Inglorious Basterds

I’ve decided that Quentin Tarantino just cannot make another Pulp Fiction. Plain and simple. He tries and tries, and it’s just never going to happen for him. Not that this was anything like PF, but I just thought I’d say that because it needed to be said.

Inglorious Basterds was basically a foreign language film. I admire the QT for experimenting and all that, but this movie wasn’t THAT great, save for Christoph Waltz’ performance. I now get why he won that Oscar; he was bone-chilling and charming and confusing and all sorts of things, and the fact that he spoke 4 languages within the course of 150 minutes made his character that much more dynamic. But. Everyone else was basically a fill-in-the-blank part. I enjoy Brad Pitt and Diane Kruger, of course, but these parts didn’t do anything for them. BJ Novak just stood there. Samm Levine may as well have been a cardboard cutout.

The weird thing about all the languages, now that I think about it, is that QT is known for his raw, rich, uber-American dialogue, of which there wasn’t any in this film because there were so many languages. And he didn’t even make up for it with that much violence. There were, of course, scalps sliced off and testicles blown off and heads shot off and all that, but it wasn’t as shocking as it used to be. I don’t know. I just think he’s losing his touch. I wasn’t that interested in the story or the characters, either. Better luck next time, I guess.