What a Shame

Rating: 3/10 (10 June 2013)

I have a great fondness for Tarantino. "Reservoir Dogs," "Pulp Fiction," "Jackie Brown" (his best, in my opinion), "Django Unchained" -- all good stuff, especially the first three. I even enjoyed the "Kill Bill" movies. But this -- it's almost unadulterated rot. I say *almost* unadulterated because Waltz was great. He is, though, pretty much the only thing in this movie worth watching aside from the opening chapter. Though the latter went on a tad too long, it was nicely suspenseful and well-filmed.
But that great opening and Waltz's performance don't make up for the rest of the film. My biggest issue is that the morality of the movie is way, way off. It's pathological. I'm speaking as a fan of "Reservoir Dogs" here, so it's not violence per se that's problematic for me. I mean, it's one thing to see bad guys blow each other up, or to see good guys deal with the bad guys while having some heart about it; it's another thing to see what are supposed to be the "good guys" engaging in torture and mayhem, with our being asked to identify with it and cheer them on. I found it pretty disgusting, quite frankly. Scalping? Carving swastikas into people's foreheads? (so much for recognizing the possibility of redemption) Bottom line: the Nazis were shown as having a lot more integrity, honor, and soul than the Jewish "heroes" here, and I doubt that that's what Tarantino meant to convey.
Tarantino's movies are almost always, at least, interesting both visually and in terms of dialogue, but in this movie, there's no evidence of that. Conversations go on and on. And on. And in four different languages. Sheesh! Subtitles work for movies like "Dances with Wolves" or "The Passion of the Christ," but in a Tarantino-style, darkly comedic revenge flick, what he put out there is far too much. The dialogue itself was bad enough, but our being forced to read most of it in sub-titles made the pacing of this movie really tedious.
I am willing to suspend disbelief some for the sake of a good flick, but here, too many questions are just too big (for ex., how *did* that milk maid from the countryside end up owning a cinema in Paris? Why *did* some of those "inglourious basterds" blow themselves up rather than just set some explosives and bolt?) It saddens me to have to dislike this movie and give it a bad review 'cause, like I said, I like Tarantino (I think I'd really enjoy his company. He's so passionate and fiery! I'd even let him play with my feet if I could hang out with him for a day!). But I just gotta. Sorry, Quentin.