I can't speak of ambition without laying kudos at the feet of Spike Jonze and what he managed to accomplish with the unenviable task of bringing Where the Wild Things Are to the screen.  Like Wes Anderson with The Fantastic Mr. Fox and Henry Selick with Coraline, Spike Jonze didn't make a "kids film", instead he stayed true to his own vision and ended up making a PG rated Spike Jonze film. Perhaps some years down the line someone could make a successfully cheerier, more kid friendly version of Maurice Sendak's slim bedtime story but I wouldn't trade Jonze's introspective version for a lighter tone. What we have, what Jonze has given us, is nothing short of amazing -- a rabbit hole of a movie into the subconscious of a fatherless latch-key kid trying to come to terms with what it means to be part of a family.

No other film resonated as strong and instantaneously for me as Where the Wild Things Are. The further we got into Max's world, the more my inner 10 year-old was dusted off and awoken. It wasn't without heartache and tears, but seeing this film was truly witnessing the unveiling of an enduring, timeless classic. 

3. Let the Right One In
dir. Tomas Alfredson
This is the first of my cheats. I know most were able to see this one in 2008 but I have to put this film on one list or another so here it is: the best love story I first saw back in January and one of the few movies from this year that I will happily watch again and again and never get tired of. Simply beautiful from the first frame on and its power is so strong due to its innocence and how direct the story is. There's a lot to be said for this adaptation and the many ways it could have gone wrong (and still could due to a thoroughly unnecessary American remake in the works) but refuses to. How the film is able to craft a love story between a 10 year old and a weary vampire trapped in a 10 year old's body is a work of magic that defies cinematic logic and proves that anything really is possible in the world of film if the people behind it believe in it strong enough.

4. A Serious Man
dir. Joel Coen & Ethan Coen
How Joel and Ethan Coen can still manage to surprise and bewilder is one of the current delights in modern cinema. I'd call bluff on anyone who claims to have thought in 1999 that by the end of this decade these guys would still be spinning tales so diverse and fun that you wonder if there's any peak for them to hit or if they'll simply continue to up their game or die trying. The first reason A Serious Man is up at #4 on this list is because it's the funniest movie I've seen this year. The other reasons are why most of the movies the Coens make end up on the best-of lists every year -- they simply embody everything you want from your American auteur. They're masters of the telling visual story and it all feels so effortless that they could be called out for being cold and mechanical if it weren't for the strengths of the stories they tell and this time if feels more personal than ever. A story of spiritual bankruptcy; a man being hung out to dry, flapping in the wind that just gets stronger and stronger and trying to hold on to his slim tether. Watching a man hit brick walls in a struggle to find sense and direction in an unkind world has never been this fun.

5. Antichrist
dir. Lars von Trier
There wasn't a film this year that was more fun to pick apart than Lars von Trier's disturbing, graphic depiction of a woman's decent into homicidal madness. von Trier racks up the tension to unbearable levels as we're left to watch choices are made and actions taken to ensure the inevitable bloody climax (ok, pun kind of intended). A remarkable Wilem Defoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg are He and She, fulfilling prophecy and ending up more as pawns than actual human beings -- letting nature take its course. Defoe's coldly rational psychologist doesn't realize that by using the tricks of his trade he's actually ensuring all the pieces will in place for Gainsbourg's demise. Sometimes the best intentions can kill.

There's a dozen different ways you can go with this one, and that's part of the beauty of it -- a dozen different red herrings. Is it a hate letter to modern therapy? A feminist allegory? Or simply an audacious horror movie with a brain? It's a flawed movie - it tends to be equal parts on-the-nose and inscrutable - but nothing else I watched this year rewarded analysis quite like Antichrist.

6. Hausu
dir. Nobuhiko Obayashi
Here's the second cheat of the list. Obayashi's 1977 logic and reason defying brain bender of a haunted house film is something that has to be seen to be believed. For the lucky folk that gathered together to see a screening at this year's getting-better-every-year Boston Underground Film Festival, we were treated to a great print of this film that time forgot. Obayashi blends together every technical trick at his disposal and employs enough tonal jumps to cause viewer whiplash but added up it equals one of the most original and bizarre movie experiences you can have. There's enough playful energy in Hausu for ten movies -- it's bursting at the seams with ideas. You wouldn't think that the story of a group of girls getting picked off one by one by a cursed house would result in something so unique and yet there hasn't been and will never be another film like Hausu. It starts out like some technicolor musical and ends like a morbid melodrama and hits just about everything in between. Where else will you see death by carnivorous piano?

