Inglourious Basterds, repost.

O Quentin, My Quentin: Inglourious Basterds, 2009, directed by Quentin Tarantino.


"In Nazi-occupied France during World War II, a group of Jewish-American soldiers known as "The Basterds" are chosen specifically to spread fear throughout the Third Reich by scalping and brutally killing Nazis." (IMDB)

This is not Tarantino's finest film. Diane Kruger, blah, Eli Roth, NO (I actually wish he would have been a little calmer) and the scene in the basement pub was ages longer than it should have been, but other than that? Still very enjoyable. Brad Pitt is an excellent buffoon. I loved Melanie Laurent as Shosanna (in fact, would I be in the market for any more children down the road, which I'm not, the name would be Emmanuel (le) were it a boy or girl, after Shosanna's vengeful alter-ego). Music, killer, as always. Good use of the John Ford doorway at Lapadite's place ala John Wayne in The Searchers, ala David Carradine in Kill Bill, or any other outsider who is not *supposed* to come inside. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz) however, does come inside.

Oui, Shosanna!

Was there ever anyone so slippery? Or cunning? Every scene he was in gave me goosebumps. It was hard to know how to feel about him, obviously he's evil, but he's brilliant and sneaky too. And as it turns out, not above getting caught in his own web of lies. First he loves his nickname, then he hates his nickname? "You don't know why you hate the rat, you just do," (vermin as some sort of obvious metaphor for the Jewish people, yet, this great Jew-hunter is unable to identify someone he shot at as she sits inches from him?) This fascination I had with him quickly turned to disgust once he started chawin' that damned Apfelstrudel; chewing noises are where I draw the line. Nonetheless, best supporting actor in 2009, I think it was right on the mark.

The greater theme here, as always, is DON'T FUCK WITH ME. This is why I love, love, love Quentin Tarantino. I think he must dig his mother a lot, because he writes such amazing stories and illustrates such powerful scenes of women's struggles, while not taking anything away from the men. After all the talk recently about Dragon Tattoo, rapes, murders, sociopathy, and what not, I think it's reasonable to bring up the fact that yes, these characters are by all definitions violent, vengeful, and well, not right in the head. . . HOWEVER. These are films, stories, fiction. Does anyone really want to watch a film or read a book about someone that follows all the rules? If you try to see Tarantino's films as having any firm basis in reality, you're barking up the wrong tree (clearly this particular tree is one of my personal favorites). And without turning this into too much of a girls vs. boys bunch of blathering, who was it that got the job done in the end? Was it Hans Landa? No. Aldo Rain and the Basterds? In a small way, I suppose, but not really. It was SHOSHANNA, baby, with a bang.