Review: Revenge of the 'erds (Inglourious Basterds)

"I don't think we really need another film about the Holocaust, do we? It's like, how many have there been? You know, we get it. It was grim, move on. No, I'm doing it because I've noticed that if you do a film about the Holocaust - guaranteed Oscar!"

-Kate Winslet as "herself" in "Extras"

In the four years since Kate Winslet uttered this deliciously ironic statement, Hollywood's apparent infatuation of the German Third Reich remains deeply entrenched. This obsession has given birth to titles like Valkyrie, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, Defiance, and Miracle at St. Anna to name a few from the past year. And of course, there is The Reader, the overvalued film that earned Ms. Winslet her first Academy Award. World War II and the Holocaust in particular were indeed dramatic historic, sociological, and psychological events, but they have exercised undue influence over cinema in recent years. What is it about the Nazis that captures the imagination of filmmakers, and thus, the American public?

Quentin Tarantino tackles this question head-on in the film Inglourious Basterds. As with most Tarantino films, the story involves the inevitable intersection of different characters. There are "The Basterds," a group of Jewish American soldiers roaming through the woods of Nazi-occupied France wreaking havoc on unsuspecting German soldiers. This group is led by Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt), a comically hyperbolic character who insists his men use Apache-style tactics against the enemy; he asserts, "We will be cruel to the Germans and through our cruelty they will know who we are." The Basterds goals become intertwined with those of Shosanna Dreyfus (Melanie Laurent), a French theater owner who is hellbent on getting revenge on the regime that murdered her entire family. She uses a chance encounter with Pvt. Fredrick Zoller (Daniel Bruhl), a German war hero and film star to plot her retaliation. Finally, there is the famous German actress Bridget von Hammersmark (Diane Kruger), who is actually a secret agent coordinating with the Basterds war effort.

These people (with the exception of Aldo Raine) are deeply complex and the methodical dialogue of the film masterfully unveils the motivations and drives of these characters. Tarantino has always prided himself a connoisseur of character discourse, and this film is no different (in four languages no less). It is refreshing to see a director with enough confidence in his craft (certainly not a problem for Tarantino) to keep an audience's attention without having to frenetically cut to other scenes and characters. The scene with Hammersmark in the bar is one of longest scenes I can recall from any recent film viewing. And yet, because of the smart dialogue and slow revolving camera movements, the suspence builds gradually for a very rewarding payoff.

Despite the intriguing storylines and dialogues of these characters, the highlight of the film is the acting of Christoph Waltz. He plays relentless detective Hans Landa, whose brutal reputation earned him the nickname "The Jew Hunter." Waltz is a deeply unsettling presence whenever he is on screen, though his demeanor is always affable on the surface; who knew that drinking milk or eating a pastry could be so upsetting? The performance reminded me of Javier Bardem's portrayal of Anton Chigurh in No Country For Old Men. I felt a pit in my stomach every time these characters entered a scene. And yet, like watching an impending car crash, I couldn't look away. Waltz is one Nazi truly deserving of an Oscar bid.

There are so many layers of Inglourious Basterds that are worthy of discussion. As with all Tarantino films, the film plays out as an ode to cinema history. The essential storyline pays homage to The Dirty Dozen, but Tarantino is also willing to explore the influence of Joseph Goebbels, the chief propoganda officer for Hitler's regime. The fact that the ultimate climax of the film takes place in a theater shows the importance of film history on Tarantino's mindset. In watching the final bloody scenes unfold, I could not help feeling that Tarantino was reacting to (not necessarily against) the flood of recent Hollywood Nazi features. In doing so, he is able to bring the genre of "The Nazi film" to an absurdist "final solution" of its own.

Wait a minute. Doesn't Tarantino's revenge fantasy pull on the exact same heartstrings as other Holocaust films that you have implicitly criticized in this review? Absolutely. The difference is that Tarantino's outlandishness exposes our underlying desire to see Hitler's forces annihilated. Inglourious Basterds is a film that underscores our collective fetishes as a society. Notice the voyeuristic camerawork as Shosanna prepares for film gala. He treats this sex symbol with the same attention that he uses for the scalping of Nazi soldiers. In this way, Tarantino is making light of our unconscious drives, just as he does with the characters in his story, in a self-aware manner. In other words, Tarantino makes his emotional appeals with a wink and a nod, allowing his work to transcend others in the genre.

Some may have a difficult time separating Tarantino the director from Tarantino the ego. Few directors would have the audacity to speak through a character to declare that "this might just be my masterpiece." Few directors would need to show off their acute knowledge of German film history and familiarity of European languages and culture. And yet, few directors have the capacity to actually pull it off. History will show that this is not Quentin Tarantino's ultimate masterpiece, but it is damn close.

Inglourious Basterds: 4.5/5