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10/10
Breathtaking
25 September 2009
As I watched this film, it never occurred to me that a working knowledge of World War II history might actually be a prerequisite to enjoying it. To my mind, Jean-Pierre Melville's meditation on the French Resistance needed no preface since its subtext was one of existential angst, the backdrop of occupied France merely serving as a backdrop.

However, as one reviewer complained, the primary characters in 'Army of Shadows' spent the bulk of their time in self-preservation rather than actually fighting the Germans. He was annoyed that the focal group never seemed to accomplish anything aside from the occasional jail break, and places the qualifier of 'I'm no historian' on his remarks. Clearly.

The truth is that this movie takes place during 1942, a relatively early stage in both the war and the occupation. At the time, there was barely a Resistance of which to speak. Hence, what little anti-Nazi fighting force did exist at the time had two primary concerns: recruitment and survival. It wasn't until the Germans began impressing every able bodied man into forced labor in 1943 (in what was then called Service du travail obligatoire or STO) that the Maquis really gained in number and began to have success against their occupiers. In other words, until the average Frenchman was given the options of either Resistance or concentration camp, most lived cowering in quiet acquiescence. To criticize the movie for refusing to abandon history in favor of satisfying this or that viewer's infantile need for some satisfaction is just childish. Re-writing history in this manner would have done a disservice to the men and women involved.

At any rate, you may have already sensed from this review the tone of the movie: bleak. The entire palette is one of muted blues, gray, and black. The weather is perpetually cloudy. The characters are constantly at odds with both their prospects of success and themselves.

Constantly running and hiding, Melville's subjects participate in actions of questionable ethics. Their portrayal, as anyone who has seen his earlier works Le Cercle Rouge and Le Samourai can tell you, is essentially that of the gangster. The French public at large objected to this characterization, yet a good number of the veterans of this conflict either came forward in the press or contacted Melville directly to congratulate and thank him for his obvious depth of understanding of their plight. In this sense, 'Army' is worth seeing for its historic value, if nothing else. Incidentally, it is noteworthy to make mention of the fact that unlike a good number of other war movies (in which the participants are dyed in the wool believers in the cause and therefore beyond introspection), here our protagonists often openly and plainly question themselves and each other, and whether their desired ends really do justify the means they use to get them.

As for the acting, the quiet desperation so elegantly displayed by Jean-Pierre Cassel as well as the stoic pragmatic hopefulness portrayed by Simone Signoret are two tours de force. In each, we see the kind of power and bravado one only finds in a man at gallows edge. The subtle depth of their performances does the unimaginably cumbersome heavy lifting required by a film of such profundity.

Finally, Army of Shadows is compelling on levels which are completely external to the film itself. Both its philosophical base and its depressive outlook lodge it squarely on level pegging with the literature of Jean-Paul Sartre and Albert Camus as well as being reflective of the general mood in France at the time. This, despite the fact that most of the French who saw it were dismayed at the mistakenly perceived heroic appearance of Charles de Gaulle who had recently been colored a villain for his treatment of the Paris Commune (though in the film he's portrayed as ironic, pinning useless medals on the chests of our 'heroes,' who obviously view them with contempt).

At any rate, I would suggest any reader of this review to not just see this movie but really watch it. It is extremely subtle; oftentimes the most pivotal moments are understated to say the least, with what's not said being more important than what is.

In any event, a perfect 10/10 goes to this cold, cloudy, quietly desperate diamond of a film.
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9/10
Inglourious? Quite the opposite!
26 August 2009
Basterds rates right up there with the top movies I've seen in the theatre this year. I'm not yet sure whether it outstrips Paper Heart, Away We Go, and Gamorrah, but it certainly comes close.

Tarantino's latest effort sees him return to the form and promise he showed in the early part of his career, a la Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction. Essentially a character study done in a 'I wonder what would have happened if' fantasy-esquire setting, Inglourious Basterds is replete with everything we've come to expect from QT: foul-mouthed witty dialogue, a broad brush color palette, and an incongruous time line.

I suppose if I had any complaints about IB they would be as follows. Firstly, I don't think we saw nearly enough of Donny 'The Bear Jew' Donnowitz (played by Eli Roth), as he really only features prominently in one or two scenes. Secondly, I left feeling like the role of Shoshanna Dreyfus (Melani Laurent) may have been miscast. Personally, I am of the mind that Marion Cotillard (La Vie En Rose) could have done a greater turn in her role. Though Laurent turns in a fine performance, for whatever reason I just wasn't buying her as the latent seductress.

That being said, in terms of performances, Tarantino seems to draw the best out of Brad Pitt, whose portrayal of Lt. Aldo Raine could have turned into a hammy over the top caricature of itself in the hands of a lesser auteur. Further, I was particularly captivated by the performance of Til Schweiger as the caustic Sgt. Hugo Stiglitz. However, this could be the result of his scene stealing performances in Judas Kiss and SLC Punk! which won my admiration over a decade ago. Either way, he's fantastic. Finally, I would be remiss if I failed to mention Christopher Waltz as the diabolical Col. Hans Landa. Waltz shines as the perfect antithesis to all the efforts of the 'good guys.' His serpentine genius steals nearly every scene he's in, and he does so in three different languages no less.

At any rate, even though IB clocks in at around two and a half hours in length, it doesn't view that way. Tarantino, if you can't say anything else about him, is a master of pacing, and here he keeps the viewer entertained and immersed in every scene. Yet, somehow, he does so without resorting to cheap shoot 'em up, blow 'em up tactics simply to titillate. Don't misunderstand, there are several events which are grotesque enough to put you off your tea, but those scenes will only surprise the few with short enough memories to have forgotten Pulp Fiction's overdose sequence.

To sum up, while the premise of WWII Allied command unleashing a small, Jewish commando force of avenging angels behind German lines may seem far fetched to pedantic history buffs, just remind yourself that it's Quentin Tarantino. The only question is, who DOESN'T want to drink the Kool-Aide?
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