Jumping on the "Inglorious" bandwagon
I'm beginning to feel a bit like a broken record. Since I saw "Inglourious Basterds" at the Glacier Cinemas, several folks have asked me what I thought. Instead of being a complete wiseass and saying something like, "Thursday's Empire!" I have actually attempted thought-out responses. Inevitably, though, when it comes to this particular Quentin Tarantino effort, I keep coming back to one underlying thought: "Basterds" makes 153 minutes go by really quickly.
It is not hard to make a two-and-a-half-hour movie seem like three or four hours. I would argue, actually, that the vast majority of movies these days that run more than two hours have absolutely no business being a second longer than the standard 90 minutes. I understand how it happens. Even with this 600 word column, I struggle at times to cut the fat away because, after all, it's my fat! I like it! A director probably has an even tougher time with that issue. "Get rid of the scene where nothing happens except for some inconsequential dialogue?! Never!"
Other than awful acting, an overly long running time is the fastest way to ruin the experience for moviegoers.
Let's face it: Tarantino will never be accused of low self-esteem. "Kill Bill" was so long they split it into two films. Yet, for as highly touted as he is, I'd bet 10-to -1 he loves himself more than anyone. Being the sometimes-contrarian that I am, I was prepared to jump off the Tarantino bandwagon.
Sadly, I'm still firmly planted on said bandwagon after "Basterds." Did I mention the movie makes 153 minutes seem brief?
Aside from that attribute, "Basterds" features all the best parts of a Tarantino film. The dialogue is clever, even in subtitles. The violence is graphic. The story structure is both interesting and playful. Oh, and pretty much everybody, regardless of "hero" or "villain" status, dies.
In fact, while it pains me to keep heaping the praise onto Tarantino, "Basterds" just as a concept is incredibly interesting. How would things be different, I wonder, if Tarantino's fantasy world had been real? The movie follows Lt. Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) and his band of merry Jewish-American soldiers that have been given a simple task: Covertly go into Nazi-occupied France and mercilessly kill (as in scalp) as many Nazis as possible. Raine is not himself Jewish, although as he tells his squad, he is a small percentage American Indian. How that is exactly relevant isn't all that clear, but that is just sort of how Raine rolls. He's smart, but his Tennessee accent makes him seem so relaxed it's easy to forget how brutal he and his men are. They genuinely enjoy their objective, and because it is Tarantino behind the camera you get to see in bloody detail everything they do. Eventually, and appropriately enough for Tarantino, the story culminates in a finale at a cinema in Paris. The scenario that presents itself for Raine and his crew makes "Valkyrie" look like small potatoes.
Other than Pitt, who seems to genuinely enjoy himself as Raine, there is another actor who is fantastic in "Basterds" and really helps make the whole thing click. Christoph Waltz plays the German Col. Hans Landa, and from start to finish his performance is the cream of an already impressive crop.
If you can stomach the violence that is standard for Tarantino, it's the fastest 153 minutes you'll spend at the movies. Call me a broken record, but to me that's the sincerest compliment I can pay a man who, I'm sure, loves to hear them.