Directed by:
Quentin TarantinoScreenplay:
Quentin TarantinoCinematography:
Robert RichardsonCast:
Brad Pitt, Mélanie Laurent, Christoph Waltz, Eli Roth, Michael Fassbender, Diane Kruger, Daniel Brühl, Til Schweiger, Gedeon Burkhard, Jacky Ido, B.J. Novak (more)VOD (3)
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As war rages in Europe, a Nazi-scalping squad of American soldiers, known to their enemy as "The Basterds," is on a daring mission to take down the leaders of the Third Reich. (official distributor synopsis)
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Reviews (17)
If it weren’t for the initial Leone-style chapter, I would have no objections. But that chapter is there. And its matchless genius sheds a big shadow over the rest of the movie that it doesn’t manage to escape (with the exception of the exquisite tension build-up in the bar). But even so... To satisfy everybody’s great expectations with a few guys in uniforms blabbing away about bullshit for two and a half hours in about seven different interiors deserves applause alone. Simply wunderbar! P.S.: And I want Tarantino to make a regular spaghetti western at last. He’s been heading toward that all his career, so why avoid the unavoidable? P.P.S.: Having watched the Basterds for a third time in just a couple of weeks, really enjoying myself each time, I realized that full stars is more suitable, and so I changed it. ♫ OST score: 5/5
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Surprisingly, Tarantino has fulfilled his promise and made a film that in his post-2000 filmography will have the same privileged status as Pulp Fiction had in the 1990s. You could praise pretty much everything about it, from the performances, through the script and the sharp dialogues, to some perfectly directed scenes (the beginning, the climax in the cinema, Shoshanna’s getting ready…). Inglourious Basterds is the best film I’ve seen in the cinema so far this year and I think District 9, Antichrist and Avatar are the only ones with chances to be better. PS: The last line of the film could have been said by Quentin himself.
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To have a two-and-a-half-hour Tarantino movie with only two characters portrayed in detail with a proper backstory (Christoph Waltz, Mélanie Laurent) while none of them belongs to the titular “Basterds” is unforgivable. The “Basterds” are there just to give the film some sort of a weak framework; their potential started in the trailer and ended in the cutting room. All of the other elements of this flick are, however, *Cinema Paradiso*.
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A film by a filmmaker who loves films. Tarantino's synthesis of B-movie aesthetics has (for now) reached its ultimate stage in the form of a war opus. There’s room for references, his own ego, and a final chapter of historical revisionism that, if it hadn't been making fun of the previous ones all along, would hardly have been understood. A pleasant surprise to my own expectations.
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After seeing Death Proof, I said to myself that Quentin should have a crack at the Basterds, but I really didn’t expect him to react to my words. But it was a good decision and I can just say: “I’m happy. Good old Quentin is back." The dialogs deserve a chapter to themselves. Tarantino really enjoys himself and the Germans turn into a band of blabbering catchphrase mongers. The same applies to Pitt’s Apache Aldo and to all of them, in fact (yes, Diane Kruger too). Til Schweiger plays the role of his life (I bet his character was originally written for Schwarzenegger). But it’s mainly Christoph Waltz who gives an acting recital, and he literally shines throughout the movie and I think an Oscar nomination is essential. Melanie Laurent absolutely buries Uma Thurman and Kill Bill. Her revenge is far more punch and emotions can be wrung out by the gallon. The climax of the movie is the first chapter which is a western set in World War Two. The atmosphere can be cut with a knife and the unknown actors are completely at one with their characters. And the music by Ennio Morricone sends chills down the spine and the story takes you off into movieland. Beautiful. P.S.: The trailer gives a false impression. It’s more or less only about chapter two. But the main story takes place in the other chapters. Unexpected. P.P.S.: And who didn’t notice that S. L. J. talks about how flammable celluloid is.
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