Friday, September 11, 2009

What A Bas-turd!

I was asked to defend my listing of Inglourious Basterds as one of the crappiest movies of summer (see Useless List side-bar), so off we go. So you understand where I'm coming from and don't think this is purile Quentin bashing, you need to understand a few things about my personal film philosophy. Film is primarily a visual medium, one that immerses an audience in a story they experience in a very visceral way. It's a manufactured reality wherein, if it's manufactured correctly, you are unaware you're experiencing something manufactured. In other words, you get lost in the experience of the story. Thus, anything that takes you out of that experience is a flaw.

How can you tell when you've been taken out of that experience? When you find yourself wondering things like, "I wonder how hard it was for Brad Pitt to keep his jaw jutted and talk like he had a can of beans up his ass?" At that point, you're one step away form making mental grocery lists and the film has lost you.

The causes of this wandering of attention are legion in this film, and across Tarantino's films in general. The main flaw for me is the incessant, pointless dialog. Many people who love his films, love this inane chatter, but dialog is the purview of the theater, where, because of physical limitations, life must be lived out loud. When this much dialog is jammed into a film it feels fake and stagey. And when it comes right down to it, when the characters are prattling on, they aren't that interesting. If they're not interesting, I don't care about them; if I don't care about them, I'm wondering about Brad's jaw again.

I could discuss the disturbing identification with the Nazis or the palpable hatred of women that runs throughout the film, but I don't want to sound like a politically correct turd, so I'll pass over that.

Let's just move on to the real reason this film was at the top of my crap list for the summer: it was boring. QT ratchets up the tension to the breaking point in individual segments, then just lets the moment pass on by, like you're watching an old friend depart. Long after you've stopped caring, THEN the big bang will come along, more often than not in a flurry of incomprehensible action. That's most noticeable in the underground bar scene, for which the ending was telegraphed a good 20 minutes (felt like 2 hours) before you get to it.

In the end, this film isn't about Nazis or Jews or WWII or even Brad's jutter, it's about films. That's infuriating. There are references from Once Upon a Time in the West to Cinderella, with the Marx brothers and Dirty Dozen thrown in for good measure. It's like the film was assembled by the ultimate idiot savant fanboy with turrets. It's a kind of filmmaking that draws attention to itself at every turn, pulling you out of the story. You always suspect QT is lurking behind you, winking, "did you fucking see that, pretty fucking cool, huh," with every celluloid reference to better, more original films.

Tarantino continues unabated his post-modern scrapbooks masquerading as original films, and based on box-office, he's going to make more, so I'm going to stick out my jaw and look for a can of beans. Maybe it'll make the next film more interesting.

5 comments:

  1. Don't forget about the pandering! The movie talked down to the audience whenever it could! I mean the ending? Come on now-- QT gives the audience what they want, even it means basically telling a flat out lie.

    When I first saw the movie I thought it was kinda cool, but in the past week or two, I just realized that it pandered to what I wanted completely, and thinking about it from that light, it really kinda sucked.

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  2. I once heard a critic refer to QT as "a film maker with enormous talent and potential, but absolutely no taste."
    I think he's sort of a cinema idiot savant: amazing eye for composition and visual effect, but the higher governing functions of the frontal lobe are missing.

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  3. My take, for what it's worth:
    http://farcefilm.blogspot.com/2009/09/inglourious-basterds-review.html

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  4. Egh. I'm not really a QT fan, but I enjoyed the film. I'll forget it by next summer, but it didn't make me regret the $9 I spent to see it... as opposed to say, District 9 or Terminator Salvation (well, that one was free...)

    And I even went home and made a blackberry and peach crisp because that strudel looked so fucking good. So there ya go. QT. Inspiring the creation of baked goods. :D

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  5. Thanks for the feedback. Name the time and place so I can practice making my arm muscle exist.

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