And I’m pleased that we agree I think my main point is that I wouldn’t have expected any real Jewish content, as this would have added too much depth to the characters and stripped them of their “Dirty Dozen” appeal.

I think there is less disagreement between us here than you might have hoped for

I also found Inglourious Basterds to be a more entertaining film than Munich. My point was that the characters in Munich are more developed, and (largely as a result of this) are shown to have more ‘Jewish’ personalities.

I cannot decide if Inglourious Basterds is QT’s best film ever, but I certainly found it to be a return to form. I found the two Kill Bill films (especially Vol.1) something of a disappointment. Vol. 2 was only redeemed by the brilliance of the late David Carradine; and Michael Madsen was excellent in this too.

I do not think that any meaningful comparison can be made between this film and Munich, as they had only the most superficial elements in common. As Roger Ebert once noted (I think it was in his review of The Passion of the Christ – another personal favourite of mine), a film should be judged on what it aims to achieve, rather than on what it might have aimed to achieve. I found Munich tediously slow: the attention to characterisation made for an interesting psychological study, but a poor cinematic experience. What is more, the dialogue in Munich was so painfully aware of being ‘well-written’ that I was never able to truly believe any of the characters.

Inglourious Basterds, on the other hand, did not aim for anything approaching realism. A spaghetti Western, indeed! (Although it’s interesting how that term has come to mean something other than what it originally intended.)

I absolutely loved this film. In fact, I will even go so far as to suggest that this is not only Tarantino’s greatest work (the closing line, as regards his “masterpiece” might have been meant for the director) but perhaps the greatest film that I have seen this year. I was on the edge of my seat from the beginning to the end and I think that he worked the suspense marvellously. How impressive that a film can build continually and yet still feature a closing scene that is utterly satisfying! I am almost embarrassed to note that I nearly wept with joy, despite the grotesque violence! An itch, deeper than I knew I had, has just been thoroughly scratched and has left me breathless.

The acting was sensational, the dialogue was so perfectly weighted, and there was not a wasted scene that springs to mind. The only reason that I do not think this movie will win an Oscar nomination for Best Film is that it is too left-field. It does not add to our understanding of anything, and nor does it make a serious statement about the world in which we live. It is vintage Tarantino: a gratuitous romp that proves utterly spellbinding, and that indicates that he has most certainly not lost his touch. Schindler’s List may be the greatest Nazi-era film ever made, but this is my most enjoyable.

Your comment raises the point other people have missed in the discussion about the movie (though I think you may have assumed I was endorsing the above interpretation).

The issue is about Jewish protection and self-determination: does Tarantino have the right to criticise Jews for the manner in which they protect themselves? Does anyone have that right?

And if no one has the right to criticise the manner in which Jews defend themselves, are there moral limits on what forms the defence can take? Or are there no limits of any kind, and it is survival at all costs?

When discussions turn to Israel, critics of the IDF invariably criticise the army for failing to act morally and humanely. Opponents of these critics counter this argument by saying that the IDF’s actions protect Israel’s very existence and that the IDF generally behaves morally but that ultimately survival trumps other considerations. Your comment is important because very few people see the connection between Tarantino’s film and broader notions of Jewish protection.

Please don’t interpret the questions above as rhetorical – I would love to read what you & others think about this.

“… even though we know history never turned out like this, it was really nice to imagine it for a while. Almost as if you’re watching Ben Kingsley in Schindler’s List, but it’s the brutal demonic Ben Kingsley out of Sexy Beast, and he’s clubbing Amon Goeth around the chops with a baseball bat.”

That visual really works for me. Ben Kingsley’s a very versatile actor.

Now I just have the niggling feeling that all that’s missing from Inglourious Basterds is The BK.

From Galus Australis: thank you, ra!

Tarantino has said that despite its being a war film, Inglourious Basterds is a “spaghetti western but with World War II iconography”
[It's] my bunch-of-guys-on-a-mission film. [It's] my Dirty Dozen or Where Eagles Dare or Guns of Navarone kind of thing.”

However he also says:

Over the years, when I was coming up with the idea of the American Jews taking vengeance, I would mention it to male Jewish friends of mine, and they were like, “That’s the movie I want to see.

I agree with this. To me it is about what should have happened, instead of Jews and especially the allies just standing back until it was all too late.

Munich is a movie about revenge after the fact.

Frosh, you hit the nail on the head. Interestingly, I think the other post-ers have missed the implications of your observation.

Tarantino’s latest film isn’t about Jews at all – how often are they shown to be davening? In fact, beyond their surnames and vaguely stereotypical & recognisable “Jewish” features, they were indistinguishable from other American soldiers. Further, the only reason the plot hangs together is because Shoshana is able to mask her Judaism so effectively.

No the film is not about Jews, nor is it an “empowerment film”: it’s a satirical depiction of American notions of justice and revenge and a strong criticism of the widespread violence across the USA. Inglourious Basterds is a merciless attack on American vigilantes who believe that, when facing a morally bankrupt and brutal enemy, any means of revenge are justifiable. By implication, Tarantino is also attacking those Jews who dream of taking a baseball bat to the butchers who brutalised their families during the Shoah.

When I saw the film, I was struck by how much it reminded me of the Rambo-style Hollywood films: the gratuitous violence, the untold number of bullets sprayed in every direction and of course the American heroes. Make no mistake, Tarantino is just using the Holocaust as a vehicle to make his point: there are few other examples from modern history that would make for such an effective “revenge fantasy”.

For Jews, the questions the film should make us grapple with are, when does defence become revenge, and are any means legitimate.