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Compared to many of his industry peers, Quentin Tarantino has long occupied a wholly unique, if somewhat contradictory position within the larger Hollywood machine.
Forever the champion of the independent filmmaker while, at the same time, having been operating with the full backing of the studio system for almost three decades, as he crafts event movies like few others can.
And sure, when choosing to view his catalogue and the writer-director himself through a more critical lens?1
As the man himself has acknowledged, he is deeply indebted to the filmmaking styles and attitudes of decades past, a once-you-see-it pastiche-framework that supports a great deal (if not all, to a certain extent) of his films. But repurposing broader influences, regardless of the medium, will only carry so much weight. It is within the individual’s own creative execution that will ultimately ensure success.
And this is perhaps no more true than with Inglourious Basterds, Tarantino’s 2009 Spaghetti Western-tinged, Second World War film, which released fifteen years ago this month.
It represents, even now, a filmmaker who was operating at the peak of his ability. An impulse-driven ambition, smartly counterbalanced by his collaborators both behind the camera and in front of it.
And while Basterds is, in many respects, a world removed from his prior projects, it is still very much Tarantino-esque, albeit restrained, ever so slightly. Forthright but never dishonest, it is, from the opening title card to the very end, wholly confident in its approach, highlighted by an ever-present artistic expression that few films can match.
Inherently a gamble, given the period and real-world history it is (heavily) fictionalizing.
From the purposely misspelled title (itself, a tribute of sorts to the 1978 Italian film, The Inglorious Bastards) to the hyper-stylized, yet still believably grounded deception of Nazi-occupied France. The rich dialogue, a touch verbose but never overbearing, brought to life in three different languages (with a dash of a fourth, Italian), by performers who feel perfectly suited in their roles.
But as is usually the case with most of Tarantino’s work, the discourse surrounding the movie remains as strong, if not stronger, than the actual product itself.
In the fifteen years since, Tarantino has released three succeeding projects but among them, it could be argued, Basterds occupies a different tier.
His best, even up against his early-career triumphs?
Well reader, let us discuss.
Though presented in chronological order, save for the occasional flashback sequence, Basterds alternates between two major storylines, while being supported by an interwoven third:
After her family is murdered by the Nazis, young Shosanna Dreyfus (Mélanie Laurent) escapes to Paris. Years later, living under an assumed name, she operates a movie theatre, while trying to keep a low profile. But after a chance encounter with Nazi war hero Frederick Zoller (Daniel Brühl), who is the lead in the regime’s latest propaganda film, she begins plotting her revenge. When the Germans screen Nation’s Pride at her theatre? It will be the last thing they ever do.
Meanwhile, across occupied-France, the Germans are under siege. Led by Lieutenant Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt) are a government-sanctioned, primarily Jewish-American guerrilla-unit calling themselves “The Basterds”. They have only one goal: killing Nazis.
When word reaches the Bastards, however, of the upcoming movie premiere, to be attended by various high-ranking Nazi officials, including Hitler (Martin Wuttke) himself? They recruit English film-critic-turned-commando Archie Hicox (Michael Fassbender) and German movie star/double-agent Bridget Von Hammersmark (Diane Kruger) to assist them in the joint Allied effort dubbed “Operation Kino”.
All the while, nobody can escape the wrath of Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz) the cunning SS officer, whose ruthlessness has earned him the dark sobriquet of “The Jew Hunter”, a title he (initially) embraces with pride. But as the Basterds advance and the Nazis move ever closer to their inevitable defeat, just where do Landa’s loyalties truly lie?
At a glance, yes, it is a series of complex spinning plates, with each storyline having enough weight to support its own movie.
Famously, it took Tarantino over a decade to write the film, as he worked to put all those pieces together effectively (he completed both Kill Bill films and Death Proof in the interim). The casting for Landa was particularly challenging: the role was considered nigh “unplayable”, with production nearly called off, until Waltz landed the part.
Sometimes though, letting a project simmer, so to speak, can make a world of difference and in this case the results are apparent.
Maybe it is through all the smaller flourishes: the meticulously realized set design and period-appropriate details in the costuming. The quirks found in the larger presentation, like the inconsistent subtitles, forcing the viewer to, hear the music on their own, as it were and fill in the necessary, as-needed blanks.
There is Robert Richardson’s cinematography, presenting a world that is both visceral and shockingly present, while at the same time (by design no doubt) appearing as though it has been ripped straight from the pages of a pulp novel.
