By far the most enjoyable thing about "Inglourious Basterds" (sic, sic) are the performances by the cast of outstanding European actors. These Europeans really know their stuff. In fact, this film's real stars are the Europeans, especially Christoph Waltz from Austria and Melanie Laurent from France. Their performances are wonderful. As for top-billed Brad Pitt, he has only a supporting role as Tarantino's 21st Century stand-in for Lee Marvin. Pitt may be the star on the marquis, but he's far from being the star of this film.
Some reviewers here seem to think the movie is anti-German. I can't imagine how they can possibly think that. Perhaps the bravest man in the whole film is a captured German soldier who courageously chooses death before dishonor. Sure, there are the usual Teutonic sadists and pigs, but on the level of plain soldiers, both sides seem to be more or less equal in executing their inglorious duties. In fact, in their manner of carrying out their parts in total war, the Americans and British in this film don't seem much of a step up from their German enemies. Indeed, these irregulars of the OSS and SOE employ many of the same methods used by their Nazi opponents: torture, threats of retaliation against families, etc. Is it possible for a particular group of sadists to claim the high moral ground?
Despite the excellent acting, and superb photography and costuming, this film eventually disappoints. The last 1/4 of the film descends into the realm of pure nonsense, fantasy and ludicrous, contrived situations: a country bumpkin milkmaid becomes a cinema owner; dozens of the Reich's highest ranking officials and officers gather in a hostile city with barely a guard in sight. That's so ludicrous that anyone from the Secret Service watching this film would have tears of laughter rolling down his or her cheeks. Just like a person who always gives a screw one too many turns and breaks something, director Tarantino just doesn't know how to leave well enough alone or quit when he is ahead. Like a child, he insists on demonstrating how much he knows (or thinks he knows) about movies and their history, and so he winds up damaging his own movie.
With his in-jokes and his sly aural and visual references to other films and their makers Tarantino wants to impress us, but he really only manages to foul his own work. I know who Aldo Ray was; I've seen him and the late, great Lee Marvin. Is Tarantino trying to impress me with the fact that he knows them, too?
The very talented Tarantino should spend less time being referential and reverential, and more time mastering his movie-making skills.
Some reviewers here seem to think the movie is anti-German. I can't imagine how they can possibly think that. Perhaps the bravest man in the whole film is a captured German soldier who courageously chooses death before dishonor. Sure, there are the usual Teutonic sadists and pigs, but on the level of plain soldiers, both sides seem to be more or less equal in executing their inglorious duties. In fact, in their manner of carrying out their parts in total war, the Americans and British in this film don't seem much of a step up from their German enemies. Indeed, these irregulars of the OSS and SOE employ many of the same methods used by their Nazi opponents: torture, threats of retaliation against families, etc. Is it possible for a particular group of sadists to claim the high moral ground?
Despite the excellent acting, and superb photography and costuming, this film eventually disappoints. The last 1/4 of the film descends into the realm of pure nonsense, fantasy and ludicrous, contrived situations: a country bumpkin milkmaid becomes a cinema owner; dozens of the Reich's highest ranking officials and officers gather in a hostile city with barely a guard in sight. That's so ludicrous that anyone from the Secret Service watching this film would have tears of laughter rolling down his or her cheeks. Just like a person who always gives a screw one too many turns and breaks something, director Tarantino just doesn't know how to leave well enough alone or quit when he is ahead. Like a child, he insists on demonstrating how much he knows (or thinks he knows) about movies and their history, and so he winds up damaging his own movie.
With his in-jokes and his sly aural and visual references to other films and their makers Tarantino wants to impress us, but he really only manages to foul his own work. I know who Aldo Ray was; I've seen him and the late, great Lee Marvin. Is Tarantino trying to impress me with the fact that he knows them, too?
The very talented Tarantino should spend less time being referential and reverential, and more time mastering his movie-making skills.