Introduction
Cinema and cultural memory have a reciprocal relationship. Films draw on history, and, at the same time, offer new perspectives on memory and history. Several studies on the traumatic past and the problems with its representations have examined several “historical” movies, including those made by Steven Spielberg and Oliver Stone.12345 The literature on the relationship between cinema, memory, and history mainly focused on the “ethics”, “authenticity” and “representation”. Modernism approaches the past as if it is something that is fixed, permanent and inflexible. Therefore, it is not surprising that many historical films such as Holocaust films focus on the veracity and consistency of its representation. However, according to Thomas Austin, the past is a function of texts that are built over time and thus does not have an intrinsic reality and value. Consequently, alternate histories and universes can be created, and it is unavoidable that the current perspective will modify the past. And the ability to reshape the past as an element of our social consciousness would not be surprising from a postmodern lens. Therefore, cinema redefines the past in the cultural memory rather than narrating it as it actually happened. Inglourious Basterds (Tarantino 2009) is therefore a noteworthy production because of its alternative storytelling, allusions to the Holocaust movies and its handling of how this cinematic memory affects audiences and cultural memory. Since Tarantino is a filmmaker who enjoys using parody and making references to the history of cinema, his movies can serve as excellent cases for tracing the conventions of the genre.
In his films from 2009 to 2019, such as Inglourious Basterds (2009), Django Unchained (2012), and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019), Quentin Tarantino addresses historical eras that are imprinted in popular culture but portrays them with alternate endings, altering the course of history. In these movies, Tarantino puts the narrative at the center of historical-traumatic eras, themes, and events including World War II, the Nazis, the Holocaust, the American Civil War, slavery, and the Tate-LaBianca murder. However, this time the Manson family members are the ones killed instead of Sharon Tate and her companions, Jews kill Adolf Hitler and Blacks kill slave owner Whites. As a result, his films cannot solely be treated as historical. They open up discussions about how the past is represented in movies and whether this representation is true or ethical. Furthermore, it can even be said that these movies purposefully address the question of whether movies are capable of representing the past and even can be held accountable for doing so, or if they only reveal how history and memory are produced. This study demonstrates that understanding the past is framed by the ideologies and viewpoints of reminiscer—both the filmmakers and the audience. New methods of remembering can be created, particularly using films.
Historically, the damage that followed the World Wars has had an impact on modernism’s goals. It has been questioned whether history and progress, the pursuit of the unchanging truth, mobilization for a stronger and more evolved society, and the notion that “new is good” are all valid or not. The core of postmodern thought is this departure from overarching stories and supreme ideals. Postmodern perspective proposes that the world is diverse, unstable and undetermined. As a result, modernist ideas and grand narratives like enlightenment and progress are no longer relevant. According to Lyotard, modernism’s aspirations have been dashed and metanarratives can no longer be sustained.
From this perspective, many of Tarantino’s movies might be considered as anti-metanarratives due to the unrelated historical elements and concepts he combines. Tarantino’s works are recognized for their heavy use of intertextuality, particularly when alluding to other films. His films are frequently considered as celebrations of the medium itself because of his reputation for having an affection for cinematic history. For instance, Pulp Fiction (1994) has references to film noir, spaghetti westerns, and French New Wave as well as tributes to films like The Killing (Kubrick 1956) and The Big Sleep (Hawks 1946). Similarly Kill Bill (2003) was influenced by spaghetti westerns, samurai movies, and martial arts films. When it comes to intertextuality, Tarantino’s movies are frequently viewed as postmodernist pieces that reinterpret preexisting cultural sources to convey a new meaning. Rather than simply copying or imitating other films, Tarantino’s use of intertextuality is characterized by a playful and ironic self-awareness. He subverts genre conventions, tropes and creates unexpected narrative twists that challenge audience expectations. But do the disparate stories and intertextual elements that have been combined in his films lack purpose and hence make no reference to reality? Or are they an attempt to create a new language by dissolving the conventional story structures within themselves? It is crucial to first recall the primary debates regarding the postmodern narrative in order to comprehend what Tarantino’s movies are about.
Postmodernism and its motives are examined by Fredric Jameson within the context of “late capitalism.” According to Jameson, modern artists work within a cultural landscape that has already been thoroughly colonized and commodified by the forces of late capitalism. He argues that the dominant cultural forms and styles of late capitalism have already exhausted possible innovations and new worlds, leaving contemporary artists with very little room for genuine creativity and innovation. In this context, modern artists face a dilemma: they must either perpetuate the existing dominant forms and styles, or attempt to break free from these structures in order to create something truly new and innovative. However, Jameson argues that even attempts to break free from dominant structures are inevitably shaped and limited by those very structures, making it difficult for modern artists to create something truly original.