7. Up
dir. Pete Doctor & Bob Peterson
I don't recall a better year for animated film. Up, Coraline and Fantastic Mr. Fox all provided unique personal visions of timeless stories. Both Up and Coraline expertly utilized 3-D to enhance their stories and Coraline may have done a better job at using this technology, but Up is an example of superior storytelling. The "life with Ellie" montage has been talked about all year, and rightfully so. It's a beautifully devastating piece of filmmaking that is one of the best 5 minutes of any movie this year. It also happens to be surrounded by some pretty great stuff. There's perverse pleasure in having the best adventure story of the year star Ed Asner -- even if it is just his voice. Up proves a movie can be inspirational, uplifting, heartwarming and even cute and not be the least bit corny or pandering. It can still be one of the best movies of the year.  It also happens to be the best Blu-ray I've come across -- a two disc affair that really puts all the possibilities of the format to use.

8. Life During Wartime
dir. Todd Solondz
The distribution for Solondz's last couple films have been lacking at best. It would be a shame if his most mature and accomplished film would end up unceremoniously dumped on DVD. Life During Wartime is an accumulation of everything Solondz has done leading up to it. He proves that his experiment with re-casting characters can work wonders and actually contribute to his story rather than distract. Ciaran Hinds, Ally Sheedy, Paul Reubens and Allison Janney all pick up where the other actors in Happiness left off and each one does some of the best work of their careers. Especially effective is Hinds, an unknown to me who creates his own damaged version of Bill (originally played by Dylan Baker in Happiness), who goes looking for his son upon getting released from prison -- worried that his now college aged boy may have inherited some of his worst qualities. It's a profound examination of forgiveness, family and those dark corners of the human psyche that no one finds humor and humanity in quite like Solondz. And if anything proves Solondz's growth as a writer/director it is that humanity -- there's more peace love and understanding to Life During Wartime than his previous work. Plus, the film looks better than anything he's done.

9. White Stripes Under the Great Norther Lights
dir. Emmett Malloy
Speaking of looking great, the black and white (and sometimes color) footage of the White Stripes let's-hit-all-the-Canadian-territories tour of 2007 is gorgeous stuff to soak in. But what comes as a surprise is how meditative the film is on the integral relationship between Jack and Meg White. The live footage, which there is plenty of, sounds great and carries a fantastic intensity and impressively enough the footage of their seemingly subliminal conversations carry a certain intensity as well. It's a one-of-a-kind musical relationship these two have and you realize that their chemistry is what drives the music and each member is of equal importance in its success. There's a tender exploration of the Meg/Jack dynamic throughout the film that culminates in a final tune played by Jack at the piano, with Meg at his side. Meg is moved to tears and so was I.

10. Inglorious Basterds
dir. Quentin Tarantino
This one knocked socks off in the theater. Watching it at home, the power of the individual scenes still hold up even if it doesn't all gel together as best as it should. Christoph Waltz deserves the accolades and his likely Oscar for his performance as The Jew Hunter, Hans Landa. The film is a great success for Tarantino -- a confident step forward and a helluva fun love note to the power of cinema.

11. The Brothers Bloom
dir. Rian Johnson
It wasn't the follow-up to Brick that everyone was hoping for, but I loved Johnson's con men fable. It's clear Johnson is in love with the art of directing and that love has found its way into every inch of this film. One brother setting up the long-con to end all long-cons, a game that ends up with the other brother finding love, is all an ode to the most romantic aspects of cinema -- of making dreams come alive and making sure the actors hit their mark.

12. Timecrimes
dir. Nacho Vigalondo
My last cheat of the list is this Rod-Serling-on-a-speed-binge piece of time traveling madness. Officially released in 2007 or 2008, this one finally made an appearance in the Boston area at the very beginning of the year. Eleven months later it remains one of the most entertaining 90 minutes I spent in a theater. Like an awesome microscopic version of Back to the Future Part 2, Timecrimes piles on every time-travel related paradox you can fit into a story and somehow manages, unlike BTTF2, to wrap it all up and an extremely satisfying way. It's the rare movie that rewards your attention to detail and even if you can predict some of the twists before they happen you'll still love it when it does. 

