I've watched "Inglorious Basterds" twice. Both times the showing was sold out, both times the audience applauded at the end. Tarantino has flirted with cinematic greatness before, coming closest with "Pulp Fiction." Somehow, in the face of his immature, self-indulgent proclivities for gratuitous violence and movie history references, the public is sending the movie to the top of the box office charts and film critics are drooling. In short, the aggressively maverick filmmaker has transcended the acquired taste that his films have traditionally elicited into a new response that can only be described as a consensus of admiration. I believe he has exceeded all expectation because he has chosen to handle the notion of expectations with the finesse of a psychologist.
There seem to be two Tarantino's that have emerged over the years - the adolescent rapper and the adult psychologist. The adolescent rapper in him seeks ways to shock and takes pride in the ability to offend. It is in this mischievous and superficial mode that Tarantino prioritizes squirting blood over character development and gross out scenes over messages of meaning, the outcome of which is the likes of "Kill Bill" or "Grindhouse." He plays with our threshold for nasty. The adult psychologist in him, on the other hand, understands and cares about the ways in which people operate. In this deeper, more psychologically-minded mode Tarantino combines the art of movie-making with the science of movie-watching. Here, he plays with expectations regarding morality, implicit prejudices and emotional attachments. Channeling this latter persona, he has created "Reservoir Dogs," "Pulp Fiction" and, now, "Inglorious Basterds" - not only his best and perhaps most commercially successful film, but the one most stamped by the psychologist footprint.
Tarantino knows that we will automatically construct a specific set of expectations not only about movies in general, but specifically about a Nazi action flick that features a Hill-Billy Brad Pitt, a bloody baseball bat and countless dead bodies. He takes these expectations and methodically dismisses and manipulates them. The result is a suspenseful, meaningful and memorable cinematic experience that delivers tremendous dramatic tension and psychological lessons.
The story revolves around the following characters: the Jew Hunter (a skilled German detective), the Inglorious Basterds (a team of Jewish, American soldiers that seek to scalp as many Nazi's as possible), the runaway Jew (a Jewish refugee who plots her revenge when Nazi's visit the movie theater she operates) and the turncoat actress (famous German actress who also doubles as an undercover American spy).
Expectations Reversed
The Jew Hunter is a character we expect to hate. He only smokes German cigarettes, he carries a ridiculously opulent pipe and, most importantly, he is tremendously efficient. He is more German than the German stereotype and his job is to hunt Jews. He is so perfectly designed to elicit hatred that we might even expect to hate him more than the Hitler caricature whose every thought is paranoid and whose every utterance is a shrill scream. But once this character setup is solidified, Tarantino does almost everything he can to deconstruct a comfortable conclusion. The Jew Hunter is the most well-mannered, charming and thoughtful character in the movie. What kind of Jew Hunter asks for someone's permission to switch to a different conversation language? What kind of Jew Hunter decides to, at the last second, help the Americans win the war?
Meanwhile, the more we learn about the supposed heroes - the Inglorious Basterds - the more we realize that they are a reckless gang whom adhere to the same morality rulebook as the worst Nazis. They scalp full heads of hair; cheer with glee as heads are bashed in with baseball bats and stick fingers in bullet wounds to elicit information. They do what we expect the Jew Hunter to do, while the Jew Hunter does what we expect the heros to do!
Expectations Manipulated
The runaway Jew is a character from whom we expect little. In the beginning, she and her family are hiding under the floorboards of a dairy farmer. We do not expect the farmer to surrender the refugee family, because strong and silent men who have three pretty daughters and care about their neighbors do not confess such things to polite and unassuming Nazi Hunters. But he does. Then, as the Nazi machine guns convert the farmer's floorboards to a dusty pile of splinters, we don't expect anyone to survive. But, of course, the runaway Jew does. Then, as she is running ever so slowly through an open field and across the Jew Hunter's unflinching sightline, we expect him to coldly shoot her in the back. He doesn't. She lives. This now becomes a movie in which we care about the runaway Jew. Our emotional connection to her only heightens as we watch her competently execute a plan to kill all of the Nazi crème de la crème. With the Jew Hunter, the Inglorious Basterds and the turncoat actress all converging on the movie theater in an effort to blow it up, it is the simple plan of the slight but sturdy runaway Jew that actually succeeds. And just as our cheers for the unsuspecting heroine reach fever pitch, Tarantino decides to needlessly execute her. The Sniper (a German war hero with a crush on her) has her corned in the projectionist booth. He is about to unintentionally foil her revenge. She shoots him without regret, but instead of escaping the theater before it burns down Tarantino has her experience a flash of unfounded sympathy for this German soldier who robotically murdered 300 of her Jewish brethren. She rolls over his bullet riddled body to check on him, which, of course, allows him to kill her as he takes his dying breath.
The Lessons of Shattered Expectations
In therapy, expectations are a critical point of focus. Expectations of self that are unrealistically high are dysfunctional. A possible therapeutic solution for the self-defeating perfectionist whose primary problem is being one's own worst critic is to learn to curb judgmental thought (i.e. recast everything you do not in terms of right or wrong, but effective or ineffective). Tarantino teaches this lesson through the reversed expectations of the Jew Hunter. We learn not to judge a book by its cover, but by the degree of one's effectiveness. The Jew Hunter is systematic and thorough in his job execution; he is thoughtful and smart in how he observes and treats those around him. In the end we realize that had he been fighting for the Americans we would have unconditionally loved him.
On the other hand, inaccurate, unrealistic or maladaptive expectations of self that are too low can be just as destructive. A possible therapeutic solution for the alienating narcissist whose primary problem is being ones own biggest fan is to learn to curb black-and-white thinking (i.e. recast everyone you meet not as ally or enemy but as a unique individual). Tarantino teaches this through the reversed expectations of the Inglorious Basterds. We cringe as we watch Nazi high society cheer during a propaganda movie that depicts a German soldier picking off Jews one by one. What are we supposed to do when the very next scene depicts a parallel event in which two American spies massacre a theater full of screaming Germans? We realize that we either do not love the Inglorious Basterds as much as we thought we would or that we do love them and should probably think about why.
When expectations are played with, we pay closer attention, challenge our own implicit assumptions and know that whatever happens next will be predictably unpredictable. When you get what you don't expect, expect to be entertained!
