If you don't know who Quentin Tarantino is by now, then you most likely haven't seen one of the greatest movies ever made, (seriously, one of the greatest movies ever made) and if you haven't seen that movie, then shame on you. I just canceled our Titan's tickets because I can't be friends with you anymore until you see it, and here I was all ready to share those overpriced nachos with you. Thanks, friend.
Set in a World War II that doesn't actually exist, Inglourious Basterds is a vibrant work of fiction birthed from the mind of a very deranged, but very awesome man (skip to the 2:50 mark. seriously, he's awesome). Each character is bizarre and beautifully acted, from hack director Eli Roth, to the most engaging Nazi you've never met. Who, by the way, is so good, that if he isn't up for an Oscar based on his performance, I'll be very, very angry.
The biggest initial shock of the film has to be how fantastic Brad Pitt actually is. From the early trailers, I was not very excited about having to hear the sequel to The Terrible Case of Brad Pitt's Accent's for another two and a half hours. In truth, I was dreading it. Mmm, there's nothing like the sound of vocal cords strained against the larynx to produce forced voice modulation. The interesting thing is, Pitt is absolutely wonderful in the movie. He manages to wrangle each scene he's in by the throat and steal it away from his likewise fantastically acted rag-tag team of Nazi mutilators and German's waiting to be mutilated. My biggest gripe of the film actually turned out to be that there wasn't enough Pitt and his Basterds; they're easily the best part of the entire movie. Which, by the way, is bloody brilliant. It's one part gut wrenching, scalp tingling, plasma boiling action, two parts overindulgent, dull and maniacal, with a slight tinge of comedy.
Sadly, like all of Tarantino's films, this bloated calf of a movie slightly teeters on the edge of occasional boredom. Though, it's really one of Tarantino's staples: forced boredom used as a ploy to lull one into a state of cinema bliss so that only the most gruesome of plot twists could permeate your comfort bubble. The problem is that some of these lulls are slightly dull and uninteresting. It's easy to find yourself flipping the phone open to catch the time.
Be warned: don't check the time. You might end up missing some of the best cinematic magic this year is going to offer. For each little breath that is forced down your throat, the wind is going to be knocked from your sails in the scene's impending resolution; each of which is more gut wrenching than the last and still not as shocking as the next. It's the single most unpleasant chess match of give and take you'll ever enjoy sitting through.
Inglourious Basterds is not Tarantino's best, or even close to it, but it is one of the finer releases of this year. It's a powerful mock up of the war film genre in the best of ways; it's bloodier than all of them, it's longer than the majority of them, and it's brilliant like the best of them.
Basterd's get's a solid goseeitorI'llfindyouandcarveaIHATEGOODMOVIESinto
yourforeheadwithmyplasticlightsaber.
That's a 4 or 5 out of 5 or something like that.
Links:
Trailer #1
Trailer #2
Interviews: IN OTHER LANGUAGES! HOW MODERN!
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