Sometimes when you watch movies, you want a fine cognac of a film, rich and supple with measured flavor. And sometimes, you just want a burly, stout ale and a couple of nuts to crack. No better director can be found for this type of film than Quentin Tarantino. He is by far the most unique mainstream director of our current era, and he always seems to turn out masterpieces one after the other. Inglourious Basterds is no exception, and it’s mostly thanks to the dynamite (heh) script and the film’s performances.
The one thing I can say most about Tarantino is that he loves to have fun while making his films, and it happily shows. The creativity with the camera and the script and the stellar editing are ever-present; I can only imagine what it must be like to be on a Tarantino film crew. The man’s skill at writing is on prominent display here, especially from the opening scene. His ability to make small talk with the characters and have it all relate to the backbone of the film’s skeleton is an envious skill indeed. The pacing I had a few issues with – Tarantino takes his sweet time with this one, putting the pieces together as slowly and methodically as he cares to; he’s probably the only director to get away with half the stuff he does, because he’s so good at what he does. This does work in favor, however, whenever Christoph Waltz is on the screen, and his impressive performance adds to the tension and anxiety that draws out masterfully in each scene he’s in. And of course, the whiz-bang ending, which delivers on all the film’s promises.
I personally liked Kill Bill a lot more than this one, and I think he’s done better work, but Inglourious Basterds is an excellently made film that manages to entertain through the running time. You really can’t go wrong with a little Tarantino once in a while, and there’s precious little of the man’s work to be had, so pour some stout ale and get ready for the grind once again.
Arbitrary Rating: 9/10