we are. Marshall Tatum, may I address you and your deputies, and apparently the entire town of Daughtrey, as to the incident that just occurred?

Now, as to you poor devils. So as I see it, when it comes to the subject of what to do next, you gentlemen have two choices. One: once I'm gone, you could lift that beast off the remaining Speck, then carry him to the nearest town; which would be at least 37 miles back the way you came. Or two: you could unshackle yourselves, take that rifle, put a bullet in his head, bury the two of them deep, and then make your way to a more enlightened area of this country. The choice is yours.

Oh! And on the off chance there are any astronomy aficionados amongst you, the North Star is that one. Tata!

Everybody calm down, we mean no one else any harm!

I am Dr. King Schultz, a legal representative of the criminal justice system of the United States of America. The man to my left is Django Freeman, he's my deputy. In my pocket is a warrant signed by circuit court judge Henry Allen Laudermilk of Austin, Texas, for the arrest and capture, dead or alive, of John Brittle, Ellis Brittle, and Roger Brittle...

You know them by the name "Shaffer," but the butchers real names were Brittle. These are wanted men; the law wants them for murder. I reiterate, this warrant states "dead or alive." When Django and myself executed these men on sight, we were operating within our legal boundaries. Now, I realize passions are high, but I must warn you, the penalty for taking deadly force against a officer of the court in the performance of his duty is, you will be hung by the neck until you are dead.

Do you know what they're going to call you? The "Fastest Gun in the South".

That is who Smitty Bacall is. If Smitty Bacall wanted to start a farm at 22, they would never have printed that.

But Smitty Bacall wanted to rob stagecoaches, and he didn't mind killing people to do it. Do you want to save your wife by doing what I do? This is what I do. I kill people and sell their corpses for cash. This corpse is worth seven thousand dollars. Now, quit your pussyfooting and shoot him.

Despite that cart, I haven't practiced dentistry in five years. But these days, I practice a new profession…

Bounty hunter.

Do you know what a bounty hunter is?

Well, the way the slave trade deals in human lives for cash, a bounty hunter deals in corpses.

Prost!

The state places a bounty on a man's head. I track that man, I find that man, I kill that man.

After I've killed him, I transport that man's corpse back to the authorities. Sometimes that's easier said than done. I show that corpse to the authorities, proving yes, indeed, I truly have killed him, at which point the authorities pay me the bounty. So, like slavery, it's a flesh for cash business.

Well frankly, I've never given anybody their freedom before. And now that I have, I feel vaguely responsible for you. Plus, when a German meets a real life Sigfried, that's kind of a big deal. As a German, I'm obliged to help you on your quest to rescue your beloved Broomhilda.

So, say a man wants to buy a horse - *needs* to buy a horse. He walks up to the farmer's farm. He knocks on the farmer's door and asks the farmer to buy his horse. And you know what the farmer says? The farmer says: no.

Fair enough. But, now you're a horse thief and they hang horse thieves. Not to mention the horse goes back to his original owner because the horse is still his property. We need her and we need a bill of sale.

May I offer an alternative plan of action?

Don't get so carried away with your retribution. You'll lose sight of why we're here.

Yes, I do! Stop antagonizing Candie. You're going to blow this whole charade or, more than likely, get us both killed. And I, for one, don't intend to die in Chi-cka-saw County, Mississippi, USA.

Mr. Speck, I'm afraid I'll require a bill of sale. Do you have one?

So, bright boy, Moguy tells me you looked over my African flesh and you was none too impressed, huh?

Well, then, we got nothing more to talk about. You see, you want to buy a beat ass nigger from me, those are the beat ass niggers I want to sell, so…

Well, I don't sell the niggers I don't wanna sell.

And what do you consider "ridiculous?"

Gentlemen, you had my curiosity, now you have my attention.

Hello. Stephen, my boy!

Aw, Stephen, you have nails for breakfast? What's the matter? Why you so ornery? You miss me? Huh?

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Stephen! Stephen! Let's keep it funny. Django here's a freeman.

That nigger there. Let me at least introduce the two of you. Django, this is a another cheeky black bugger like yourself, Stephen. Stephen, this here is Django. You two oughta hate each other.

Django, and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers. And they are our guests, Stephen. And you, you old, decrepit bastard, you are to show them every hospitality. You understand that?

You don't have to know why. Do you understand?

Well, good. They're spending the night. Go open the guest bedrooms and get two ready.

Stephen. He's a slaver. It's different.

Well, you got a problem with that?

That is my problem! They are mine to burn! Now your problem right now is making a good impression! And I want you to start solving that problem right now and get them goddamn rooms ready!

Man, the lip on him! Whoo! He's getting worse and worse. Now, WHERE IS MY BEAUTIFUL SISTER?

