Hey everyone! After a week and a half away, it’s great to be back at The Critical Condition.
I took a vacation because I’m ramping up for a new chapter in my professional life: Next month, I’m starting a new job as Content Editor/Writer for the Theater Development Fund’s website, which means I’ll be writing and/or assigning features every week. This gives me a remarkable opportunity to host an ongoing conversation about the theater, and I’m looking forward to sharing my work with you. (To kick things off, here’s a piece I just posted about Thomas Bradshaw, a controversial playwright who’s making waves Off Broadway.)
My new job will not affect The Critical Condition, however. If anything, I’ll have more time to write here, since I won’t have to hustle for freelance assignments. (It’s such a relief it is to be earning a steady paycheck for the first time since 2002!)
Besides, I could never leave the community that’s developing here! I know I don’t know most of you guys, but all week, I’ve been missing our conversations. I’ve been especially anxious to discuss Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds and how critics have ignored a valid and exciting interpretation of the film.
Let’s get to that, shall we?
(WARNING: There are major spoilers ahead, beginning in the very first paragraph after the jump)
You see, I was enthralled by this movie, which rewrites WWII history to include both a group of Nazi-scalping American soldiers (called the Basterds) and a Jewish cinema owner who avenges her family’s murder by burning her movie house while every important SS officer (including Hitler) is trapped inside.
Walking out of the theater, I was buzzing: Like every Tarantino film, Inglourious Basterds delivers zippy entertainment, masterful filmmaking, and intelligent dialogue. This one, however, injects the fun with larger questions about revenge and national character. For me, the extra layer makes this Tarantino’s best movie.
Imagine my surprise, then, when none of the reviews I read discussed Basterds’ social critique. Critics like Roger Ebert and Mick Lasalle hint at this perspective, but they mostly praise Tarantino’s style and Christoph Waltz’s glorious performance as a Nazi commander. Even more surprising, a large number of critics specifically slam Tarantino for making a mindless revenge picture. In his review for Slate.com, for instance, Dana Stevens writes, “If Inglorious Basterds were about something more than the cinematic thrill of watching Nazis suffer, it could have been a revelation.”
Maybe I’m alone here, but I say the film is about something more.
To begin, I’d argue that Tarantino has consciously chosen to make a movie about hating Nazis because Nazis are the only people that most of the Western world agrees to hate. And since most of us concur that their actions were evil, Hitler and the Nazis often become abstracted into general symbols for dark deeds. I mean, it seems like every time one politician wants to belittle another, or a student wants to complain about a teacher, or hell, a fry cook wants to bash her shift manager, they all resort to calling their enemy a “Nazi” or “Mrs. Hitler” or some such thing.
That’s not to say that the Holocaust itself is an abstraction. But when we call our math teachers Nazis, we aren’t suggesting they want to lock up our Jewish classmates. We’re just reaching for our culture’s most universal synonym for “Evil Demon.” Right or wrong, the Third Reich often functions as a metaphor in our daily discourse.
I think Tarantino knows that. The way I see it, if , Inglourous Basterds isn’t about Nazis, then it can’t explore its larger theme.
And that theme is how revenge cripples societies.
More than just “kosher porn” or a cheap excuse to show some bad guys getting whacked, Inglourious Basterds is an unsettling examination of how culturally acceptable hatred creates a terrifying mob mentality.
That idea is most pronounced in the climactic “burning cinema” scene.
There’s no question that Tarantino wants us to cheer when Shoshanna Dreyfuss and her lover Marcel burn down her movie theater, trapping Hitler and his fellow Nazis inside. There’s no question that we’re meant to whoop when the Basterds inside the flaming theater shoot SS officers like sitting ducks.
But this is not an uncomplicated victory. For one thing, everyone inside the cinema (with the possible exception of Marcel) dies. Even Shoshanna, who is clearly planning to escape, gets shot by the SS Officer she thought she killed. Her revenge plot works, but it swallows her whole.
And doesn’t it swallow us as well? Consider this: Just before the Nazis get burned, we see them clapping and cheering as they watch a movie about a German sniper who kills vulnerable American soldiers. It’s framed as a horrible event. Yet a few moments later, the film puts us in the position of those Nazi moviegoers. If we feel excited to see Hitler and Goebells get assassinated by Basterds, or if we cheer as the Germans on the cinema floor get shot from the balcony, then we are behaving just like the Nazis as they watch their propaganda film.
That’s not a pleasant thing to think about, but that’s the point. Why should it be easy to cheer for another person’s death, no matter how wicked they are? When we celebrate death, who have we become?
To make those questions truly resonant, the film must depict Nazis getting killed. The audience has to be able to hate the villains so much (and so easily) that it can cheer when they die. We have to be so thirsty for revenge that we can feel ourselves applauding for our movie just like Nazis applaud for theirs.
A film that creates that kind of parallel is not just a collection of genre homages and fight scenes. It’s a sophisticated insight into how the hive mind affects us all, no matter which side we’re on.