The “pastiche” and “nostalgia” are thus the most distinctive concepts of the postmodern era. Jameson believes that although nostalgia films are set in the past and are about the past, they do not properly represent the past. The referred history is indeed modified, and it is eliminated from memory. In addition, Jameson refers to pastiches as a postmodern aesthetic form that involves the borrowing and mixing of different styles and genres from the past, without any attempt to create a coherent or unified whole. According to him, in a postmodern society where everything has been commodified and turned into a spectacle, there is no longer any real history or tradition to draw upon. Jameson’s critique of pastiche also suggests that this celebration of intertextuality can also be seen as a symptom of a cultural crisis, in which originality and authenticity have lost their value, and works of art are evaluated based on their ability to make reference to, and recycle existing cultural forms. If Tarantino’s filmography is examined from Jameson’s point of view, the majority of his works can be seen as nostalgia pieces in which he imitates old westerns and samurai movies with revenge plots. Therefore, from this perspective, it could be claimed that he simply makes the past meaningless and he is unable to capture his own temporality.
However, Linda Hutcheon opposes Jameson’s theories in her works, and instead uses the terms parody and historiographic metafiction to further describe the postmodern attempt to reinterpret the past. Parody does not relate to an incompetent imitation of earlier works. It is a position that allows for critical distance. Ironically, parodies provoke criticism by containing what they oppose and exposing the conflicts. It is important to note that Hutcheon and Jameson concur that the postmodern worldview has a critical approach. The difference is that Jameson contends that the postmodern understanding cannot comprehend its own temporality because it is a direct replica of a past that no longer exists since he believes the subject is dead and the pursuit for the unique voice has come to an end. On the other hand, Hutcheon asserts that the postmodern perspective can reinterpret history, draw connections between the past and present, and bring new critical powers to the medium, as opposed to dehistoricizing the present or copying earlier artworks. In other words, according to Hutcheon, the subject is alive and actively seeks to connect the past, present, and future.
Films as an art form are likewise impacted by this postmodern perspective. “Hybrid” genres have started to take the place of “pure” genres in cinema, and intertextuality has started to take over movies. Tarantino’s films can be utilized to grasp how films can deal with memory and history with a postmodern understanding because of his fame for fusing diverse genres, concepts, and themes together as well as his passion for using intertextuality and making references to popular culture. It is also necessary to first comprehend the cultural memory created by the conventions of these genres through a review of the literature in order to comprehend the contrasts and similarities between Tarantino’s film and the genre conventions that he refers to.
By engaging with items, artifacts, anniversaries, holidays, and symbols, societies generate metaphors that serve as triggers for cultural memory. Cinema, in this regard, stands out as a place that contributes to cultural memory. Collectively consuming the audio-visual language employed in movies aids the reproduction of reality in cultural memory through the symbols it carries. Inglourious Basterds distorts cultural memory and changes the connotations of a horrifying historical imagery. The Holocaust and World War II appear as stories that have been shown frequently in film history and have established their own conventions through the employment of standardized storytelling techniques. Millions of people have seen these movies, and this has shaped cultural memory. The crucial point is that no matter whether a viewer has personally witnessed the event or not, the cultural memory created by the films belongs to everyone who has watched them. In addition to serving as a record of events, movies also serve as a reminder of them and a forum for discussion. People frequently bring up images from movies, television shows, and photographs when discussing the Holocaust. Therefore, it is challenging to talk about a cultural memory that has not yet been mediated by images. And such images are more widely disseminated today thanks to computers and search engines; they now belong to everyone and can be quickly and easily recalled.
History and Conventions of Cinematic Holocaust Memory
Cinema not only sheds light on the past with its repetitious narratives and imagery, but it also obscures memories by leaving out certain aspects. In this regard, the Holocaust serves as an illustrative example. There are several movies claiming that they accurately depict the Holocaust, despite the fact that most people who experienced it died, very few survivors are alive today, and there are not many on-the-site visual records of what happened inside the concentration camps. The representation of the Holocaust in several of these movies, such as Schindler’s List (Spielberg 1993) and Son of Saul (Nemes 2015), has already been criticized by some scholars. The topics on which these debates take place and how they relate to the history of the Holocaust movies will be discussed later in this section. It is important to comprehend how the cinematic memory of the Holocaust has evolved through time in order to comprehend what type of cultural memory Tarantino manipulates in his film Inglourious Basterds.
