Rated R. 180 minutes. At area theaters.

At times, Quentin Tarantino's storytelling bravado and his penchant for gleefully rummaging in cinema's vaults and diving its Dumpsters have made it too easy for some to marginalize him. He's gifted, sure. He's great at what he does. But is he important?

After all, he can be so flashy, so movie-movie clever. He can be brazenly brutal in ways only B-movie fans love.

He can also sharpen a scene within an inch of its life. Case in point: the nerve-wracking exchange between a Nazi officer and a French farmer hiding his Jewish neighbors in the 2009 Holocaust revenge film "Inglourious Basterds." The end product may be slightly less than the sum of its scenes, but oh those scenes. Genius.

"Django Unchained" delivers a number of audacious scenes. The initial meeting of the slave Django and bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz in the woods, for starters. But they flow purposefully into a tale of sacrifice and courage, friendship and love, that finds the two men embarking on a quest to free Django's wife from a notorious plantation called — wait for it, board-game enthusiasts — Candyland.

"Django Unchained" is Tarantino's most complete movie yet. It is also his most vital. His storytelling talents match the heft of the tale. Slavery is the bedeviling, nasty chapter in America's story. Tarantino crafted a parable of decency versus evil for a generation that never saw "Roots."

Yes, there will be over-the-top gore and scene-chewing work by Samuel L. Jackson, who plays the more-than-trusted house slave of plantation owner Calvin Candie, portrayed by Leonardo DiCaprio. Not only will you not like this man, you won't be able to make excuses for him.

But "Django Unchained" is also (even at three hours) a movie that hews to its protagonists' emotions.

Jamie Foxx is near-perfect as Django. He's got the muscular presence required to portray a man who's been exploited for his strength. Foxx also brings nimble, understated comedic timing to the buddy-flick aspects of the outing. And he pulls off a peacock blue ensemble with ridiculous dignity.

Christoph Waltz should be headed to his second Oscar nomination as Shultz. Schultz at times exhibits a cluelessness to the ways of America. Django will say as much, at one point. But it's his humanity that makes him a bit superior to cruelty.

In many ways their quest begins with a story told near a campfire. Django talks about wife Broomhilda. The name itself stops Schultz in his tracks. She bears the name of a maiden from German legend, who is imprisoned in a castle, surrounded by a ring of fire. In the legend, she's liberated by Siegfried. (Siegfried and Roy Rogers, anyone?)

They embark on their quest to gain Broomhilda her freedom. In a wink to "Mandingo," a 1975 exploitation flick Tarnatino knows well, the pair approach plantation scion Candie with the cover that Schultz wants to get into the "mandingo fighting" biz. Django is a freeman there to help him scout talent for the bare-fisted, to-the-death circuit.

Much like "Inglourious Basterds," this film offers viewers a space to work through some serious pay-back fantasies. Granted, most of them are more male than female. Though Kerry Washington brings to Broomhilda more depth and edge than your average damsel.

Schultz is the white man who does the right thing. Indeed, unlike the hero of another Civil War-era film out currently, he isn't mystified by Django's humanity. It's a given. Slavery's the thing that flummoxes him.

Tarantino achieves an elegant if disturbing symmetry in pitting Django and Schultz against Candie and Stephen.

They are, in a fashion, mirror images. Only the sight of plantation owner and slave is more distorted than a fun-house mirror. It's an image from a house of horrors.
