Chapter 5: Revenge Of The Giant Head

Last night I watched Inglourious Basterds. I hadn't seen it before and it turns out there's more to it than you might think. As I was watching it I wondered if it's more enjoyable if one speaks German and/or French in addition to English. I guess I'll never really know...

Immediately afterward my thoughts went to what a challenge it must be for an actor to portray Hitler or Goebbels and I briefly thought of the film Max. Today, though, I find I am thinking about film in a way I haven't for quite a while. I've thought about a movie the day after seeing it. Lately it's been of the type of "wasn't that funny" or "that scene was cool" or "that was unrealistic." Today is different. Today I'm thinking not about what was cool or gory or implausible. Today I'm thinking about subtext and acting and framing a shot and foreshadowing and a glass of milk and so on and so on.

So, thank you Mr Tarantino. It's a good start to the year for my, uh, intellect.


ps I am still a booze blogger and booze hound after all. The paint on brick advert for Byrrh did not go unnoticed. Neither did the Picon sign in the tavern or that delicious looking old bottle of Chartreuse ...


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