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)
Tarantino has the craft down pat. He's great at leading actors, he's got a sense of timing, and his dialogue scenes have more punch than all of Bay's action scenes with screaming robots put together, but I can't digest the story he presents with the best of wills. The first chapter is phenomenal. It has everything: a great build-up, a sultry atmosphere, the suspense of what will inevitably come at any second, and the perfect entry of an extremely charismatic asshole. But the rest of the film, in my eyes, teeters on a thin line between sparse admiration and feelings of awkwardness, between what I am still logically willing to accept and what I am no longer. Narrative excess is fine, but everything has its limits, Quentin.
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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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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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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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If Quentin's sex life resembles his films, then one sexual act equals two hours of loaded nonsense and macho poses, only for his member to helplessly deflate after a few seconds. I have already mentioned in Tarantino's case that his first three films impressed me, but then he and I stopped understanding each other. However, I do like war films, so Quentin could have hit the mark with me here. His strong points are creativity and knowledge of cinema, which few can boast of on a global scale. Unfortunately, I don't enjoy deciphering all the references to films that Tarantino has watched in his garage, and on the contrary, I often feel like kicking him for how shamelessly he treats his ideas. There are many potentially interesting characters, but they remain as flat as a sheet of paper and only serve as a starting point for a quip or a joke. The only well-developed character and at the same time the only (anti)hero deserving the label of a despicable scoundrel is Colonel Landa, played charmingly by Christoph Waltz. The war hero adorably portrayed by Daniel Brühl is also worth mentioning, where Tarantino's sense of irony is palpable. All the members of the Allied unit are mere pawns without potential. What hurts the most is that Tarantino fails as a storyteller. The film does not work as a cohesive genre piece; it is an unabashed pulp film with a series of functional and humorous individual scenes, where Tarantino's sense of working with genre clichés, which he systematically turns on their heads, shines through. However, as a whole, it is rough, also because the degree of exaggeration fluctuates, just like the film's placement among genres. I least mind the fact that Quentin mocks history. The first ten minutes are fantastic; the scene of the execution of refugees is chilling and stylish. If Tarantino had maintained that level, he would have earned a solid 5 stars from me. However, he immediately slips into excesses, and the style vanishes. Tarantino caters to many viewers who want to "switch off," but they are too educated and knowledgeable about the world of film to be satisfied with a B-movie action flick. Quentin accommodates them by serving a postmodern mishmash with a variety of effects and tricks. He has always been a supporter of the idea that films are here for entertainment. Those who seek a message can confidently turn to the postman. Overall impression considering Landa and the charms of both femme fatales: 60%. Unfortunately, I must state that considering the exclusive international brand that Tarantino represents in the world of film, he is very conformist and could have gotten more out of himself. Outside of Hollywood's rules, he only goes so far by cleverly and justifiably using four languages in situations where the American audience strictly expects entertainment in English.
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