13. World's Greatest Dad
dir. Bob Goldthwait
If comedy got any darker than the kind that Goldthwait serves up, it would be the bleakest, most pathos filled material this side of Mike Leigh. How World's Greatest Dad gets filled with some rather despicable characters and still manages to avoid being mean or nasty is a testament to Goldthwait's skills at creating his own off-beat tone and sticking with it and making it ring so wonderfully honest. Goldthwait has yet to get his proper dues but if he keeps making movies as good as this, he won't be ignored for much longer. Sure the film is about the death of a fuck-up of a kid which is played more or less for laughs, but World's Greatest Dad has more of a social conscious than most of the movies that came out this year.

14. Chocolate
dir. Prachya Pinkaew
Just when I though the kung-fu movie may have nowhere else to go but downward in quality, Chocolate comes around a sets a new standard for ass-kicking set pieces and death defying stunts. The plot is little more than an excuse for these amazing fight sequences and the first ten minutes is misleadingly crappy but making a hero out of an autistic tomboy beanpole is a stroke of genius. Pinkaew has raised the bar so high with Chocolate that Tony Jaa's Ong Bak 2 (the first Ong Bak was directed by Pinkaew) paled a bit in comparison.

15. Symbol
dir. Hitoshi Matsumoto
[Spoilers follow] Symbol is a great example of a follow-up gone right. Matsumoto's Big Man Japan was full of promise and with Symbol he delivers on all that and ups his own ante. More imaginative, funnier and more unpredictable than Big Man Japan, Symbol offers up a bizarre premise on who controls the universe and how that person gets picked for the job it involves cherub penises being used like light-switches, naturally). It's mostly hilarious and Matsumoto proves to be in league with the great physical comedians of our time. He still has a tendency to get repetitious but with Symbol you're too busy enjoying the ride and wondering what's going to happen next to complaint.

So there you have it.  In the spirit of full disclosure, here's my list of shame -- films unforgivably left unwatched by the time of this posting: The Hurt Locker, Moon, Julia, The Headless Woman, In the Loop, District 9. Don't worry, I feel suitably full of guilt.

There's an old adage that, depending on what quote you come across, anywhere from 60% to 99% of directing is casting. In the case of Where the Wild Things Are, a story where there is but one boy who's in every scene and more often then not is the only human face around, casting indeed plays a big part in the film's success. Spike Jonze is a smart director though, and the attention he paid to finding the right voices for the diverse cast of non-humans the boys spends the majority of the time interacting with is also praiseworthy. While attention to detail is one of Jonze's strongest attributes, Where the Wild Things Are manages to be a creation of such ingenuity and style it goes to places that will surprise even the most devout Jonze acolyte.

I should say up front that I'm not particularly familiar with this film's source material. Going in, I knew the story was more or less about some kid who runs off to an imaginary land to become king of the monsters for a day. Aside from that it's really just those drawings, the images from Maurice Sendak's book that stick with me the most. If I'd ever read the book it would have been over 20 years ago. So what struck me immediately, what seemed like a small revelation at the time, is that this isn't a story about some 5 or 6 year old kid playing make-believe. I'm not sure what the age of the boy in the book is suppose to be, but I never thought of him as being the pre-teen the boy of the film is. In making that distinction and focusing on it, Jonze has created a wonderful window into that transitional period of life when you start to leave the teddy bears behind and the imaginary world starts to take a backseat to the real world.

The boy's name is Max (both in the character and the actor) and when we first meet him, Max is building forts and longing to be acknowledged by his family, which consists of his older sister and single mom. If there's a significant fault to the film it's that these early scenes are a bit rushed and forced but there's some magic in these moments as well. Even in a 5 second look through a window as his sister ignores his plea for attention, there's a soulfulness to Max Records' performance that is remarkable. Catherine Keneer plays Max's mom and with the help of Records and Jonze she elevates the "juggling work and kids" scenes and they somehow seem fresh. And when she brings home Mark Ruffalo for diner and Max rebels and ends up biting his mom in a fit of playful anger, it's a chaotic, tense instant. Shocked that he actually hurt her, he runs away, down the street and just like that ends up in a Never Never Land of sorts. 

