Tarantino in person is both larger and saner than he seems in his films and in his public appearances. He is a polite and enthusiastic host, and he spent part of a July afternoon with me analyzing German cinema of the 1920s, World War II iconography, and the career of Joseph Goebbels, which seems to fascinate Tarantino endlessly. (Goebbels provides one of the most amusing moments in Inglourious Basterds, crying when Hitler praises his latest film. “If Hitler says that this is the greatest movie you’ve ever done, I can see Goebbels getting choked up,” Tarantino said in explaining the scene. “When Harvey Weinstein does that, I get a tear in my eye.”) Tarantino was less thoughtful on the subject of torturing Nazis, but deliberately so. Excessive thoughtfulness, he suggested, is the reason his Jewish friends find most Holocaust movies so exasperating.
“I hate that hand-wringing shit,” he said. He had a revelation in his early 20s, he recalled, when he saw Red Dawn, a Cold War revenge fantasy in which a group of American high-school students, the “Wolverines,” battle Soviet and Central American soldiers who invade Colorado. “The Wolverines capture a soldier, and there’s a little bit of back-and-forth—should we kill him or not—and C. Thomas Howell just blows him away with his shotgun,” Tarantino recalled. “Those are the kind of things you say, ‘That’s exactly what I would do.’ It’s what I want to see, and when I don’t see it, I become frustrated, and then it feels like a movie as opposed to real life.”
He went on, “When you watch all the different Nazi movies, all the TV movies, it’s sad, but isn’t it also frustrating? Did everybody walk into the boxcar? Didn’t somebody do something?”
The recent Ed Zwick movie, Defiance, about a group of Jewish partisans in German-occupied Belarus, featured armed Jews engaging in vigorous self-defense, in a way that most Holocaust movies don’t. Tarantino said he had not seen it. “My guess is, that doesn’t go far enough,” he said. “My guess is that it’s frustrating in a whole different way.”
He is correct that Defiance doesn’t go as far as he would go, but it is something of a corrective, not only to Schindler’s List, which is a story of Christian redemption and Jewish passivity, but to the schmaltz and vulgarity of most Holocaust films, from Jakob the Liar to Life Is Beautiful. The Jews in Defiance kill Nazis, but they periodically stop to debate the merits and drawbacks of killing. When I described this, Tarantino argued that it would have been unrealistic to expect the Jews of Europe to debate the morality of killing Nazis.
I asked Tarantino if he thought the over-the-top violence of the Basterds might offend people. “Why would they condemn me?” he said. “I was too brutal to the Nazis?”
Well, scalping Nazis is a bit … much.
“One of the things that’s interesting to me is equating the Jews in this case with the Indians in a Western,” he said. “Maybe it’s not nothing that I’m 25percent Cherokee Indian. If I go do a movie of Jewish Americans fighting back in World War II, then I equate them with the other race that I am, and I use the Indian battle plan, their methods, to attack the Nazis.”
Eli Roth told me that Tarantino came to his home for Passover just as he was wrestling with the final act of Basterds.
“I was his Jewish sounding board,” Roth said. “‘Would a Jew do this, would a Jew do that?’ He kind of didn’t have an ending. But after the seder, he said, ‘I’m going home to finish.’ He understood that we are still pissedoff about things that happened to us 3,000 years ago. At the end of the seder, we talked about how the Jewish thing was to remember, that there was no absolution.”
The ending Tarantino wrote includes the mass incineration of Nazis and their wives, with Shoshanna screaming “This is the face of Jewish vengeance!,” and the very last scene features one final forehead swastika-carving.
“Why isn’t that all right?” Tarantino asked me, when I noted the cruelty of that final image.
“Well, it’s torture,” I said. “Isn’t torture wrong?”
Ten seconds went by as Tarantino weighed the question.
“He’s a Nazi,” Tarantino said, finally. “They’re giving him a scar. I don’t know if I would even go so far as to call that torture. He’s scarring him. He’s not torturing him. What he’s doing isn’t so ridiculously painful.”
I asked if he’d ever had a swastika carved in his forehead.
“I’m sure it hurts,” he said. But torture, he said, is something different: an attempt to elicit information by inflicting extreme pain. In other words, the pain inflicted by Tarantino’s Jews on the Nazis was inflicted only to terrorize.
My ambivalence about some of the excesses of Inglourious Basterds fully emerged only in the days after our conversation. I had met Tarantino less than 24 hours after I first saw the film. When I came out of the screening room the night before our interview, I was so hopped up on righteous Jewish violence that I was almost ready to settle the West Bank—and possibly the East Bank. But when my blood cooled, I began to think about the morality of kosher porn in the context of current Middle East politics. Some of this was informed by my own experience in the Israeli army, in which I saw my fellow Jewish soldiers do moral things—such as risking their lives to prevent the murder of innocent Jews—as well as immoral things, like beating the hell out of Palestinians because they could.
When Tarantino asked me how I thought his film would be received in Israel—he’s visiting for the first time this summer, to promote the film—I told him that Israelis, who have actual experience with physical power (in a way that most Jews over the course of the past 2,000 years did not), might not take to the film in the way that many of their American cousins might. Some Israeli liberals, including the country’s many filmmakers, might not like his movie very much at all.
Lawrence Bender, Tarantino’s loyal producer, is one of Hollywood’s more famous liberals—he produced the Al Gore climate-change film, An Inconvenient Truth, and he is on the board of the Israel Policy Forum, a left-leaning pro-Israel group. Bender told me he could not view Inglourious Basterds without remembering his own experience with schoolyard anti-Semitism. “I was taunted and thrown into lockers, and I’ve never forgotten it.”
I asked him to place the movie in the current stream of Jewish power politics. “Every time Quentin makes a movie, we’re accused of promoting violence,” he said. “Most people know the difference between real life and the movies. This is a movie. It’s a fantasy. It’s not meant to empower the Jews and speak against the Arabs. But on the other hand, to point out that the Jews have some degree of power today but are living in the middle of a sea of people who are basically saying that they shouldn’t be around? I have zero problem with Jewish empowerment. The whole thing is complicated. At the end of the day, the people in that auditorium”—during the film’s climax—“are Nazis. You kind of feel bad for them because they’re burning to death, but you’re not feeling too much sympathy, even for the Nazi who gets a swastika carved in his head.”
But why risk creating sympathy for Nazis at all? Why have any scene that, in Neal Gabler’s words, “conventionalizes Jews, puts them in the same revenge motif as everyone else”? Tarantino, of course, always goes too far: Sofie Fatale’s cut-off arm in Kill Bill: Vol. 1; the police officer’s sliced-off ear in Reservoir Dogs. I have a high tolerance for violence in Tarantino’s compelling fantasy demimonde. But Inglourious Basterds is the first Tarantino movie to reference real historical events. Which might be why I find his anti-Nazi excesses—there’s a concept—disconcerting. Or it might be because I don’t actually have revenge dreams anymore. They stopped sometime after I left the army, if I remember correctly. Given the chance, of course, I would still shoot Mengele in the face. That would be a moral necessity. But I wouldn’t carve a swastika into his forehead. That just doesn’t sound like the Jewish thing to do.