Or perhaps it is the editing work of the late Sally Menke, the long-time Tarantino collaborator, for which Basterds was her final film. Menke, a master at turning suspected unease into unavoidable tension, through the as-expected pairings of tightly-scripted dialogue and heightened violence.
But through this, almost in defiance of the director’s trademark idiosyncratic world-building, are legitimate stakes, an authenticity of sorts that fights to be recognized. Basterds, resonating on a far deeper level when compared to say, Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction (1994) or even a later project like The Hateful Eight (2015).
By way of being a period piece and therefore, entirely stripped of his usual pop-culture-driven distractions, outsized juvenility or the crux of novelty. Tarantino must instead rely on his storytelling intuition (which, as a baseline, is typically excellent) and his cast to bring his story of historical revenge to life.
At the centre of it all, of course, is Waltz, in his career-defining role (the first of two Oscars he would win, so far, for a Tarantino movie). Both the overarching antagonist but also, in a way, the connective tissue holding the entire film together (as Landa is the only character to directly interact with each Allied group).
He is exceedingly polite and respectful, charming, when the situation requires, even when speaking to those below his (apparent) station. But the brilliance of Waltz’s portrayal? It lays in the few moments we see the mask slip. When the light disappears from behind his eyes, when we’re given a glimpse into who this character truly is: a sociopathic opportunist, whose only real allegiance is not to the failing Nazi cause but rather, himself.
Landa, a man who eagerly plays into a well-earned reputation for pure evil, only until it no longer suits him. He believes himself to be infallible, above the weak moral code of those for whom he has spent a lifetime pursuing, yet expecting them, paradoxically, to show him that kindness in return.
It remains an all-time villain performance and not just for the moment of ultimate comeuppance that concludes the character’s arc but for how it supports the overall framework of the movie, as well.
Each moment, each character, building upon the next:
As Shosanna, Mélanie Laurent is fantastic, in an emotionally dense portrayal that is one of the movie’s best. She is woman deeply traumatized by the murder of her family, driven to get revenge against the Nazi menace even at the cost of her life. But as her relationships with both Marcel (Jacky Ido) and Zoller (somewhat) show, she hasn’t completely lost her humanity either. It is a delicate balance but one Laurent plays with ease.
In any other movie? Fassbender and Kruger would probably be the leads. The smooth-talking Englishman and the double-agent, risking her life deep behind enemy lines, in an espionage thriller for the ages? C’mon, it is almost writes itself. But therein lies what makes their characters as engaging as they are tragic. Supported by the initial viewer exception that they’ll play bigger roles, they deliver portrayals that are totally lived-in and in Fassbender’s case specifically, despite limited screen time.
Brad Pitt’s Aldo? He is a man who is totally in his element when he is out in the field with his soldiers but is absolutely, to comedic effect, throughly out of it when doing literally anything else. But it is believable, in the way that life can often take unexpected turns. A former bootlegger, with questionable ancestry, trained to be a remorseless killing machine and set upon the greatest evil the world has ever known. He makes no apologies and asks fewer questions but exudes the energy of a natural leader. Pitt would later win an Oscar for his work in Tarantino’s 2019 film, Once Upon A Time… in Hollywood but it is here that he truly began to showcase a deeper versatility, to great effect.
Now, is Basterds perfect, beyond reproach or criticism? Of course not.
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The over-stylized Spaghetti Western interludes, while working artistically, can occasionally feel out of the place thematically, while the pacing and character work, by way of the kinda-sorta ensemble set-up can both hit a few snags: consider, frustratingly, how neither of the movie’s two female protagonists, Shosanna and Bridget Von Hammersmark, make it out alive.
Likewise, is the discussion that has surrounded the movie since release, specifically in the context of the real-world history it has been accused of not just fictionalizing but trivializing. Appropriating it, in the service of a creator who often leans into the shock-value approach.
Though the question remains: is it Tarantino’s best?
Well, it does feel like his most complete movie (next to Jackie Brown) to the point that something like Once Upon a Time… in Hollywood, which goes for a similar approach, revenge-on-evil by way of alternate history, can’t quite measure up, at least, not to the same level.
But fifteen years later, bolstered by a creative spearheading a committed approach, crew and an excellent cast?
Inglourious Basterds endures.
Since the very beginning of his career, Tarantino has courted controversy. From his long professional relationship with Harvey Weinstein, through his material, specifically the dialogue in virtually all of his projects (which is considered by many to be racially insensitive) or his openly hostile relationship with those in his shared celebrity sphere - like the time he (very seriously) threatened to kill David Letterman.