12 responses so far ↓
1 sam // Aug 28, 2009 at 11:48 am
In tune with this, I was also really moved by the subtle way in which Zoller, who I generally hated (and was supposed to hate), was visibly upset at having to watch the film of his exploits. He’s clearly got some PTSD going on, which is something that humanizes him in a way that I really wasn’t expecting, and i actually felt for him in that moment, which I REALLY wasn’t expecting to do.
2 Lis // Aug 28, 2009 at 12:13 pm
I’m glad someone else noticed this theme. I was discussing it after watching it last Friday and we came to the conclusion that Tarentino was almost creating a US Propaganda film with Basterds, something that, had it been made during the war would have been shown to the troops in the same way the Nazi film was meant to. I hate to say this but in ways it reminded me of Starship Troopers… but in a good way.
3 M. Giant // Aug 28, 2009 at 1:05 pm
I’ve been thinking of it as a Jacobean revenge tragedy. No heroes, all-consuming revenge plots, lots of big speeches, and a stage littered with corpses at the end. There’s even a five-act structure.
I’m still working on how it fits in with the film idol and sitcom star being the only ones left unscathed, though.
4 Mark Blankenship // Aug 28, 2009 at 3:19 pm
Excellent point about the similarity to Jacobean tragedy, M. Giant. Looking at it that way, you can see Raine as a nihilistic survivor, since he he exists out side the Nazi worldview (obviously) and, by carving up the Nazi the American government pardons, distances himself from the worldview, too. He’s a rogue agent bringing the pain… which is totally something John Webster would write about. Or Calderon, if you know those “honor killing” plays from the Spanish Golden Age.
I hate to be Lucy Literal about your joke about the film idol and the sitcom star escaping unscathed, but Raine does have an injury (though we don’t know where it comes from). What did you make of the scar on his neck?
5 Laura Mc. // Aug 28, 2009 at 3:44 pm
I know! That SCAR! What was that about? A symbol about *speaking* out despite the threat of death? A symbol about victimization on the whole? A symbol about recovery?
I go with something along the lines of speaking out just because it was on the throat, and Brad P delivered his lines with such a pronounced accent for no real reason (except he was from Tennessee, which is a whole different issue about Southern characters).
The power of language paired with the irony of not elaborating on the scar at all using words.. So much to chew on. Such a tease. Also, the presence of the mysterious scar makes Pitt’s character a great foil to the super clean, basically untouched persona of Christoph Waltz’s character.
6 Laura Mc. // Aug 28, 2009 at 3:57 pm
Do you guys think QT’s actors will ever get nominated for Oscars? I mean, Christoph Waltz’s performance was SO exciting and crafted. The same has been true previously, and no nominations have been forthcoming, but this actor really pulls out all the stops. Flawless.
How could they deny him, when the work is so very respectable and mainstream in this film? True.. it would be out-of-the-blue and overturn some other people who have waited their turns, but it’s possible. Jennifer Hudson did it.
7 Mark Blankenship // Aug 28, 2009 at 4:55 pm
Hey Laura, I think Christoph Waltz has an excellent chance, and there is actually precedent for QT’s actors getting tapped. John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, and Uma Thurman all got nominated for “Pulp Fiction,” and Robert Forster picked up a nod for “Jackie Brown.” Personally, I will eat my hat (with mustard) if Waltz doesn’t get the same kind of love. Only question: Will he be noticed in the lead or supporting category?
8 Dustin L // Aug 29, 2009 at 4:01 pm
Mark, I liked your review of this movie so much that I couldn’t get it out of my head when I was writing my own, so I just sent everyone over here.
I’m also soliciting opinions on Brad Pitt’s heritage, and the origin of his neck scar.
9 TeddyBallgame // Aug 30, 2009 at 9:24 am
The scars arc, placement, and thickness implied to me that it was from a noose, adding instant rationale for Pitts character, and for his desire to leave marks on others. He’s had to live with his scar as badge everyday.
10 Bob Lipton // Aug 30, 2009 at 12:19 pm
My own take on the scar is twofold: (1) just to show that the Pitt character has paid his dues via hand-to-hand combat, and (2) as a reference to a particular character in a particular movie — namely, Sgt. Foley as portrayed by Lou Gossett, Jr., in “An Officer and a Gentleman.” I love how the title of that very different movie so ironically relates to the Col. Blanda character in this movie.
And yes, I agree with your review completely.
11 M. Giant // Aug 30, 2009 at 10:49 pm
Right, I forgot about the scar. So many unanswered questions in this movie, that one was pretty far down my list. As long as it’s not from a non-survivable wound — i.e., the last, deleted shot of the film was B.J. Novak doing a double-take at the spot where Raine was squatting just a second ago — I’ll go along with whatever.
12 Mark Blankenship // Aug 30, 2009 at 11:32 pm
@MGiant — Ooh! But what if it turns out that Brad Pitt was only in B.J. Novak’s mind, “Fight Club”-style? That would make me so mad it might make me happy again. Or if Brad Pitt is really just Tom Cruise in a rubber mask using a high-tech voice alteration machine.
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