Inglourious Basterds

                I don’t know why the spelling. The subtitles, on the other hand, to translate the, variously, German, French, and Italian, are spelt impeccably. And there certainly are a lot of them, carefully translating, it would seem, the screeds of, we could easily believe, jaw-breaking dialogue that constantly threatens to overpower this film and, literally, the actors themselves. And so, to give one example, we have the banal discussion of a mexican standoff, reminiscent of the “Royale-with-Cheese” dialogue of Pulp Fiction. Not that there’s nothing else going on. There is. There are moments of real tension, for example, and intrigue, and, the overwriting aside, for which reason the action sometime drags, there are strong elements to the screenplay. The segment with some of the most left-field reimagining (the story as whole is based on a revisionist conception of events in WWII) is introduced by a great use of David Bowie’s Cat People (Putting out fire), and concludes with some seriously well-handled pyrotechnics.

                Something of a mixed bag, then. Perhaps conceived and released to coincide with the recent 70th anniversary of the beginning of WWII, there are certainly many moments of what we could suppose are cathartic for those who suffered at the hands of the Nazis. There’s also an interesting take on cinema, we all know Tarantino’s love of that subject, carried through in constant references to the propaganda movies of the time, and the cinema in which much of the action is set is decorated with apparently authentic movie posters, including one for The Assassin lives at Number 21, which is perhaps one of Tarantino’s favourites, and is roughly accurately placed, chronologically speaking.

                Tarantino’s movies are also known for their often graphical violence and their music, and both are present and correct here. Though set in the 1940s, it’s nice to see that modern music features. Not exclusively though, it can be said. In general, there is a strong reliance on music to enhance a mood and, in general, it’s an effective device. The “ear scene” in Reservoir Dogs quickly became infamous, and here again we have individuals making their mark with blades. The bodily harm suffered is gratifyingly sickening, and Tarantino will, thankfully, let some principals be killed, even audience favourites, so we’re kept on our toes by that fact, at least. “Once upon a time……in Nazi occupied France”, is the phrase that appears onscreen, prefacing the action, and instantly conveying a sense of Americana. This is the first and last use of economical text in this overlong, but ambitious, film.  

 

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