Inglorious Basterds: An Apt Title

Yes, they were bastards. And no, they were not glorious.

Yet somehow I was surprised by the complete lack of Basterds in this film. I knew they were Inglorious. I knew it was Tarantino. But somehow I was convinced that there would be a lot more from the characters.

I guess I'm finally realizing that Quentin Tarantino is a party platter. He's the variety pack; the summer sampler. His films are simultaneously extended movie trailers and at the same time the antithesis of movie trailers. You get a lot of little bits that make you want more, but it's all stitched together with prolonged dialogue.

That being said, it is a film that's worth taking another look at. Another five looks at, even. Pulp Fiction left us wanting more Jules Winnfeild, more Vincent Vega, more Butch Coolidge, but we satiated that need through repeated viewings. We grew to appreciate these characters based solely on what was given us and we learned that more is not necessarily better. (see Death Proof and the same fucking actors playing the same fucking parts just with different fucking names so they could kill them all a-fucking-gain!) With more Butch comes the cost of less Vince. More Vince means less Jules. More Jules, less Butch. It's a vicious cycle, but somehow we get The Wolf and Macelus Wallace rolled in there too (Uma Thermon does nothing for me) while maintaining a balanced film that gets across the point that life is all sorts of fucked up.

Fast forward to the Basterds. Could we have had fewer extreme closeups for no reason? Yes. Could we have had more Basterds? Possibly. Could we have had less of everyone else? Well, that's up for debate. The opening scene takes for-goddamn-ever, and the first time, as Tarantino ironically enough explains to us in the lengthy beginning of Resvoir Dogs, hurts, like a virgin. But after that, you begin to warm up to it. You see where things are going and the anticipation for what you know is going to happen is what keeps you excited. Before you know what's going to happen, you have boredom and confusion. Some people like to figure movies out, like a crossword puzzle, where the more you pick up on, the closer you are to knowing how it all turns out in the end. Tarantino films are like solving someone else's crossword puzzle... from another table... while you're having coffee with someone. You really have to work to know what's going on. But after you know where everything goes, like say watching someone complete yesterday's crossword puzzle, you being to see the amusement in watching the traps and folleys and struggles of the crossword puzzler. After knowing understanding why Tarantino does the things he does, the film becomes much more interesting to watch.

Would I pay another $12.50 to see this movie again? Well, I didn't pay for it tonight, but the point is I wouldn't pay by the viewing anymore. Maybe when it's in the 2 for 20 bin at HMV I'll pick it up and have another look. I might just grow to like those Basterds a lot more.