Review: Inglourious Basterds

[Scott Mendelson]

Inglourious Basterds
2009
150 minutes
Rated R

by Scott Mendelson

There's an absolutely fantastic 110-minute thriller hidden beneath the
somewhat bloated 150-minute Inglourious Basterds. Two things save the
picture from its over-length and Tarantino's now infamous need to have
characters ramble on. First of all, unlike the dreadfully dull Death
Proof, the never-ending conversation is used in several major scenes
as a way to build suspense and tension. In the frighteningly effective
prologue as well as several other moments, the non-stop babbling is
used as a weapon and an instrument of fear. Most of the chit-chat
belongs to Christoph Waltz, who plays the would-be villain of the
picture. As a 'Jew Hunter' personally dispatched by Hitler to find
hidden Jews, Col Hans Landa uses the art of allegedly sophisticated
conversation to draw out the moment, to further intimidate his would-
be victims. Truth be told, in terms of screen time and impact, Waltz
is truly the star of this film. And yes, it's ironic that a
revisionist fantasy about Jewish American soldiers terrorizing Nazis
is in fact stolen by the Nazi. It's a star-making turn and I'll be
shocked if Waltz doesn't receive an Oscar nomination next year.

The other saving grace of the picture is its structure. The film is
comprised of five chapters, the first three running just over an hour
total, with the final two parts taking up nearly 90-minutes. In a way,
the film feels more like five one-act plays that eventually blend
together to tell one story. The film's fans will each have their
favorite chapter. The first is the tightest and most suspenseful, the
fourth is the one that will please the Tarantino fans, and the finale
is... well let's just say that's where most of the footage from the
previews is taken from. In a strange way, I feel the same way about
Inglourious Basterds as I do about GI Joe: the Rise of Cobra. Both are
severely flawed films that are inanely casual about their often
horrifying violence. Both lack any real character development behind
one or two leads. And both meet the criteria of being lousy films but
awfully good movies.

The Tarantino picture earns points for having female leads who are
actually adult women. Diane Kruger plays an inversed variation on
Errol Flynn and Melanie Lauremen (really the film's second lead)
reminds us of how damn sexy elegance can be. If she has an American
film career after this, it'll be largely due to the opening shots of
the fifth chapter. Brad Pitt basically chews scenery and Eli Roth has
nothing to do. Despite itself, and despite the pervasive immorality of
the entire picture ('yea-haw... let's cheer on as pissed-off Jews
become every bit as vile as the Nazis that they are fighting!"), the
movie works as a movie. Oddly enough, a climactic moment of reflection
seems to be almost apologizing for the crude tone and absolutely
heartless violence of the previous 135-minutes, which had me wondering
if this was some kind of subversive take on the 'lets make our enemies
inhuman' philosophy that drives both war and general malaise. Alas,
that idea is overtly dashed by the blood-thirsty, crowd-pleasing final
scenes.

I'd be lying if I didn't say I was turned off by the utter lack of
humanity at play (the basterds are such merry and soulless killers
that there are moments where our sympathies lie with the Nazi
victims), and I wish I knew if Tarantino was trying to say anything of
merit. But overall, Inglourious Basterds is a fine mess of a movie, an
often suspenseful, occasionally witty, and usually entertaining bit
of, yes, pulp fiction.

Grade: B