Inglourious Basterds

Quentin Tarantino has been one of the biggest names in directing for over a decade now, having first grabbed attentions back in 1992 with his seminal “Reservoir Dogs”. With his unmistakable style and all the enthusiasm of a small child in a very big toyshop, he’s become one of the most influential figures in the business. However, 2007’s lacklustre “Death Proof”, a eulogy to bad Grindhouse-style B-movies, was something of a disappointment. Can the gloriously misspelled “Inglourious Basterds” regain him critical acclaim?

Image via Wikipedia

In short, yes, but it’s uncertain whether he cares! “Inglourious Basterds” has all the hallmarks of a Tarantino picture: catchy anachronistic music; lashings of gore (although there are considerably fewer gory scenes than the majority of Tarantino’s previous films); a witty and quotable script; stellar performances; interesting camera-angles; close-ups on women’s feet; thinly veiled references to other films; various interconnecting plotlines; and cameos from the likes of Samuel L Jackson, Harvey Keitel, Eli Roth and of course Tarantino himself. Like most of his previous ventures, the film is a fun-filled homage to a favourite cinematic genre; this time the war movie genre and by extension the cinema of the thirties and forties. Thus we have a plot concerning a Third Reich propaganda film, a crack squad of Jewish-American Nazi-killers, a couple of glamorous femme-fatales; and a smattering of gleefully unsubtle appearances from various wartime politicians.

Naturally the direction is stunning, peppered with achingly beautiful camera angles and snazzy editing, and the script, taking the brave decision to have most of the dialogue in French and German, is full of the sparkling wit and quirky humour we’ve come to expect from Mr Tarantino, ensuring there is never a dull moment. The cast are uniformly excellent; Brad Pitt has the time of his life as ludicrously-accented American soldier Aldo Raine, while Austrian actor Christoph Waltz steals every scene as the oily, multi-lingual SS officer Hans Landa. It’s not a perfect film by any means: a large number of factual and continuity errors make this the cinematic equivalent of a colander; supposedly tense scenes often lack bite; and it certainly doesn’t have that touch of genius that made “Pulp Fiction” or “Reservoir Dogs” such influential pieces. The plot is relatively ordinary and, with the exception of a beautifully played opening “chapter”, rather predictable. Some will probably feel mislead by the trailers: the “Basterds” themselves have very little screen time and the subtitle-heavy dialogue and prevalence of sedentary scenes will put off the gore-hungry crowd while the violence will deter those looking for a more cultural angle. Doubtless others still will find the concept itself somewhat offensive: for a film dealing with the Nazi occupation of France and the treatment of the Jews under it, it’s not exactly subtle nor is it in particularly good taste.

That being said, there’s plenty of fun to be had. If you’re deterred by the thought of scenes involving people sitting around tables eating strudel and ordering cream or by combination of violent comedy with tragic reality, then you may want to give this a miss. If, on the other hand, the idea of watching Goebbels break down into tears, Hitler having a giggling fit or simply hearing Brad Pitt say “buon giorno” in a Tennessee accent, well this may be the film for you. It’s not a great film, but it’s a very fun one to watch, and as it throws historical accuracy to the wind, one can’t help thinking that this is how the Second World War should have unfolded.