Eric Langenbacher makes a distinction between “German-centered,” “pluralist,” and “Holocaust-centered” memory narratives in the history of the Holocaust. Between 1945 and 1960, German suffering was the central topic. Then, the German-centered narrative decreased, and multiple memories of Nazi victims from the 1950s and 1970s arose. The Holocaust also started to be mentioned in stories after the 1970s. And ever since the 1990s, the Holocaust and the history of World War II era-Germany have become practically synonymous. However, as of 2002, a German-centric perspective has once again gained popularity.
In addition, Elsaesser marks significant milestones in Holocaust representations. The Nuremberg Trials in 1945–1946 and the Frankfurt Auschwitz Trials in 1963–1965 were the two major trials that received extensive coverage in the German press from 1945 until the end of 1960. The trials were both publicized and given new meaning by the media. A judicial witnessing perspective, where victims and perpetrators are lined against one and other before a court, was used. Filmed evidence from American military photographers was utilized in the trials and screened for the jurors, defendants, and attorneys. The methodical slaughter of the Jews was not the main plot of the films or the focus of public discussion, though, as such footages were from labor camps where political prisoners and forced laborers from conquered nations like France were imprisoned. In terms of referring to the Holocaust as a Jewish trauma, the period after the Eichmann trial in the early 1960s was significant. The trial brought the horrors of the Holocaust to the forefront of public consciousness and emphasized the Jewish experience of the Holocaust. It led to a greater recognition of the suffering of Jewish victims and helped establish the Holocaust as a defining event in Jewish history. In terms of cinematic conventions, the Holocaust has often been portrayed through images of mass death, physical suffering, and dehumanization, which can be difficult to watch and can be triggering for survivors and their families. Stacks of dead bodies, weakened faces, soulless eyes staring behind wire fences, and decaying corpses became the foundation of Holocaust cinematic conventions.
Later, few Polish feature films were produced, including Ostatni Etap (The Last Stop or The Last Stage) (Jakubowska 1947), which was partially filmed in sites at Auschwitz. The Last Stop served as a pivotal model for Holocaust movies. The director had the actors reenact the scenes. Some of these actors were previous locals who had recently returned from the warzone which can be read as an attempt to enhance the authenticity. The arrival of the train, the unloading of the wagons, the glare of searchlights, dirt, humiliation, and brutal punishments are only a few of the Holocaust film conventions that are present in this film. The Last Stop‘s nighttime train arrival scene can be seen in other movies including The Pawnbroker (Lumet 1964), Sophie’s Choice (Pakula 1982) and Schindler’s List (Spielberg 1994) and it is also mentioned in Night and Fog (Resnais 1955).
The Holocaust (Chomsky 1978) TV miniseries was another significant trademark. 120 million people have watched it, and it has helped to preserve the Holocaust in American cultural memory. The Holocaust was this time referred to as a Jewish event in the narrative, which features both fictitious and historical personalities as characters. Moreover, since the release of this miniseries, it has become the standard practice for Holocaust narratives to tell the entire tale through the perspective of a single family, thus so condensing the scope of the Holocaust.
Schindler’s List (Spielberg 1993), according to Alan Mintz, has become “an event”. Schindler’s List occupies a much greater position in and has an influence on the discussions about the Holocaust than other movies and representations do. Understanding the narration techniques employed in Schindler’s List is important because the film is a landmark in the representation of the Holocaust on screen. It was one of the well known films to bring the Holocaust to a mainstream audience and it had a significant impact on how subsequent films approached the topic. Still to this day, when people think of the Holocaust, many can recall certain sequences from The Schindler’s List. The film’s narration techniques, including the use of black and white cinematography, handheld cameras, and a focus on individual experiences, have been widely analyzed and discussed in film studies. They have been credited with helping to create a sense of realism and immediacy, as well as emphasizing the personal experiences of the characters. Therefore it is important to comprehend the narration techniques employed in Schindler’s List before discussing how Tarantino references Holocaust movies in Inglourious Basterds, redefines the power dynamic between perpetrators and victims in his film, and uses visual references to reshape the meaning of the Holocaust that has been constructed throughout the history of Holocaust cinema.
