Inglorious Basterds (2009) is self-indulgently fantastical. Stylistically and historically, it is an outlandish film that thrives in how outlandish it is. Hitler, Goebbels and all the other Nazi elite weren’t gunned down in a burning theater as a giant face laughed at their demise. Yet, this betrayal of history is not a drawback from the film’s appeal, but its main strength. One could argue the events are misleading and ill-informed, but that critique would only be valid if the film was educational in nature. And Inglorious Basterds has nothing to teach. That is, nothing that isn’t obvious.
Obviously, the film is not a documentary (although there are segments where an unknown narrator explains, say, how flammable nitrate film is), yet it does have a moral to teach. In postmodern films such as this, grand narratives and trite messages are looked down upon. Yet, Inglorious Basterds does have a message that resonates with Quentin Tarantino’s most well-known classic: Pulp Fiction (1994).
Pulp Fiction is an anthology movie similar to Inglorious Basterds consisting of chapters that add up to a grand narrative. Underneath the stylized violence and witty writing, they share a recurring message through each of their respective segments. In Pulp Fiction, each short story comes down to doing the right thing, no matter how inconvenient the circumstance (Most notably when Bruce Willis’s character saves his crime lord ex-boss from a gang-rape. That’s as much summary as I’ll allow that film. For an elaborate one, I’d need a book.). It answers the question Spike Lee poses in Do the Right Thing (1989): what is the right thing? Both films are full of hatred and vitriol, though Tarantino dresses it up with glamorous bloodshed while Lee prefers the realistic portrayal of uneasy race relations. Yet underneath this negativity is the answer to that simple question: empathy for your fellow man.
Inglorious Basterds also teaches to do the right thing, but the answer isn’t as easy as empathy. In fact, empathy is absent from the film’s two-and-a-half hour run-time. It’s a film in which Nazi hunters maim and murder Nazis. There’s no debate of the grey morality surrounding their actions, because it’s not as murky as that.
Nazis don’t deserve empathy. They are exempt from empathy, so no one should give them empathy. That’s the right thing.
Hans Landa seems to take issue with this claim when he negotiates with Aldo Raine, claiming he deserves some “mutual respect.” But that’s the antagonist’s argument. Landa, who has been portrayed as a deceiving charmer to this point, is not to be trusted, nor should he be. Him, along with his comrades and superiors, are undoubtedly evil men who, through their prejudices, have surrendered their right to be sympathized with. To debate this is a mistake, one Shosanna makes when she checks on Frederick’s body after shooting him. His whimpers call on her empathy, and result in her getting shot as well.
Inglorious Basterds has no patience for moral quandaries because what it has to say is so straightforward. The simplicity of the message allows Tarantino to alter the historical facts of World War II to his heart’s content. The message of shooting Nazis in World War II was that Nazis don’t deserve empathy. The message of (over-)shooting Nazis in Inglorious Basterds is that Nazis don’t deserve empathy. The message holds true even if the substance and style of the history has changed.
Is there a violence-fantasy aspect involved? Of course. Audiences enjoy watching Hitler’s face get shot to bits just as much as Hitler (in the film) enjoy a Nazi gunning down enemies for the length of a feature film. There is something to be said about voyeurism in the film, especially considering Tarantino’s appeal has often stemmed from the sensationalist sex and violence he includes in his movies. Should viewers feel guilty for playing the voyeur and enjoying Nazi balls getting blown off and Nazi scalps getting scalped?
No. Because Nazis don’t deserve empathy. Not in history nor in this film. For this reason, Inglorious Basterds is still factual despite it’s fictionalized plot and style. It manages to be fictionally factual.
Which is why, to quote Aldo’s last line in the movie, this film is a “masterpiece.”
The CineMan Twist 