Max finds a small boat that looks similar to a handmade one he was playing with earlier. He hops aboard and drifts for a while before hitting rough waters that drop him off on an island. He climbs up the face of a cliff and comes across a group of wild things (no not Denise Richards and Neve Campbell -- wait, sorry, that joke got old quick didn't it?) -- furry seven-foot tall monsters with horns, claws and insecurities in the process of breaking apart their individual homes (cool looking pods intricately woven out of branches). Rather than making a transition in these scenes to sunshiny colors and eye-popping sets a la Wizard of Oz, the film instead goes green. As in dirt, earth and nature -- organic. You can almost smell the topsoil, dirty fingernails and matted hair that makes up a large part of the production design. 

From this point on, up until a small coda, we're immersed in kid logic and watching Max learn how to be king of the monsters and the pitfalls inherent with such a duty. Or rather, how Max learns how to make his monsters happy and co-exist. Where the Wild Things Are, in being so much about what it means to be 9 or 10 years old, acts out the process of growing up by trial and error. Max learns that problems can't be solved by fighting -- even pretend fighting with dirt clods, selfishness and jealousy can ruin friendships and it takes understanding, patience and forgiveness to make a family work. Big themes for a movie based on a 300 word book that was aimed at kids. There's a whiff of a psychoanalytical experiment being played out here but that scent is drowned out by the amazing sights and sounds on display and the fact that cinema very rarely or accurately puts you into the mind of a child Max's age.

Which gets at the question many have wondered, Who is this movie for? There's even been a reappraisal done on who it is that really likes the original book these days. I think you'll end up with close to the same answers on both those questions. Kids might be haunted by the film's look -- in good ways and bad as no one's seen anything quite like this film and some of the "monsters" here border on grotesque -- while the morals of the story might breeze right over their heads (hilariously, some of the morals of the story breezed right over the heads of watchdog critics who can't get over the fact that our protagonist runs away after biting his mom). Those eager to see the drawings come to life are likely those of Jonze's own generation and already fans of his earlier work and will no doubt appreciate what he's done here. Just as the book was made with a certain amount of nostalgia by Sendak and I believe that anyone with a fond memory of their bygone youthful imagination will find what Herzog would refer to as an Ecstatic Truth in Jonze's vision.

I don't recall a more profound look at the age of 8-10 than Where the Wild Things Are. ET comes to mind. There are some other films dealing with a child's loss of a pet, Radio Flyer dealt with using imagination to escape an abusive parent, but none dig as deep as this film does to explore what makes a ten year old mind tick and so fully bring to life the way it reasons and can emotionally turn on a dime. The movie celebrates this slippery mental state, embraces it a uses it to create a story full of leaps in logic and fragile characters.

We quickly learn that these monsters Max meets on the island he is dropped off on are in desperate need of a king -- someone to give them order, bring them together as a family, protect them and bring them happiness. To Max this means: building the best fort ever during the day and sleeping in a big pile at night. But in keeping all these personalities in harmony isn't easy. There's seven monsters, seven personalities, seven different aspects of Max's identity. Carol (voiced by James Gandolfini) is the fun-all-the-time monster and bonds quickly with Max as he represents the part of Max that got him into the trouble that sent him running; Judith (Catherine O'Hara) and Ira (Forest Whitaker) represent the traditional parents; Alexander (Paul Dano) is the insecure, self-conscious, meek monster; Douglas (Chris Cooper) is enabler; KW (Lauren Ambrose) is the elusive, mysteriously desirable female monster; and The Bull... well The Bull is just vaguely menacing. It doesn't take long for Max to get called out on playing favorites with Carol and jealousy, selfishness and eventually paranoia keep Max and the monsters from ever finding true harmony. But as Judith tells Max, "Happiness isn't always the best way to be happy." It's a hard pill to swallow, but Max learns that being part of his family means he isn't king and he may need to make compromises for the greater good. When you're Max's age, part of growing up means realizing that while you may be the center of your universe, you're not the center of the universe. While he spends the movie figuring out the role these different monsters play in his kingdom, he comes to realize how Max fits into the kingdom that is his family.

