No, there hasn't been a mistake. Quentin Tarantino hasn't suddenly forgotten which way you're supposed to point the camera when shooting a motion picture (oh, I should probably point out that the barely distinguishable person in grainy picture above is actually him) - this is what happens when directors make a valiant effort to place themselves right in the action ... They get blown up ... 100% of the time. Thankfully, everyone's favourite auteur is still alive. Apparently, he brought in a load of nerds and tasked them with making it LOOK like he was exploding via a new technique called Sea Gee Eye (whatever happened to suffering for your art?) and in doing so, he was able to create the 4th best shot of his movie career. Now, I have never escorted a man out of Greenville, Mississippi with the intention of having him work as a mining slave during the mid-1800's (heck, I'm not even sure I was born then), but one of the main things I wouldn't do in that situation is bestow a revolver on said man, as I can imagine he might be harbouring a feeling of dislike towards me. Another thing I would try to avoid, is being in the presence of this gun-toting, grudge-holding chap with sacks of dynamite strapped perilously about my person, because (and I may be coming across as a little pessimistic here) I can only think he might use this hazardous condition to his advantage. Well, Django Freeman did just that - igniting his chubby captor's satchel contents with a bullet and sending him sky high in the process. Cue utter delight from cinema audiences everywhere who thought we might have to endure the rest of the film in the company of a strangely accented employee from the LeQuint Dickey Mining Company. Quentin, thank you, for blasting yourself to pieces.