Spielberg’s decision to use black and white in Schindler’s List was a successful strategy to match them with the rare, authentic camp images. Because Schindler’s List appears to be a repaired print, it is understandable why the sequences from the movie have become ingrained in audience’s cultural memory given the scarcity of the original images. Additionally, Spielberg used real locations in Poland to shoot the movie. Using the original photos as a guide, he reconstructed the camps as“the same.” The majority of the extras who worked in the film were Polish nationals. Moreover, he hired European and Israeli actors who were not very well known at the time in Hollywood for the lead roles (such as Schindler and Goeth). These decisions, as well as Spielberg’s disclosure of them to the public, increased the success of the reenactment the movie generated.
Schindler’s List, according to Claude Lanzman, is a problematic depiction of the Holocaust since it attempts to reconstruct the incident, and Spielberg utilized different films or photographs from camps to recreate the horror of the Holocaust. However, there are concerns over whether photographs of the Holocaust and the concentration camps where millions of people murdered are accurate, objective and ethical depictions of the war. The images and other visual evidence from the concentration camps which Spielberg used as reference for Schindler’s List was primarily shot by Nazi officers. It should not be overlooked that the camp images are the result of a “war propaganda” and using those images are open to numerous ethical issues. These images were apparently taken by a German SS soldier as a trophy or to show off his accomplishments to his superior, praising Nazi successes and accomplishments. The most familiar imagery of these concentration camps is the “herds” of desperate, weak, and fatigued people squeezed into small spaces or railway compartments and their dead bodies compiled like a pile of meat. The most well-known examples of these images can be found in Europa Europa (Holland 1990), Schindler’s List (Spielberg 1993), Life is Beautiful (Benigni 1997), and The Pianist (Polanski 2002). Although some critics review Son of Saul (Nemes 2015) as an anti-Schindler’s List, it nonetheless made use of these pictures, despite being out of focus or only appearing in a very small portion of the mis-en-scene. And the director did not hesitate to imagine the voices of the crowds who were waiting to die in the gas chambers even though he did not show them.
Inglourious Basterds gives a standpoint that can advance this discussion. The unconventional storytelling in this movie can add depth to the debates that insist on examining the connection between film and memory in terms of “authenticity” and “representation.” First of all, in terms of homage, the film draws on a wide range of cinematic influences, including classic war films like The Dirty Dozen (Aldrich 1967) and The Great Escape (Sturges 1963). Tarantino’s use of chapter titles, nonlinear narrative structure, and extreme violence are all characteristic of his signature style, but they also evoke the spirit of classic war films from the 1960s and 70s. For example, The Dirty Dozen, Where Eagles Dare (Hutton 1968) and Inglourious Basterds share a similar premise of a group of soldiers sent on a dangerous mission behind enemy lines during World War II, but their respective styles and tones are quite different. Inglourious Basterds is a more satirical and subversive film that plays with the conventions of the genre. Tarantino’s homage to traditional war films is also subverted by his use of alternative history and fantasy elements. The film reimagines the events of World War II, in which a group of Jewish American soldiers are sent to Nazi-occupied France to carry out a mission of revenge. In the film’s climactic sequence, the Jewish soldiers team up with a French cinema owner to stage a violent and bloody attack on a group of high-ranking Nazi officials, including Hitler himself. This alternative history serves as a kind of revenge fantasy, in which the victims of the Holocaust are able to take control of their own destiny and exact a brutal revenge on their oppressors.
The Bending of Holocaust Narrative: Inglourious Basterds
Inglourious Basterds is divided into five chapters. Giving each chapter a different name and making each act visible on the screen emphasize the film’s structure. In other words, the chapters serve as a reminder to the viewer of what they will shortly encounter as a series of organized, labeled, and ultimately constructed events. Additionally, each episode of the movie will feature actual people, locations, and dates while mixing with fictional ones. By making it challenging to distinguish between fact and fiction, Inglourious Basterds, as a historical metafiction, will problematize the concerns surrounding the portrayal of the past. Spectators will “witness the past,” which they are most likely already familiar with from prior films. In other words, thanks to movies, the past is already ingrained in their cultural memory.
In the following section of the chapter, certain scenes were picked as cases and examined through narration methods to help the reader understand how the parody is established in the film. In order to comprehend where and when the story takes place and which historical characters the movie chooses as its heroes, it is crucial to start with the first chapter of the movie. The opening chapter highlights the genre conventions by reminding the audience of previous films they have seen by making allusions to symbols and codes ingrained in their cultural memory.
