I don't know how to review this movie because i haven't seen it yet.credit to rollingstones.com
In the bunker of Quentin Tarantino's hypnotically fired-up imagination, World War II features Brad Pitt scalping Nazis, G.I. Jews with a flair for torture porn, the Führer at the movies, a film critic as a war hero, babes as the brains of the French and German Resistance, an S.S. Jew hunter who gets all the juiciest lines, bloody revenge by bat, bomb and dismemberment, and a blazing end for the Third Reich that ain't in history books.
Inglourious Basterds begins in German-occupied
Elsewhere in
If you're down with that, brush up on your German, French, Italian and hillbilly and head off to the spell-check-ignoring Inglourious Basterds, which should have been called How I Won the War, by Quentin Tarantino. It's not an ego trip. Tarantino's power punch comes from cinema itself. What's better than action, composition, editing, camera movement and a machine-gun spray of killer Tarantino dialogue if you want to go medieval on Nazi ass?
At 46, Tarantino still loves walking a tightrope minus the net. So it's easy to pick at his film's flaws: It sputters, bogs down in minutiae, talks itself into blind alleys and trips on its own ambition. Detractors say the 152-minute epic should be shorter, funnier, more fierce, less verbal, add battle scenes.