Inglourious Basterds. Quentin Tarantino. Blood, blood, blood!
We accidentally got tickets to the first preview at the Cameo on the weekend (I thought it was already on general release — which shows you how much attention I pay to entertainment news). It was a mistake because I wasn’t interested in sharing the experience with a bunch of Tarantino fans, but c’est la vie.
It was a pretty funny ride, with Brad Pitt doing a good job as Lieutenant Aldo Raine (how actors manage to contort their jaws into funny positions and hold them for a long time is really beyond me). For some reason I was pretty taken with Michael Fassbender, who played the sole Brit who (briefly) joined the Basterds. Turns out he was in Band of Brothers, which may explain it — I’ve got a soft spot for the actors who were in that most excellent series.
I was expecting blood and gore, and the film didn’t disappoint. For some reason, though, I kept forgetting it was a Tarantino flick — some bits just didn’t seem to scream ‘Tarantino’ to me, and I think that’s good. There was something about the treatment / portrayal of Shosanna Dreyfus that seemed more sensitive and less ‘impossibly cool’ than I’ve come to expect of anything by Tarantino (despite my ‘meh’ feelings about him as a director, I have seen quite a few of his films, and they’ve either met my expectations or I’ve been underwhelmed).
So. Inglourious Basterds. Funny. Outrageous. If you’re the type who likes your revenge cold, you’ll love it.
Related:
- A graphic novel version of one very bloody scene in the film. Do not click if 1) You don't want to visit Playboy.com, and 2) You hate spoilers.
