Tuesday 8 September 2009

Ingoriest Basterds


Any film that involves strudel, the consumption of strudel or Kevin Kostner normally tanks at the box office (see Message in a Bottle, The Postman, Tin Cup and Waterworld). But luckily for the genre-raiding self-referencing genius of Quentin Tarantino (not to be confused with Her Excellency Quentin Bryce AO - her films normally feature way more gore and language that can't be shown in a general release) this strudel curse seems to be lifted by his latest effort Inglourious Basterds.

Despite it's slightly bloated running length the film is funny, gory, heavy on Nazi scalping (as opposed to the Nazi bikini waxing of Fran Drescher's underrated The Fanny series of telemovies) and filled with tension. The opening scene in the farmhouse is cracking. But the film would be nothing without the talents of Christoph Waltz. Man that dude can act. Comedy. Villainy. Strudel eating. He can do it all.

My scalps off to you Mr. Waltz. (See what I did there?)

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