inglorious

only a handful of directors in cinematic history, let alone the common era, can boast as endearing a fan base as that of quentin tarantino. the significance of this base is that it contains within it not only the average teen to twentysomething moviegoing audience, or even that the base should extend beyond to the infrequently attending. in the theatre i attended, the youngest was about age eight or nine, the oldest, an elderly couple in their seventies. both applauded during the credits.

rather, the outstanding techniques of tarantino's style, a focus on cinematic history and celebration of genre deconstruction appeal to an audience of both renowned critics and the common guru, those who we rely on for the opinion of the film, making that base especially influential. it could be argued that without fail thus far, even the least entertaining of his library (consisting of anywhere between six to nine now, depending on which guru you ask) wouldn't suffer more than a b-. and yet, i would argue that a filmmaker whom even i place on a pedestal has not been able to top his best works with his latest release, and for all its merits, will leave his deepest supporters ultimately frustrated- but the average moviegoer ultimately very satisfied. this is the dichotomy that begins to exist in a fanbase when one approaches greatness.

on a sidenote, i first feared the social ramifications of regularly attending the cinema with my mother, but it was not nearly as horrifying as my nightmares in high school made it out to be. in fact, accompanying ones mother to a casual social function seems to strike a tone of endearment with the elusive creature known as "the female"... i must study this phenomenon further. but this was not my motive! actually, varying your audience to one with tastes you would regard as unlike your own can assist you in separating ultimately unsatisfying films for the superior counterparts. in time, she will learn of better health documentaries than food, inc., and i will learn about better drama than terminator: salvation.

and as i said before, two such disparate audiences leaving at least somewhat satisfied from a film is ultimately a rare experience. mom did not care for the violence one iota, but found the performances to be very endearing and the story to be quite entertaining. she was especially amused by tarantinos ultimate disregard for world history, a piece i felt i should have expected. for my part, i felt the film lacks no outstanding lead performances, subtle genre homage for the discerning fan, or meticulous attention to detail both in design and shooting.

but at its core, the film seems to lack any pure motive or message, the way the ideas of redemption or revenge rang through in his most renowned works, kill bill and pulp fiction. and although i fear to walk the line of heresy with the next statement, it seemed at moments the director was relying on his familiar gimmicks almost as a crutch, not stretching the limits of his previous achievements in cinema language and violence-as-art. finally, the film does not live up to it's advertisement as a war epic, feeling much more like a play on the tactical espionage films of the postwar era.

so yes, while one of the best of the summer, i must give tarantino ultimately, finally, a thumbs down. not because it is bad, its good, and you'll probably like it. but it's quentin tarantino. he's supposed to be the greatest, and i know my fellow tennessean has more true gems waiting. the best one, hopefully the next one.