Here Come the Basterds

08.21.09

I am a pretty big fan of Quentin Tarantino’s work. When I first read about Inglourious Basterds a year ago, I was really looking forward to the film. However, when I saw the trailer for Inglourious Basterds a month ago, I was underwhelmed to say the least. It was easily the least intriguing trailer for a Tarantino film that I had ever beheld. The poster was good, the press was good, but the trailer was mediocre. I resolved to keep an even keel and see the movie without high expectations. This was the best course of action.

The movie starts out pretty strongly. The Nazis are painted vividly, in a rich, cartoonish fashion reminiscent of the mad villains of Spielberg and Lucas’ Indiana Jones trilogy, as opposed to the hollow, cardboard antagonists of 2008’s borefest Valkyrie. The film opens with a massacre, leaving the audience good and angry at those racist kraut bastards right off the bat, as well we should be. (Editor’s note: I am allowed to use the slur “kraut” because my mother is half German, and one is allowed to use slurs that apply to oneself, as self-deprecation is the hallmark of the civilized humorist. Thankfully, our family’s German-American kinsmen fought on the side of the Allies against the Nazis in the Battle of the Bulge. Carry on.)

As the film picks up pace, it becomes pretty badass. It’s one of those flicks that teaches you how to be a MAN. The characters, both heroes and villains alike, are tough, clever, well-mannered, and lethal. This combination of the seemingly disparate traits of decorum and ruthlessness gives rise to a myriad of characters steeped in the mythic, old-fashioned values of yesteryear. Both Axis and Allies alike are able to converse civilly over a glass of 33 year old Scotch, leaving the viewer longing for the days when, political differences aside, men were gentlemen, and women were ladies. Truly, wit and good manners are lost arts.

Viewers who tire of the long-winded and nuanced rambling that is the backbone of Tarantino dialogue may find themselves snoring throughout this film. Though I immensely enjoy such lifelike discourse, I did find the film to be paced a bit slowly in the second half. I wish he had taken more time to chop the film up, speed up the slow bits, and enrich the Basterds with more back story and action. As it stands, Hugo Stiglitz is the only character whose story we get a peek at, in what is one of the more entertaining scenes of the film.

The Allies:
Brad Pitt is decent, but doesn’t deserve the gushing praise that most fans will doubtless bestow upon him. Michael Fassbender is classy and personable as a British officer; one wishes his character had more screen time. Til Schweiger dominates as German defector Hugo Stiglitz. Eli Roth’s first scene as the much-hyped “Bear Jew” is the epitome of anticlimax and a bit of a letdown. Though tall and burly, Roth lacks the voice and acting chops of a man who would strike fear in the hearts of Nazis. One wonders how much better the movie would’ve been had Adam Sandler portrayed the “Bear Jew,” as was originally intended. However, Roth later redeems himself in a theater scene, where his facial expression alone is enough to induce laughter. The rest of the Basterds aren’t really developed at all; one finds oneself asking “Where the hell did that guy come from?” on at least two occasions. Mike Myers also has an amusing cameo.

The Axis:
Christoph Waltz is amusing and strangely likable as a sinister and meddlesome SS colonel. Hitler himself is portrayed by Martin Wuttke in a farcical and laughable manner; truly, his costume designer deserves an applause. The caped ensemble he wears in his first scene eclipses any previous wardrobe assigned to the character on the silver screen thus far. Daniel Brühl is decent as a seemingly innocent Nazi war hero, and August Diehl is excellent as an evil, aristocratic Gestapo officer.

The exploits of the Basterds themselves seem horribly neglected, though the film does stretch out many other scenes almost to the point of tedium, saving the film in the nick of time with a climax that is both ridiculous and uproarious. Humorously and somewhat accurately described by co-star Eli Roth as “Jewish porn,” Basterds makes no attempts at historical accuracy but rather seems to exist in an alternate universe.

Basterds frequently alludes to filmmakers and films of the early 20th century, and inspires me to research this work that Tarantino is paying such blatant tribute to. In a way, this is the perfect movie for a cinephile: in addition to the obscure film references, much of the action in the film itself revolves around a movie theater.

For me, the biggest glaring weakness of this movie was its soundtrack. With the exception of David Bowie’s Cat People opening Chapter 5 in an appropriately ominous and moving fashion, the majority of the soundtrack is largely unmemorable. This was a big surprise for me, as Tarantino usually has the best soundtracks of any filmmaker, period.

Though the film is decent, it lacks the emotional engagement and character development of Tarantino’s other films. I feel like Quentin could’ve illustrated a lot more in this three hour timeframe. Although I wanted it to be more than what it was, I still enjoyed this movie. It’s funny, clever, and well-shot, and the stein-clanking camaraderie of the film whets my appetite for the coming Oktoberfest. In conclusion, Basterds is far better than Jackie Brown… but it’s no Pulp Fiction.

Overall Grade: B+