Inglourious Basterds

Editorial

By now, you'd think that we'd have become accustomed to Quentin Tarantino pulling the rug out from under our feet. After all, this is the man who made his name with a heist flick that didn't actually have a heist in it. Yet within the first five minutes of Inglourious Basterds, it's clear that he's done it again.

As the movie unfolds with a 20-minute conversation between a French farmer who may or may not be sheltering Jews, and Col. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz), a charming yet callous Nazi officer nicknamed ‘The Jew Hunter', it becomes quickly apparent that Tarantino's flipped a bloody middle finger at convention.

Yet that's Inglourious Basterds all over. As enjoyably idiosyncratic as the spelling of its title would suggest, it's a film that takes devilish delight in feinting left when it looks like it might go right.

His cast, from Brad Pitt down, responds in kind, whether they're handling the one-liners or speeches in English, French, German or even Italian. There are standouts, of course. Pitt, in a role that again defies expectations, is often hilarious. Michael Fassbender, stepping into the role of Hicox after Simon Pegg dropped out, seizes the opportunity gladly. But the film belongs to Waltz, who should be a shoo-in for a Best Supporting Actor nod at next year's Oscars.

The role of Landa was so tough to fill that Tarantino claims he'd have abandoned the production entirely had Christoph not Waltzed through his door. Not only is Landa multilingual, but he's an enormously complex creation, so much more than a typical movie Nazi. Inglourious Basterds does not be take the austere, reverent approach of a Schindler's List. Instead, this is a fairy tale, a ‘what if…?' story that takes place in a typically Tarantino ‘movie-movie' universe.