Inglorious Basterds (2009)

Quentin Tarrantino has a knack for pushing the progress of cinema backwards a few decades. With every film, he embraces the roots of today’s movies, creating a gleefully anachronistic throwback. Inglorious Basterds is his (intentionally misspelled) salute to the World War II movies of yore, embracing both the gung-ho camp and intricate conspiracies of that era. Seeing Brad Pitt strut around as a sadistic Nazi-hunter leading a band of angry Jews is delightful, gruesome fun, but the film’s heart and much of its plot belong to a revenge tale waiting in the wings. It makes for an awkward, though terribly interesting trip through Nazi-occupied France, with cheesy enthusiasm intercut with a deadly serious story of justice. Tarrantino’s ever-present talent for dialogue is at full strength as well, with brilliantly meandering conversations framing every move the story makes; it's especially interesting considering the vast majority of the film is in either French or German. As a whole, it is exactly what it sets out to be—the kind of film they just don’t make anymore, delivered with love from one of the best talents in the business.

8 out of 10.