Quentin Tarantino's latest film, the World War II/revenge/exploitation/spaghetti western flick Inglorurious Basterds (henceforth referred to as IB, since purposefully misspelling things triggers my OCD), is the most recent film to set off a critical firestorm regarding both its meaning and place in Tarantino's filmography. The reason I felt compelled to write an entry on the film is because this ongoing debate has really encapsulated for me a large problem I have with modern film criticism, and one of the reasons I set up this blog. And secondly, it also details the love/hate relationship I have with QT and his films.
For a cinephile like myself, there are a few films that you will always remember the first time you watched them, that have a profound effect on you when the credits roll. The first for me was Star Wars as a kid. I had never really thought about movies before that, but Star Wars showed me that there was a whole other galaxy right inside my TV set, and imagination.
As I got older, Pulp Fiction had a similar effect. On the recommendation of a friend, I watched the movie at 2 AM one night on TV (uncut) while I was home alone. When it was over I had a new favorite movie. I was 15 and impressionable, and for a few years at least Pulp Fiction represented a masterpiece of cinema. It was the first film I had seen that critics, film professionals, etc, consider to be truly great. If I looked down a list like the top 250 on IMDB, or the AFI top 100 movies, there would be a lot of films I hadn't seen, but Pulp Fiction was one I had, and it was always rated quite highly. Deservedly so, I thought.
Over the next six years I saw a lot more movies and had many more experiences like I did when Pulp Fiction ended. My taste in film evolved, and soon the undisputed favorite had many challengers from all corners of cinema. But Tarantino was always a tricky director for me to pin down. I saw and loved Reservoir Dogs and Kill Bill, heard stories of his thievery, and was disappointed by Death Proof. Slowly, he began to descend my list of favorite filmmakers. My views on art changed, and I began to see less and less I liked in his movies. They were still a fun ride, but they didn't leave my mind racing and neurons firing like Wild Strawberries or Late Spring did. I had soured on Tarantino.
Cue IB. Sitting in the theater I was ready to be unimpressed as I was with Death Proof, to walk out of the theater swearing off Tarantino. But IB evoked a sort of visceral response from me. I had fun. I enjoyed his technique, his dialogue, his characters. IB was a fun ride, and when it was over I left with a smile on my face. A good movie. Not great by any means, not the masterpiece Tarantino slyly claimed it was, but a solid, enjoyable flick.
Then, I wandered upon a forum thread discussion of the movie (on The Auteurs, a great site, if anybody is interested). And boy did this movie spur discussion. Essentially, the fight was 3-ways. In one corner, you had the Tarantino fanboys, my former colleagues. In the other, you had the Tarantino haters, who believes QT represents everything that is wrong with modern cinema. And somewhere in between, you had critics who were trying to interpret the film through historic, political, feminist readings. And some found that this gave the film legitimate meaning while others felt it was a misstep because their interpretations didn't hold up.
I didn't agree with any of them. QT is not the messiah of filmmaking, and if you believe that you need to see more movies and probably get out more. Neither is he the end of cinema, he clearly has a lot of talent and the presence of his films do not overshadow any other director. But his films also do NOT contain deep insights into the human experience, politics, history, or anything else.
I realized that I was wrong for souring on QT. In any interview you ever see with the guy, he always talks about film. He genuinely loves movies, and that's all over every single one of his films. But my problem is that after every film critics try to turn it into something its not. They do mental gymnastics, push, pull, stretch, and conveniently ignore until the film fits into what they personally believe to be "art." And if it doesn't work, they thrash it.
But Tarantino never talks about history. He doesn't comment on our perception of World War II, of the Jews, or any of this. Its all incidental to him. When he talks about a scene, he talks about what movies influenced his making of it. When he directs his actors, he gives them points of reference from other movies. This is a man who listed "Speed" in his top 20 movies of the past 17 years. He's never had any more ambition than giving the audience a fun ride. Which he does. Well.
It hit me that it wasn't Tarantino I had a problem with, but the critical response to his movies. I don't care if Tarantino makes a movie that doesn't align with my sensibilities. He's just making the kind of films he wants to make, the kind of films he watched and loved. What I have a problem with is the critical response that his movies always tend to stir up. For some reason his name causes critics to consider his films as something more than they are. To put him up there with the greats, the Bergmans, Kurosawas, Godards, is a disservice. Looking at his movies in any intelligent way reveals little more than a love for bullets and witty repartee. I've never read any interpretation of his movies that convinces me of any motivation beyond indulging his own sensibilities. Every single one conveniently ignores large chunks of the movie, or uses vague, small motifs (such as the nicknames in IB) extrapolated to make ambiguous points. IB doesn't make some grand historical statement. Its a collection of scenes he thought would play out well. With access to money, he's a kid in a candy store. More power to him.
The problem isn't just with QT, but film criticism in general. Critics, in an attempt to appear intelligent, will take a movie like The Dark Knight and try to draw a connection to the conservative political movement. Or make the case that Terminator 3 is a metaphor for post 9/11 America (I actually read this, in a film studies TEXTBOOK of all places). To that I say- what about the scene where he hangs off the back of a truck? Its just so disingenuous. Can't we enjoy these movies for what they are rather than falsifying some greater ambition beyond making a buck?
Like I said, I enjoyed IB for what it was, but if you think about it's "themes" for more than 10 seconds after the film is over, well, see a doctor. In the ensuing discussion in the forum, where I made this very case, somebody agreed with me that QT didn't intend for the movie to be viewed as it was, but that there were still "codes" in the film that needed to be interpreted. The scary part is, people actually believe this, that there are some sort of secret, unintended patterns in films that are worthwhile to point out. To what end?
I'm all for multiple interpretations, but the artist's intent has to factor into it. You can't give a Marxist reading of a Shakespeare play, because Shakespeare wasn't a Marxist, plain and simple. I'm much more interested in films that can provoke a personal reaction, that can give us a snapshot of life. Some of the films I've viewed this summer, like A Woman Under the Influence and Late Spring, do this very well. It's more effective anyway to examine the human condition rather than make some grand historical or political allegory. I can read about history or politics on the Internet. Film can do so much more.
What I'm saying is entertainment has a place, and it goes back to my "movie/film" dichotomy that I outlined in my "Opening Night" post. IB is a fun movie. It's great entertainment, and QT is a great entertainer. But if we're looking to him for a serious meditation on the Holocaust, we're in trouble, folks.
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