Details drive WWII fantasy

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Like most Americans, the very thought of reading fills me with anger and dread. In fact, the mere sight of a book causes me to punch the wall in illiterate rage. What could a book teach me about WWII that Quentin Tarantino couldn’t? Oh, sure, a book could give me facts and historical data, but being that books are filled with indistinguishable squiggles that are, according to my editor, called words, how would I ever know?

So parents, teachers, friends and neighbors, I urge all of you to put your child’s education in the hands of a high school dropout and his grotesquely enlarged skull and let them teach your kids about how The Bear Jew, The Little Man and all of the rest of the “Inglourious Basterds” saved America from the creeping threat of the Third Reich.

In “Inglourious Basterds,” Brad Pitt plays Aldo Raine (If you get that reference you are a nerd. Shame on you!), a Foghorn Leghorn-esque army lieutenant in charge of the “Basterds,” a group of Jewish American soldiers who are chosen to spread fear and chaos throughout Nazi-occupied France. What kind of fear and chaos? I’m glad I asked that question, because the Basterds spread only the best kind of fear and chaos: they kill and scalp any Nazi who’s stupid enough to get in their way.

Elsewhere, in an unexpected subplot, a French-Jewish teenager (Melanie Laurent) manages a movie theater and plans revenge against Col. Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz) who cruelly murdered her entire family. Unfortunately, her plans are complicated by the unwanted advances of Nazi heartthrob Frederick Zoller (Daniel Bruhl) who wants to premiere his grotesque, jingoistic film at her theater. Oh, and Mike Myers is in this as well. I know, isn’t that weird?

Although far from the kill-a-minute “Dirty Dozen” throwback that the trailers promised, “Inglourious Basterds” marks an improvement over Tarantino’s previous effort “Death Proof.” The dialogue is sharper, the direction is tighter and the performances (particularly Waltz, whose character will eventually replace Werner Klemperer’s Col. Klink as America’s most lovable Nazi) are distinctive and strong. But what really sets “Inglourious Basterds” apart is the little things, such as the fact that the film is occasionally narrated by Samuel L. Jackson for no particular reason and that Tarantino got all of the period details correct (Edgar Wallace, Karl May and Emil Jannings are name checked), but all of the historical details wrong. I love the fact that he played fast and loose with history, but couldn’t he have played faster and looser? Why isn’t Hitler made of glass? Why aren’t the Basterds riding on the backs of wooly mammoths? Why isn’t Hermann Goering tied to a chair, and why isn’t Charlie Chaplin cutting his ear off as “Stuck in the Middle with You” plays in the background? Why isn’t there a scene set in robot heaven? I mean, c’mon, you couldn’t shoot one scene in robot heaven?

Tarantino may not be the postmodern Jean Luc Godard that critics declared him to be in the mid ’90s, but that’s OK. Who wants to be boring old Godard when you could be one of the best B-movie directors we’ll ever see in this lifetime? And “Inglourious Basterds” is the film he will be remembered by (that is, if every copy of “Pulp Fiction” and “Reservoir Dogs” is mysteriously lost in a fire, otherwise no).

Rating: W W W 1/2