This is Ben. He's a old Joe that lived around here for a long time. And I do mean a long damn time. Old Ben here took care of my daddy and my daddy's daddy, till he up and keeled over one day. Old Ben took care of me. Growing up the son of a huge plantation owner in Mississippi puts a white man in contact with a whole lot of black faces. I spent my whole life here right here in Candyland, surrounded by black faces. And seeing them every day, day in day out, I only had one question. Why don't they kill us? Now right out there on that porch three times a week for fifty years, old Ben here would shave my daddy with a straight razor. Now if I was old Ben, I would have cut my daddy's goddamn throat, and it wouldn't have taken me no fifty years to do it neither. But he never did. Why not? You see, the science of phrenology is crucial to understanding the separation about two species. In the skull of the African here, the area associated with submissiveness is larger than any human or other sub-human species on planet Earth. If you examine this piece of skull here, you'll notice three distinct dimples. Here, here and here. Now if I was holding a skull of a… of an Isaac Newton or Galileo, these three dimples would be in the area of the skull most associated with creativity. But this is the skull of old Ben, and in the skull of old Ben unburdened by genius, these three dimples exist in the area of the skull most associated with servility.

Now bright boy, I will admit you are pretty clever. But if I took this hammer here and I bashed it in your skull, you would have the same three dimples in the same place as old Ben.

Never the less, here in Chickasaw County, a deal ain't done till the two parties have shook hands. Even after all that paper signin', don't mean shit you don't shake my hand.

Mr. Pooch, if she tries to leave here before this nigger-loving German shakes my hand, you cut her ass down!

Dr. Schultz, in Greenville, you yourself said that for the right nigger you'd be willing to pay what some may consider is a ridiculous amount. To which me myself said "What is your definition of ridiculous?" To which you said "$12,000." Now, considering y'all have ridden a whole lot of miles…

… went through a whole lot of trouble…

... and done spread a whole lot of bull to purchase this lovely lady right here, it would appear that Broomhilda is in fact the right nigger. And if y'all wanna leave Candyland with Broomhilda, the price... is $12,000.

Yes, I do, Doctor. You see, under the laws of Chickasaw County, Broomhilda, here, is my property... and I can choose to do with MY PROPERTY... WHATEVER I SO DESIRE!

And if y'all think my price for this nigger here is too steep, what I'm gonna desire to do is...

TAKE THIS GODDAMNED HAMMER HERE, AND BEAT HER ASS TO DEATH WITH IT! RIGHT IN FRONT OF BOTH YA'LL! THEN WE CAN EXAMINE THE THREE DIMPLES INSIDE BROOMHILDA'S SKULL! NOW… WHAT'S IT GONNA BE DOC? HUH? WHAT'S IT GOING TO BE?

SOLD… TO THE MAN WITH EXCEPTIONAL BEARD, AND HIS UNEXCEPTIONAL NIGGER!

I've heard tell about you. I heard you been telling everybody them mandingos ain't no damn good, ain't nothing nobody is selling is worth buying - I'm curious. What makes you such a mandingo expert?

Django, and his friend in gray here, Dr. Schultz, are customers. And they are our guests, Stephen, and you, you old decrepit bastard are to show them every hospitality. You understand that?

Well, be careful now, Dr. Schultz. You might have caught yourself a little dose of nigger love. Nigger love's a powerful emotion, boy. It's like a pool of black tar. Once it catches your ass, your caught.

Where I part company from many of my phrenologist colleagues is I believe there is a level above bright, above talented, above loyal that a nigger can aspire to. Say, one nigger that just pops up in ten thousand. The exceptional nigger.

But Lara Lee, Dr. Schultz is from Dusseldorf, they don't got niggers there. He's a man of medicine! I'm sure it would fascinate him, the niggers endurance for pain. These niggers are tough, Dr. Schultz, no doubt about it. Hildi's got somethin' like four lashes on her back. If Lara Lee just get one, she'd lose her goddamn mind! Look at that Doctor. It's like a painting. Look at that.

Why would they go through all that trouble for a nigger with a chewed up back, ain't worth three hundred dollars?

If she's who they want, why the whole snake oil pitch about Mandingos then?

Yes, it did. His wife, huh? If there'd been a snake, it would have bit me. Those lyin' goddamn time wastin' sonsabitches! Sonsabitches!

Moguy, I want you to take care of my new boy, here. You find him a room with a soft bed and then you bring him up a pony to lick his pole.

Now, now, now, now, now. No beggin', no playin' on my soft heart. You in trouble now, son. Now, I done paid five hundred dollars for you. And when I pay five hundred dollars, I expect to get five fights outta a nigga 'fore he roll over and play dead. I done said I'm runnin' a business here. You've fought three fights.

You never know how these nigger nicknames get started. His name was Joe. Maybe one day he said he was cold? Who knows?