I mentioned that there has never been anything that's looked quite like Where the Wild Things Are and I hope other future films will take a cue from it. More often than not, this is how special effects should be used -- to enhance practical effects. These monsters have a weight and a soul to them because first and foremost there are these amazing furry suits with people walking around in them. It is still a wonder that Records gives the anchoring performance he does, but there's not a doubt in my mind he was able to do it because of those costumes. There's caked-in dirt on their fur, snot under their noses and tears in their eyes and it's a wonder to behold. I don't know how they managed it, but the special effects are used sparingly and to make the experience more realistic rather than distracting and soulless.

Very few films come out in the course of a year that make me want to jump right back into their world. But in writing this and considering all the different details, metaphors and motivations, I can't help but feel the pull to spend more time with them. There's deep waters in this film and the more you think about it the deeper it gets. For instance, there are hints of the outside world's influence on Max's world - the passage of time and weather seem to seep through at times and the two locations in his world, the woods and the desert (and the ocean) are likely clues to where Max was hiding when he acted out this fantasy. It's simply a perfect movie to get lost in and I'm eager to head back.

My first semester of film school was in 1995, when Quentin Tarantino had a firm stranglehold on the imaginations of every would-be future auteur between the ages of 16 to 23.  He was about as cool as you got back then, but that was at a time when there was some mystery to the man behind Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction (not to mention True Romance and Natural Born Killers).  In the years since then it's practically become fashionable to label the guy's work immature and peg him with a lack of restraint or decent editing capabilities and paying far too much attention to his pet obsessions.  He's given plenty of ammo for these accusations, and to be certain there's some truth to be had in them as well.  There's no doubt he's a foot fetishist obsessed with violence, revenge, general badassery and the rhythm of his own dialog, just to name a few.  I understand that some of these things can get in the way of telling a story and a lot of people might point to Death Proof, his half of the Grindhouse experiment, as proof positive of his shortcomings as a meaningful writer/director or that he is becoming increasingly indebted to these limited themes and predillictions to the detriment of his films. I can understand all these criticisms but I can't exactly abide by them.

And for almost as long as the backlash has been brewing, there's been rumor of his World War II project -- his men on a mission film, Inglourious Basterds.  At one point it was to feature a collection of every A-list action star still breathing (kind of like the Expendables project Stallone is working on now) alongside against-type casting like Adam Sandler and Jack Black.  Signs pointed to a movie about a group of ass-kickers kicking Nazi ass, getting out of scrapes and doing it all with Tarantino's patented cool.  Charting the path that this screenplay likely took over the past 10+ years would be an interesting look at how he's become less interested in simply reveling in the things he finds cool and instead deconstructing them.  Even the Basterds of the title, now a small group of unimposing, scalping proficient Jewish soldiers (really the exact opposite of your typical action heroes), are more the back-up singers here than the main attraction, despite being led by Brad Pitt's Aldo Raine.  The real star is "Jew Hunter" Hans Landa -- think impossibly charming evil Nazi Sherlock Holmes -- and his prey, Shosanna, the girl who got away.  But perhaps more surprising is that Inglourious Basterds is not only the most entertaining movie of the year but it  also manages to be the savviest and most personal of his films.   

Maybe it's because I don't mind an indulgent director when the themes and fetishes are as entertaining as Tarantino's.  Maybe I can overlook the (seeming) lack of a delicate touch when the end result still manages to resonate and create intricately detailed worlds I'm happy to get caught up in.  Inglourious Basterds, perhaps more than any other film, is a perfect deconstruction of what Tarantino is great at.  You have a woman (Shosanna) being given a shot at revenge on the one hand, a group of badassmotherfuckers (the Basterds) doing their dirty deeds on the other and at its center you have the enigmatic villain (Hans Landa, played with relish by Christoph Waltz in what is sure to be an Oscar nominated performance).  This time these archetypes of Tarantinism are given their own separate attention until the grand finale.  And for once, a film by Quentin Tarantino is given a payoff worthy of the build-up.  A pay-off that raises some questions, but ultimately succeeds through sheer audaciousness and masterful execution.  Not since Barton Fink has hellfire consumed so vividly on film.

