Slashing The Seats

There’s been a fair bit of talk around the STS office bemoaning the demise of the traditional war movie – so it was with baited breath that we took our seats for what was originally touted as an all-action knucklefest a la Where Eagles Dare. What we got was something quite different, but none the worse for it.

It’s 1944 and occupied France is the setting as Brad Pitt and a crack team of Jewish soldiers embark on a mission to wipe out Nazi high command – at a film premiere. A mission complicated by the cinema owner, a Jewish survivor who is out for revenge.

Tarantino will always be known for dialogue, but even for him it’s a brave move to open a post Saving Private Ryan WWII film with a long, rambling conversation without a whizzing bullet to be seen. In the scene, callous Nazi Col. Landa toys with a squirming French Farmer accused of harbouring Jewish escapees and this lengthy character introduction is typical throughout, wrong-footing your expectations as seemingly major players arrive, only to be killed moments later. Even the eponymous Basterds only make fleeting appearances and money maker Brad Pitt has less screen time than many supporting characters. While the lengthy chat segments sometimes slow the pace down to a commando crawl, it’s always involving and ultimately adds to the precision plotting.

The acting on display is often striking, Pitt works hard, his words rumbling through an almost incomprehensible southern accent, while speeches are delivered in English and German with aplomb. Again, dialogue is king and it’s a pleasure to watch. One scene in particular sees allied troops sweating as they try to outfox ruthless SS man August Dehl. Michael Fassbinder’s Brit Officer shines in particular with a roguish charm seemingly channeled from 40s Hollywood. The implied threats and bargains are wonderful, ratcheting up the tension, every sentence uttered with conviction and demanding analysis.

Despite this, the movie is also very funny. Screwball laughs emerge from the almost constant yakking. Again, Christophe Waltz as Landa is a standout here, his character cruel and complicated but tempered with just the right amount of camp. He is both effeminate and threatening, conveying keenness of mind and deadly singularity of purpose beneath a raffish, socially aware exterior. Between them, he and Pitt carry the movie. Their performances are engaging and knowing, but resolutely grounded in the peculiar reality of the movie.

That construction is highlighted too. The whole shebang kicks off with the self-aware caption ‘once upon a time… In Nazi occupied France…’ History provides the stage, but is kept well out of the way as the tale unfolds. Tarantino’s obsession with movies is apparent from the get-go, whilst the ending is a typical, over-the-top, only-in-the-movies piece that riffs on Spaghetti westerns. Whilst this fast and loose attitude to our finest hour could cause offense if taken seriously, overall it’s a fun return to the days when war films were two-fisted boy’s own tales, where there was never a doubt that the bad guys would get what was coming to them eventually.

Of course, this being Tarantino, it’s not actually about the war at all. It’s about other movies. With a soundtrack and shot-list cobbled together lovingly from other films, the core of the script revolves around a film critic and a cinema owner – ultimately the only two characters with the ability to face down evil and combat Nazi propaganda. Another love letter to cinema, sometimes deliberately contrived but none the worse for it, Inglourious Basterds sees Tarantino back on fantastic and fun form.

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