Inglorious Arguement

Okay,I've avoided writing about "Inglourious Basterds" because I've argued enough about this film on the phone for the past 3 weeks. Oh, look. my spell check is going crazy. It must not like the petulant irrelevance of Tarantino's title miscues either.
That might have been a hint at exactly how much I disliked the film. Alright, let the games begin.
The opening scene, a cat and mouse game between the Nazi Jew hunter and the French farmer is everything a scene should be. Tarantino writes great scenes. I was with him-and then things started to go awry. The great Jew hunting Nazi has the teenage Jewish girl in his sights and a squad of Jew hunting bad guys at his disposal in rural France. And----he lets her go. Bye-bye, go, be free and repay me by owning a cinema in Paris because I've got this great idea......
Tarantino writes script like a teenage boy, interested not in the logic of the story or consistent characterization, but in indulging the petty sex and gore fantasies of an odd adolescent who's brain hasn't quite reached the level of sophistication of say...Beavis and Butthead.The story doesn't matter nor do the consequences of the story (which in this case is particularly heinous-turning Jews into the same kind of bloodlusting animals that the Nazi's were. And make no mistake- the scalping and head bashing of captured prisoners of war is indisputably immoral, unless your Dick Cheney) Tarantino's adolescent fantasies about bashing Nazi heads is immoral and disgusting and if you found yourself cheering, try a little soul searching.And there's more-a squad of Jewish killers that have no history but truck loads of hate, a lead character from the American south that we don't know a damn thing about, especially about what turned him into this blood lusting murderer (it isn't the Jewish thing because we know he's not Jewish and by the way southern g.i.'s in WWII were notorious for hating Jews). There's an interracial romance that makes about as much sense as a Jewish teenager growing up to inherit a French Cinema. And all of it tacked on because over margarita's one night Tarantino got the idea "Wouldn't it be cool if we burned Hitler while he was watching a movie?"
Which brings me to the title. Those of you who went to the USC Theater Dept. might remember Louis Fantasia talking about the very first clue to unlocking a story's meaning-"it's in the title, stupid". Or in this case in the stupid title. On Charlie Rose, Tarantino himself confirmed it when asked about the intentional misspellings. "Ehh," he said, "it's just an artistic flourish". Exactly. Signifying nothing. Much like the rest of this film. Aldo Rain? Really? Nice inside joke you self indulgent, petulant child. As for me, I'd rather watch the great film Quentin Tarantino will make when he grows up.
I want this blog to be civil, but on this film I'll take all comers.