A trait that can also grind on some is Tarantino's relentless fanboy pastiche modus operandi.  This can go hand in hand with his so-called immaturity since the claim is that rather than construct original scenes to form a unique vision, he makes movie quilts out of scenes, music and ideas from his vast encyclopedic knowledge of semi-obscure genre films.  Oddly enough, for a film that lifted its title wholesale from a lesser-known Italian produced b-movie from the 70s, Inglourious Basterds feels wholly original and decidedly more personal than, well, just about anything he's done.  The movie has its share of hat-tips, most noticeably in the recycled music cues he loves to use, but his love for film, language and violence emerges in Basterds in a much more honest and sohphisticated way than any genre mash-up.  In Basterds, film is what brings people from around the world together, it's a common language, one of the most powerful tools available, can bring the dead back to life and ultimately, in Tarantino's universe, can defeat even the most powerful of evils and change the course of history.

Yes, through the power of film, a Jewish French farm girl hiding out as a German theater owner and a motley crew of nebbish cutthroats bring down the Third Reich.  And this is what will always have me coming back to Quentin Tarantino's work -- while some might say he's frustratingly underdeveloped, to me, he is one of the most unpredictable filmmakers out there.  When he is working from his own story, there is no telling where it's going to take you.  You might be able to guess what some of the pieces are going to be -- that there will be some lengthy soliloquies, bursts of violence usually preceded or followed by those borrowed music cues -- but you never know who's going to live or die, if the film's even going to be mostly in English or even if history as we know it will be adhered to.  And those soliloquies are still killer.  Basterds proves the man's skill at being able to ratchet up the tension with next to nothing but well timed dialog.  The scenes with Hans Landa top even those great Ordell moments in Jackie Brown where Sam Jackson took his time sweet talking you into the trunk of a car.

If there's one thing Quentin Tarantino loves more than film, it would be language.  Like the naked toes of a pretty girl, the man fetishizes the spoken word.  And for the first time, with Inglourious Basterds, he takes that  obsession of his to the next level and makes it part of the film.  Tarantino has taken great pride in making a WWII film that not only features actors speaking in the language their characters are supposed to speak in but makes nationality, accents and the delicacy of language itself an important part of the story.  If he did set out to make a film that would render it impossible for another WWII film to serve up a bunch of vaguely British sounding actors, I think he's succeeded (the second weekend box office tally will be a better look at how receptive mainstream American audiences are to a largely subtitled American movie).  Attention to dialect indeed makes the espionage all the more suspenseful even when an ignorant American like myself can barely tell the difference between an Austrian and German accent.  It makes Brad Pitt's oddball Tennesseean accent, which has found its objectors, all the more sweetly perverse.  His performance reminded me in more than one way of Marlon Brando, who was always quite playful with his vocal performances.

Pitt's performance, and really all the performances across the board are fantastic.  Pitt is clearly having fun with the role and while that might rub some the wrong way, there is a fascinating quality to his creation that makes you want to inspect closer.  Part Brando, part Clark Gable, part John Wayne, Aldo Raine (along with the rest of the Basterds) doesn't represent any sort of complexity in human nature but rather the opposite.  The Basterds are bullets let loose in Europe for one purpose and Pitt lets his recruits know what that purpose is early on and that there's no room for second guessing.  It's what makes WWII the ideal setting for this story; there's no fuzziness when it comes to taking down Nazis.  Hans Landa is no different in his mission.  He's just as good at his job as the Basterds are at theirs, and he revels in knowing this and toying with his prey like a cat with a mouse.  He doesn't doubt for a second what his role in the war is.  Christoph Waltz and Tarantino have created one of the most charismatic villains I can recall and he's pure joy to watch on the screen as he goes about his business. When he crosses paths again with Shosanna, years later after her escape, it's when it quickly dawns on her that her purpose in life is now to bring this guy down.  Melanie Laurent gives Shosanna wonderful vulnerability and continues Tarantino's winning streak in creating brilliant female roles for actresses to shine in.  Her conflict with a German soldier who takes a liking to her and her movie theater represents the only real moral fuzziness in the film but its significant and Laurent beautifully carries the emotional weight of Shosanna's situation through to the end of the film and beyond.  Her story will certainly be a feather in Tarantino's cap for a long time to come.

