Though this be madness, yet there is method

26Aug09

A word to the wise: you need to know what you’re getting yourself into with a Tarantino flick.

Most newcomers start off as innocent viewers so every introduction to Tarantino will be brutal and uncomfortable. And once the sensory assault is over, a determination is made whether to steer clear of or enthusiastically welcome his cinematic creations.

I prefer the latter.

Reservoir Dogs was the movie that made me a fan and the one that continues to stand out as my favorite. It was no-holds-barred, in your face, and delightfully provocative. I was disturbed by the malicious amusement of the characters, and later amused by the disturbing characters.

Much the same could be said of his newest effort, Inglourious Basterds. Even though you want to hate the wicked individuals in the film, you can’t help but become intrigued by them. Tarantino crafts his protagonists and antagonists with equal dollops of strengths and foibles. He provides them with a sense of purpose, whether you agree with them or not.

Brad Pitt’s Lt. Aldo Raine is equally as droll and absurd as Christopher Waltz’s Col Landa. Yet one is a raucous American Nazi killer and the other a contemptible Nazi.

Inglourious Basterd second from bottom right

Inglourious Basterds is Tarantino’s fictionalized depiction of the final years of the Third Reich. It offers an alternate ending that hinges on crazed Nazi hunters, a movie theater and reels of film. Yes, film – an expedient that only Tarantino could have imagined.

Blood and violence aside, the most arresting aspect of the film is the dialogue-driven plotline. Simple chinwag. This is one of the charms of a Tarantino movie. Insights are unraveled during protracted chat sessions, and logic floods our cerebral cortex, providing a nice balance to the violent imagery.

I want to hate these despicable characters but I can’t help but think, Damn. That son of a bitch has a point.

…

Tarantino was recently interviewed by NPR about his infamous dialogue practice:

There have been certain contrivances, especially when it comes to language, where people are supposed to be speaking German, but they’re speaking English and I just think that’s a contrivance we’ve put up with for too long. I think that day is over. When movies take place in Nazi Germany and they’re all speaking in English, in particular almost Shakespearean English, you’d think the Third Reich started at the Old Vic.

Frightening Col Landa conversing

Roughly half of the film is in another language: German, Italian, or French. Since most of the viewing public seems to be averse to dealing with subtitles, I applaud Tarantino for the bold move.

And I’ve wondered about those “contrivances” for a long time myself.

For example, from the moment I heard about the Che movie, I prayed to the movie gods that it would be in Spanish. I hardly think Che Guevara and Fidel Castro would run around the Sierra Madre mountains speaking in yanqui English. Thankfully, Soderburgh came through. I hope other directors follow suit. How ridiculously lazy not to.

An aptly-used knife

As expected with any Tarantino film, the dark humor partners with his entertaining imagination to present a twisted saga of wishful thinking. The events smack of improbability but it’s nice to take a historical indulgence. Without giving too much away, Pitt’s prowess with the knife was particularly gratifying.

Like Tarantino himself, you might hate Inglourious Basterds or you might love it, but it would take a huge effort not to be fascinated by the madness.

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Tags: Brad Pitt, Christopher Waltz, cinema, film, Inglourious Basterds, Inspiration, Misc., movie review, movies, Musings, NPR, Quentin Tarantino, Random, Reservoir Dogs, Tarantino madness, Writing