Last week I was lucky enough to catch Inglourious Basterds (presented
by Eli Roth) at the Fantasia Film Festival. Lucky because the tickets
were free, and lucky because I can confidently state that
this film is Tarantino's master stroke.
And not in a jerk-off way, either.
Like
the recent death of Michael Jackson; President Obama's inauguration,
and other American 'giant leaps for mankind,' Basterds is an event: the
ascension of a great cinema craftsman into the pantheon of living
masters.
But you may have your doubts. I had mine: the
Basterds themselves, for example. Pussies, I thought. How can those Jew
Basterds be taken seriously? One answer: Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz played
icy-cold by Til Schweiger.
Now I've never pretended to be
smart - not since I fell out of that tree in high school anyway - but
there's one thing I know in my bones like the coming rain in an old
arthritic woman's hands, and it's violence. More specifically, when
violence is about to go down...
And I'll tell ya what. Basterds is a
slow
turn of the screw that makes Henry James' Turn of the Screw sound like
The Hardy Boys. An opera of destruction. From Roth's Ritalin deprived
man-child, to the unrequited love of a Nazi hero, Basterds has more
reversals than a Rubik's Cube.
While watching (full of malt
liquor and the bladder of a preemie) I wondered if there's anyone out
there that keeps *score* of things like reversals in film. You know,
like in sports? Cause holy shit like c'mon you
can't
be serious. Just when you thought the scene had nowhere else to go -
BLAM! Shit on the fan. On the walls. In the front row seats of the
movie theatre. And piss running down my leg.

After the film
Eli asked us to spread the word about the film because Tarantino is
super-proud of the film and literally fought to have the film screened
at Fantasia out of respect for the festival and its fans. So that's
what I'm doing. Not because I like writing reviews, because this shit
is fucking painful.
And not because I'm *friends* with Randy
Pearlstein who co-wrote Roth's Cabin Fever - because we're not really
*friends* anyway. And not because I contacted Eli on Myspace and asked
him to put me on a guest list for the film because the tickets were all
sold-out by the time I heard the film was playing, and then I
embarrassingly showed up at the premiere (I was already there having
seen Michael Dougherty's excellent Trick 'R' Treat just before it - you
can buy that one on DVD in October) and asked if they had REPO MAN (my
code to Eli who never responded to my message) on the list and they
said NO... but because INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS reveals itself to be more
than just a great film - it's the cinematic knighting of a man as a
master. Truly an event to witness wouldn't you say?
p.s. I got the ticket free because not everyone on the VIP list was present. Thanks Fantasia.
p.p.s I also met Fangoria editor Tony Timpone. Whadda great guy. Happy 30th Fango.