Tarantino is still making films where just one particular scene or a couple minutes of screen time for an actor can make a lasting impression.  Just as no scene in this film isn't without caring detail, neither is any character.  While I'd have loved seeing more background on the individual Bastards, it's a great kick to see BJ Novack (Ryan from the Office!) and Samm Levine (Neal from Freaks & Geeks!) kicking Nazi ass and taking scalps even if we don't get a back story.  Again, their Nazi's, you don't really need much of an excuse to want to kill them.  But when I think of those amazing one scene roles I think of everyone involved in the rendezvous gone wrong scene, especially Diane Kruger as Bridgette von Hammersmark, who's role as the actress in over her head is actually quite significant, and August Deihl as the unwelcome rendezvous crasher, Major Hellstrom, the guy who smells a rat. I've never seen anyone drink from a glass boot with quite the menace Deihl manages to pull off.  And Denis Menochet should get special mention as the dairy farmer who gets put to the question by Hans Landa in the amazing 20 minute opener.  These minor but major roles have a long tradition of greatness in the Tarantino universe going back to half the amazing cast of True Romance.

For all of the attention Tarantino has gotten for the words he puts in people's mouths (and those that come out of his), there really can't be enough said about how adept he's become at visually piecing his scenes together.  At times I can find his desire to break his movies into chapters a bit of a misstep since it can often defuse momentum and give you the feeling that you're constantly re-starting rather than getting deeper into the story.  But I didn't have that problem at all with Basterds.  Each chapter, aside from the odd Mike Myers extended cameo scene (which I did find pretty amusing), fell right into place for me and I found myself anticipating the chapters and looking forward to the next one rather than being let down by the transitions.  Basterds, more than any of his other films, really does feel novelistic in its structure which makes the film unfold in a way that can come off as slight but actually is nicely layered and well-executed.  Shooting scenes that are 90% dialog and making them crackle and snap isn't the easiest of feats and in all these "talky" scenes leading up to the finale you can see the motivation behind each cut and find purpose in every lingering shot and movement of the camera. What he has done to bring the tension and humor out of these scenes, especially the stunning opening confrontation between Hans and the man hiding Shosanna and her family and the ill-fated rendezvous scene between the Basterds and Bridget von Hammersmark, is simply masterful from top to bottom -- from sound and set design to the wonderful acting.  He's crafted scenes so finely tuned that the moment they were over I couldn't wait to go back to them and pick apart the details.

The violence that spawns from these confrontational scenes felt much more in tune with the story and plot than usual.  I have no problem enjoying the excesses of Kill Bill (looking forward to that "The Whole Bloody Affair" Blu-ray, should be a doozy) but I felt the individual acts of violence in Basterds meant more, they have a specificity to them and carried a certain weight.  There are some cut-aways to the Basterds in action that are there for no more reason than to jolt the audience a bit and flesh-out their escapades but the acts that the Basterds do carry out on the Nazis are specific.  They scalp them for a reason, not necessarily because it's simply a badass/fucked-up thing to do.  Aldo Raine is quite proud of his native American lineage and not only that but it is indeed the sort of thing that would strike fear into the heart of any man who came across one of their victims.  Or take the rendezvous at the German pub that breaks down into a small massacre - a flurry of violence that unfolds in the blink of an eye.  Yet each action that takes place is clearly taken into full consideration as to what that character would do with their last second of life.  The same can be said for the final sequences as well (which I will refrain from going into detail about).  Each action that takes place is story driven and cathartic for both the audience and the character involved.

This kind of detail that Quentin Tarantino puts into all his films is so attractive to me.  He makes films about things he obsesses over that give ample material for audiences to in turn obsess over.  The level of artistry that goes into the story and technique behind his films, especially Inglourious Basterds, makes claims of immaturity ridiculous.  I'd be mighty surprised if another film comes along this year that generates the same kind of electricity that was bouncing around through the audience that I saw this with or provides the same level of excitement and sheer entertainment that got me buzzing as I left the theater.  But I wouldn't be surprised if Tarantino manages to pulls it off again down the road.  At this point, I would only be surprised if he didn't.