Released August 20, 2009
So last Monday (August 3rd) I attended the Gala Premiere (TM) of Quentin Tarantino's Inglourious Basterds at the Sydney State Theatre. In attendance was one of his leading ladies, Diane Kruger, who looked pale and rakish in an arresting red dress, and Christoph Waltz, who plays the likable but very evil villain, Col. Hans Landa. The applause for Waltz was the weakest of the three, but I am sure things would have been different if he were introduced after the film; the attention directed towards his insidiously-hilarious performance across four languages is well deserved.
Film aside, what people had really come to see was a glimpse of geek-hero Tarantino himself. David Stratton introduced proceedings with a few anecdotal stories about QT, and is so much of a film nerd even made me feel a bit embarrassed at all the references he was making that 98% of the audience (me included) didn't understand. He then introduced the man himself, to the thunderous applause of the partisan crowd. His usual rambunctious self, Tarantino was regrettably brief as he introduced his actors and the film itself.
What strikes you most about Basterds is it is unmistakably a Tarantino film, a post-modern, anachronistic, violent, talky and beautifully directed revisionist history of World War 2. He makes you giddy at the possibilities of cinema and the great relish he clearly takes with the possibilities of every scene - it's the same feeling I felt while watching Kill Bill Vol 2. Admittedly, this feeling was amplified by sitting in a sympathetic crowd in a "fucking beautiful theatre", as Quentin put it, a crowd with great anticipation for the expected quirks, distinctive characters and amusing dialogue.
Told using his favourite narrative device of "Chapter" cards that come up at regular intervals Basterds tells parallel stories in a mostly linear fashion. The Basterds themselves are a group of Nazi-hating Jews lead by Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) and include Til Schweiger as Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz and Eli Roth as Sgt. Donny Donowitz - the infamous "Bear Jew", known throughout the Weremacht for brutally beating soldiers to death with a baseball bat. On a mission to instill fear within the German army by scalping and executing soldiers (all seen in graphic detail), Hitler (Martin Wuttke) is none to pleased with their war of intimidation. Concurrently, we follow the story of Shosanna Dreyfus (the excellent and very pretty Melaine Laurent), who's family was murdered on the orders of the "Jew Hunter" Col. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz). Attempting to keep a low profile, she now runs a cinema in Paris which has unexpectedly been chosen as the venue for the premiere of propaganda minister Joseph Goebbels' (Sylvester Groth) latest film "Nation's Pride", extolling the exploits of war hero Fredrick Zoeller played by Daniel Bruhl, who is now a celebrity and romantically interested in Shosanna.
If that seems like a lot of characters - and I haven't even mentioned Diana Kruger as actress and double-agent Bridget von Hammersmark or Mike Myers in a hammy cameo as a blimpish English officer- then that's because there is. An ensemble piece, the basterds themselves are merely supporting players. All of the subplots converge in an epic finale at the film premiere where much of the German high command - including Hitler, Goebbels, Goering and Bormann - are in attendance.
As always though with a Tarantino film, the plot is secondary to the dialogue and the characterization, though in Basterds it's almost to its detriment. It lacks the drive of Kill Bill, for instance, whose dialogue scenes were balanced by extended action. The action in Basterds, little though there is for World War 2 film, is sharp, chaotic and over in a moment. In its place are extended dialogue scenes which begin inauspiciously but continue with rising tension. The opening scene on a french farm, where Landa "interrogates" a farmer who may me hiding Jews, and a later scene in a basement bar - which lasts for almost 20 minutes - are genius constructions of dialogue, character and unpredictability.
I haven't even mentioned that more than half of the movie is subtitled - in German, French and even a little Italian, that Ennio Morricone graces much of the soundtrack together with anachronistic flashes of David Bowie (for instance) and that cinematography by Robert Richardson is stunning. The climax is also exhilaratingly excessive and was met with great applause from the audience mid-film.
After the misfire of Death Proof, Inglorious Basterds is a return to form for Tarantino, not as tight as Reservoir Dogs or Pulp Fiction, but with frequent moments of brilliance that allow you to share in his passion for cinema. I may not quite agree with Lt. Raine's assessment in the last line of the film, but it's damn-near close
