dir. Quentin Tarantino
Starring Brad Pitt, Mélanie Laurent, Christoph Waltz
Right. Inglourious Basterds. QT’s big finish to the summer movie season. What did I expect? I expected a Quentin Tarantino movie. What did I get? Seems the most sensible answer is a Quentin Tarantino movie, but I also got a nice cinematic gift basket in the form of a Spaghetti Western’d, Jew-glorified, ahistorical and revenge-driven take on World War II. More importantly, I got entertained. I applaud you, QT. Not only do you make make Nazis seem like sit-com material, you sure bring in the big guns—with your big, controversial name engraved all along the barrel.
Over the course of my QT viewing experience, I’ve discovered that his style is so recognizable, so distinct, and so bold that you can’t help but to notice it. Like some sort of filmmaking crazy glue, it just smears on and won’t go away, no matter how much water you put over it. It just stays there, isolated on your arm, laughing in your face and bugging you day after day. But then you realize; there really is no hope trying to wash it off now, since it won’t work anyways. Don’t waste time and energy doing something hopeless—just work around it. Heck, it doesn’t even look that bad anyways.
Well, the glue’s still there. And it’s sticky as hell. QT style is all over this film, and rightly so, being of his creation. Silly brutality? Well, there’s a Jew-Bear. Open to interpretation. Non-linear storyline? QT loves his dramaturgies. Quirky, interesting characters? Charming and eloquent jew-hunting Nazi official. Southern drawling, all-American, rag-tag lieutenant. Hardened Jewish orphan who owns a Parisian cinema. I’d say it speaks for itself. What about distinctly unique and peculiar scenes? Mexican standoffs, barroom battles of wit, Interrogations of cow farmers disguised as pleasant table conversation—I think there’s substantial evidence of QT in this movie. Unlike the other “glues” in filmmaking, QT’s sticks hard, long, and always leaves a mark.
Brad Pitt is a Basterd. No, not a bastard. A Basterd.
His sticky style is worthy of applause, sure. But what makes this one so different from the others? QT style is in all of his films, from Kill Bill to Reservoir Dogs to Death Proof, it’s there. It could possibly could be Waltz’s mindblowingly awesome and Oscar-worthy performance as the most charming Nazi I’ve ever seen. It could also be QT’s loyalty to his promises. He promised a spaghetti western mixed with some WW2, and he delivered. On paper, that idea does not seem flattering, yet on screen, it provides endless hilarity and action that you can’t keep yourself from laughing at QT’s ability to pull something this grand off. It could also very well be that Quentin Tarantino is an alright director. Maybe he’s not a hack; maybe he makes some really fun and unique films, patented to his detailed style and passion. Maybe, just maybe, he’s not that bad a director.
Some call him a hack, but he’s proven himself more than enough that he can throw out some enjoyable entertainment. Inglourious Basterds is the right kind of movie to prove QT’s still kicking strong, and he’s not close to stopping. It’s a Jew Pride, Nazi Hate, European Western, Hitler mocking, head-bashing, swastika-carving, people-burning, revenge-taking satire of history. It’s QT. Take it or leave it.
Seriously though, I suggest you take it.
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