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Tarantino has the craft down pat. He's great at leading actors, he's got a sense of timing, and his dialogue scenes have more punch than all of Bay's action scenes with screaming robots put together, but I can't digest the story he presents with the best of wills. The first chapter is phenomenal. It has everything: a great build-up, a sultry atmosphere, the suspense of what will inevitably come at any second, and the perfect entry of an extremely charismatic asshole. But the rest of the film, in my eyes, teeters on a thin line between sparse admiration and feelings of awkwardness, between what I am still logically willing to accept and what I am no longer. Narrative excess is fine, but everything has its limits, Quentin. (30.08.2009)

A film by a filmmaker who loves films. Tarantino's synthesis of B-movie aesthetics has (for now) reached its ultimate stage in the form of a war opus. There’s room for references, his own ego, and a final chapter of historical revisionism that, if it hadn't been making fun of the previous ones all along, would hardly have been understood. A pleasant surprise to my own expectations. (07.10.2009)

In previous films, Tarantino paid tribute to everything possible, and in this one he pays tribute to himself. And it’s not bad at all! Although the controversial filmmaker cannot deny his trademarks, Inglourious Basterds feels somehow more sedentary, sensible and moderate than his annoying genre masturbation in the past. If I have to choose the character that they are most similar to, the it is undoubtedly Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt). The characters in Inglourious Basterds have charm, cynicism, straightforwardness, and they talk in a protracted southern accent. The dialogues and individual situations are incredibly drawn out, but at the same time they perfectly create tension between the characters, which each additional replica can cut into a sharp and short shootout. Surprisingly, Inglourious Basterds is not an action film, but rather a conversational film. So, what is there to complain about? The fact they do nothing more in a fantastic area other than recite a banal guerrilla story, pretend to be catchy comic book characters, and bow to the subversive powers of the film. If I compare it with Tarantino's previous films, it's a complete epic... In my opinion, this is probably the best film by the king of film pulp. (17.08.2009)

To have a two-and-a-half-hour Tarantino movie with only two characters portrayed in detail with a proper backstory (Christoph Waltz, Mélanie Laurent) while none of them belongs to the titular “Basterds” is unforgivable. The “Basterds” are there just to give the film some sort of a weak framework; their potential started in the trailer and ended in the cutting room. All of the other elements of this flick are, however, *Cinema Paradiso*. (30.08.2009)

Surprisingly, Tarantino has fulfilled his promise and made a film that in his post-2000 filmography will have the same privileged status as Pulp Fiction had in the 1990s. You could praise pretty much everything about it, from the performances, through the script and the sharp dialogues, to some perfectly directed scenes (the beginning, the climax in the cinema, Shoshanna’s getting ready…). Inglourious Basterds is the best film I’ve seen in the cinema so far this year and I think District 9, Antichrist and Avatar are the only ones with chances to be better. PS: The last line of the film could have been said by Quentin himself. (28.08.2009)