Inglorious Basterds

He has stated recently during promotional interviews for the film that he doesn’t like to use composers for his films because he likes to control the filmmaking process as much as possible and I think herein lies one of many problems with the film, whilst the music used in Inglourious Basterds is excellent and used effectively it is still not original and it demonstrates some of the director’s ignorance of a supposed collaborative process and his burgeoning ego. And it is why I attribute the film’s flaws to him.

Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) rounds up fellow soldiers whose mission is to hunt down and scalp as many Nazis as they can find. Col. Hans Landa (Christolph Waltz) known as the ‘Jew Hunter’ is seen in the film’s opening sequence taking great pleasure in finding Jews that are hiding out in a friend’s cabin. One escapes from being killed by Landa, Shosanna Dreyfus (Melanie Laurent) who grows up to be the owner of a cinema in France, which will end up hosting a Nazi produced film starring Nazi-cum-film star Pvt. Frederick Zoller (Daniel Bruhl). The premiere spectacle attracts key figures of the Third Reich including the Fuhrer himself. Shosanna aims to take revenge on the Nazis by sabotaging the screening and it just so happens the Basterds are in town too.

It’s nice to see the director moving off the homage to ‘insert genre here’ that he has been doing since Jackie Brown. Yet his directorial flourishes here are less inspired; the lack of focus on the Basterds is interesting but a dead end; the misspelt title remains pointlessly idiosyncratic; and we get more foot fetishism this time, however, whilst his subject is being strangled.

Time and again Tarantino compromises his abilities as a director. After the failure of Death Proof he seemed intent on making a success, my suspicions are a financial one more than a critical one and when watching you can see how. The casting of A-list star Brad Pitt as Lt. Aldo Raine spearheaded the film but he is hardly a star presence and seems to be a tool used to bring the crowds in (it was the director’s highest grossing film yet). This is a fine example of the director becoming a far less interesting presence because he is far more interested in making a financial success rather than taking big risk by casting faded actors. Other contentious casting choices include director pal Eli Roth as Sgt. Donny ‘The Bear’ Donowitz, still, it mercifully spares of us of Tarantino’s presence in front of the camera. Otherwise the casting remains inspired: Michael Fassbinder who plays Brit Lt. Archie Hicox further proves his chameleon qualities and his ability to create such an impression on a film so unconcerned by his presence.

Christolph Waltz was such a revelation that even the Cannes crowd bestowed him with the best actor award at this year’s festival yet even here Tarantino seems to retain an unhealthy interest in his nastiest creation and one might find that disconcerting not to mention the rough treatment of POWs (both allies and axes) in the film. The film’s advocates could make claims that such unease at the violence is of course the whole point for it undermines our simultaneous gratification in Ally retribution and our recoil at Nazi retribution but I just don’t have faith in the director’s preoccupations for playing tricks on the audience any more.

Tarantino’s writing has returned to form with wonderfully tangential dialogue as opposed to the somnambulant ramblings of Death Proof. It is still self indulgent to the point where you can visualise Tarantino imagining himself acting out all the roles as he scribbles their lines on his script. It seems more impressive when considering the narrative structure, as each chapter contains tense dialogue driven set pieces that recall some of Pulp Fiction's best scenes however string them all together and the problems show. Tarantino hasn’t the reserve to indulge in what he is good at and instead unleashes on us several outbursts of ultra violence that create a quick paradigm in the film that simultaneously manages to represent his entire career of his unwillingness to reign in on his indulgent outbursts. The director seems far more preoccupied in tailoring the film to his fans which appear to be adolescent males who crave ultra violence and movie geek references which are far more noticeable in this film and make it his most self indulgent film yet.

The most grabbing and perhaps most controversial thing about the film is its interpretation of historical events. Uber arrogant Nazis, retribution for the Jews, misspelt titles and all, this is history as Mr. Tarantino would have it and how fitting is it that by destroying the truth in the history of modern conflict he remains faithful to the history of the medium, acknowledging giants of the era such as Leni Riefenstahl.

I still long for a film whereby a character’s demise is not a comic footnote but tragic and serious, it would mean Tarantino had more faith in his characters and I can have more faith in him as an adult. The audacity of the film is very entertaining and there are absurd moments of comedy but the film still needed more focus and more footage to be left on the cutting room floor.

It’s a step forward in the right direction but that would be a baby step rather than a goose step. ‘This may just be my masterpiece’ is the final line in the film and there you have it: self indulgence at its inglorious finest.