Directed by Quentin Tarantino(2009)
Instinct calls for a diatribe upon the grossly overrated nature of Quentin Tarantino, taking the following potshot: Tarantino is to cinema what Slipknot is to metal - not authentic. But I won't do that. I've learned to accept the director's work for what it is: entertainment. He often attempts to shift into the realm of art, but such is little more than clever dialogue and ultra-violence cloaked in dramatic camerawork. And that's fine. My conscious doesn't require an overhaul with every movie. Sometimes things just need to go boom.
Inglourious Basterds delivers what you'd expect it to. Pronounced wit and superfluous brutality. Brad Pitt cracks a funny and a Nazi gets a swastika carved in his forehead. Justice served. To condense a needless summary that can be found in abundance over at Rotten Tomatoes, you should walk out of the theater entertained. Though I will add that Christoph Waltz gives a breakout performance as the cunning and malicious (and humorous) Colonel Hans Landa, aka "Jew Hunter".
But in comparison to Tarantino's past offerings, Inglourious Basterds lacks. Namely in terms of character depth regarding "The Basterds". This is a shame, considering the opportunity presented by the notion of a Jewish death squad in World War II. We could have had The Dirty Dozen meets The Watchmen. Though some great character ideas are presented, like the baseball bat-wielding Bear Jew, they never flesh out beyond their awkward introductions. Instead, the film's two other storylines eat up the clock, leaving Brad Pitt's brazen doofusness as the only memorable trait of the Bastards. Inglourious Basterds needed the large scope that Kill Bill had, allowing for a number of characters and storylines to develop without any gaps or forced acceleration. This film feels like way too much was left in the editing room.
Alright. I said I wasn't going to be an asshole on this one, but it can't be helped. The premise here is outrageous. Beyond that, it's too easy. Who can the audience justifiably hate the most? Nazis. Who can take the most satisfying revenge on them? Jews. Tarantino is like that whale of a stepfather who spoils the children with expensive gifts in order to win their affection; he might gain their favor, but ignobly so. Again, I know I'm not supposed to access the cerebral with this guy, but it pains me to see him held up as a genius by most (Copernicus was a genius, idiots), when he's really just dressing up cheap conflict in pomp and circumstance. More painful is knowing that Tarantino has an extensive knowledge of cinema and continues to produce this ornamental tom-foolery.
He needs to learn how to spell, too.
I enjoyed it but It wasn't without some serious flaws. I know everyone rants and raves about the dialogue he writes, but for christ sakes, it gets irritating to me. Basterds had two great examples of when it works and when its just over indulgent. The first chapter in the farm house was him at his best, that scene was so incredibly intense to watch, the acting was superb, and it was all due to the conversation between the two men. On the flip side, the whole scene in the bar left me screaming in my head "WILL SOMEONE JUST DIE ALREADY," it went on far to long for me to continue to give a shit. He gets lost sometimes in jerking himself off, even after he's spent his load. I was entertained but I would rank it near the bottom of his catalog. The first chapter just made me wish the man would make a semi-serious straight laced drama or suspense movie cause I think he's incredibly capable of it. But he just can't help himself in throwing little wily quirks in there to make stick to his safe and successful style. Time for the man to branch out.
ReplyDeleteI need to learn how to spell and grammar check too...
ReplyDeleteI think you're spot on with the masturbation metaphor. If we were dealing with Tarantino as an actual masturbator, he'd definitely be flogging it more than five times a day.
ReplyDeleteI also enjoyed the movie. In fact, it was better than I thought it would be; the trailer had me cringing. But like we've both more or less said, the whole "more is more" credo that Tarantino recycles with each effort is getting tired.