Review: Inglourious Basterds Written By Brian Paterson on 8.24.09
Inglourious Basterds, Quentin Tarantino's revisionist World War II epic, has been a long time coming. Penned over the span of a decade, it was intended to be said director's magnum opus; a lovingly crafted homage to the films and filmmakers of yesteryear with an added splash of pop-culture. Those expecting a tame, politically correct effort may end up feeling like they themselves have taken a Louisville Slugger to the cranium – it's horrific in nature and at times quite gruesome, but even through the buckets of blood never ceases to remain thought provoking. Every character, set piece, and line of dialogue is the bi-product of one man's freakish obsession with cinema, and its readily apparent from Basterds that he's not only transcended the styles and techniques of the old masters, but has proven himself nothing less than the finest auteur of the past twenty years.
Inglourious Basterds is dissected into five chapters, each ranging in scope from a simple exchange between dairy farmer and S.S. officer to the introduction of Lieutenant Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), also known as “The Apache”, and his fearless band of Jewish-American grunts. Though Tarantino gives no clues as to Lt. Raine's religion, he is obviously quite sympathetic to the Jewish cause. So much so, that he claims his reasons for being overseas are not to show mercy and reeducate the Germans who've bought into Hitler's ideology, but rather to “disembowel and dismember” every last one of them. He is a flawed hero in that he believes the Nazis lack humanity. The fact is, Tarantino's Nazis are all too human; one celebrates the birth of his newborn son by drinking with his comrades, while another German officer refuses to reveal the positions of his unit, even after being threatened with the prospect of certain death. One particular enemy Private proclaims he is “more than just a uniform”, and unlike many other World War II films which polarize the roles of good and evil so harshly, Tarantino's humanistic Nazis portray just how true that young Private's statement really is.
The other half of Basterds is concerned with Shosanna Dreyfus (Melanie Laurent) and her subsequent tale of revenge against the Nazi high command. After her family is massacred by Colonel Hans Landa (Christoher Waltz), an S.S. officer more akin to Sherlock Holmes than average WWII soldier, she escapes the horrors of war by moving to Nazi-occupied Paris, inheriting her own cinema in the process. It is undoubtedly in this half of the film in which its most memorable performances are put on display. Tarantino has created one of his greatest characters in Col. Landa, who is as equally riotous as he is horrific. After only a few minutes with Basterds' main antagonist, it's a no-brainer too see why he was awarded the Best Actor at this year's Cannes Film Festival. Pay special attention to the scene in which he and Shosanna share formalities over apple strudels – you'll find Waltz's linguistic delivery smoother than the cream dolloped atop their desserts.
One aspect of Tarantino's films that always deserve mention are his superb musical accompaniments. Always the consummate admirer of the Italian Spaghetti Westerns of the 1950's and 60's, Tarantino has once again chosen Ennio Morricone (see Kill Bill Volumes 1 + 2) as the film's primary artist. Though the famed virtuoso's ballads coincide beautifully with the film's underlying themes and characters, it is Tarantino's choice of setting his opening credits to “The Green Leaves of Summer” (also heard in John Wayne's The Alamo [1960]) that will tug at the heartstrings of any classic cinema lover. What's even more interesting about his musical choices is that, when you expect him to continue his tribute to classic composers, Tarantino turns one hundred-eighty degrees and drops David Bowie's “Cat People” during one of the most tense moments of the film. Its another instance of his intricate blending of the old and the new, and creating something so unique that it stands entirely on its own merits.
If I could find any fault with the film, it would lie in the horrid accents of Brad Pitt and Eli Roth. Consider Pitt who, in the past year, has had to learn not only a bayou dialect for The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but also a Tennessee dialect for Basterds. It would seem he bit off a bit more than he could chew, and ironically, its during the point in which Pitt and Roth feign speaking Italian when they're at their best, and undeniably funny at that. Some will cringe whenever the “Bear Jew” opens his mouth to speak, but it's tolerable considering he only has five or six spoken lines (Tarantino mercifully cut a huge segment from the original script explaining just how Roth acquired his baseball bat) of dialogue. On the flip side, audiences will absolutely adore the cameo appearance by Mike Myers as a cheeky British general. Although only a few minutes in length, it's an infectious performance which ultimately serves as a device to make the lesser stars (i.e. Michael Fassbender as Lt. Archie Hicox) just that much better.
As of three days after Basterds' opening, I've seen the film a total of three times – and, like Col. Landa says of Monsieur LaPadite's three gorgeous daughters in the opening chapter, I found each more brilliant than the last. Critics will argue where this one stands amongst Tarantino's previous entries, but I'm not fully prepared to begin that discussion just yet. What I am sure of is that Basterds is Tarantino's most imaginative, polished work to date. Its drama is affecting, its action explosive, and its humor so perfectly nuanced that you'll forget you're watching a WWII film. Most importantly, it's two and a half hours of unadulterated entertainment, and at the end of the day, if that isn't worth the Alexander Hamilton you fork over for admission, well then, I'm just not sure what is.
I've provided the link to "The Green Leaves of Summer". Enjoy!