On a blank screen, three texts are sequentially displayed: an underlined “Chapter 1”, “Once upon a time”, and “in Nazi-Occupied France.” The text, Chapter 1, stresses the constructed structure of the movie and reveals that the film will be narrated in a few episodes. The term “once upon a time” is utilized as a well-known temporal reference for the audience. It is a phrase that has appeared in numerous cinematic productions, and, as stated in the movie, it refers to the past (though not a specific time or place) and a structure akin to a fairytale.
The phrase therefore alludes to the mysterious character of the past itself in the movie. However, the phrase “Nazi-Occupied France” appears just after that. The final text suggests a memory and physical reality that are both quite well-defined. The magical atmosphere created by the previous passage is in opposition with the reality of Nazis, France, and Nazi-occupied France. This abrupt transition from dream to reality through the following literary elements is remarkable in terms of the film’s narrative structure. Inglourious Basterds is a film that makes references to cultural memory and prefers to tell its story not by taking shelter under an authentic realism but using imaginative efforts to modify cultural memory. Chapter 1’s organization highlights the filmic conventions used in Holocaust movies and calls attention to the ways in which the movie industry might have created these tropes.
A still camera and a panoramic perspective are combined in the opening scene of Chapter 1. The mis-en-scene features greenery and warm colors, while a barely visible actor is chopping wood. A white text ”1941” appears soon after in this pleasant and silent environment and abruptly alters the ambience that has been set earlier by the scene. This indicates that this is the calm before the storm because in 1941, the Second World War was still raging, and France was under Nazi occupation.
The movie quickly meets up to the expectations. The peaceful existence of a man cutting wood and a woman hanging laundry in the stillness of the village is drastically interrupted. After displaying the white, snowy piece of cloth that the woman has hung, a vehicle’s sound is heard. Female character notices the approaching car’s sound and she quickly opens the white curtain that covers more than seventy percent of the frame. Music and a very clear shift in the camera’s focus are used to underline this transformation. The white curtain rises, revealing the Nazi officer-filled car. In other words, when the “stage curtain” opens, the Nazis arrive. The fact that the audience would initially encounter the Nazis through “a white, framed screen” is an allusion to the fact that these characters are well-known, identifiable faces from films.
The father, Perrier LaPadite (Denis Ménochet), is notified by his daughter as soon as she spots the approaching automobile. He sends his daughters inside, and then waits for the “bad men” to arrive. Characters’ dialogue is subtitled in English as they speak in French. Additionally, the cast includes unknown actors including Christopher Waltz, a lesser-known actor at the time, who portrays the Nazi commander colonel Hans Landa. The use of a language other than English and the casting of unknown actors of European ancestry seem to be realistic efforts. Such efforts are employed to create a realistic impression, which is one of the key characteristics of Chapter 1, while purposefully avoiding alienating the viewers by featuring A-list performers. Soon later, a car pulls up, and Hans Landa, a Nazi official (Christopher Waltz), comes out to greet the LaPaditte family. They all enter the home after that point.
Moving to the inside alters frame setting. Close-ups, medium shots and still camera start to be used in the scene. When Julie LaPadite (Tina Rodrigues), one of the sisters, shuts the final open window, the interior and exterior are totally divided. Outside the window, the curving, light green landscape contrasts with the interior’s bold, dark hues and geometric shapes. From this point on, frames within frames play a big part in the mis-en-scene. The frames, which the film illustrates, are shown by the rectangular shape of the door, the numerous windows, and the fireplace behind Landa. These frames are displayed from practically every perspective throughout the conversations between the LaPadite family and Hans Landa. The white curtain that unfolds at the beginning and the windows and doors inside the house both frame and symbolize the characters, particularly Hans Landa, as filmic portraits. For instance, Hans Landa is shown as a courteous, respectable man who prefers milk to alcohol, and he is also a very disciplined, smart, unsettling, and controlling character, which is consistent with the recurrent Nazi image in many well-known Holocaust films. He then asks to speak in English. The audience hears and sees a very well-known character, Landa, a terrifying Nazi officer, talk in English with a German accent. Landa resembles Amon Goeth from Schindler’s List, played by Ralph Fiennes, in several ways.
After revealing a sizable record book regarding the Jewish Dreyfus family, Landa begins questioning the father by inquiring about their names and ages. After this prolonged interrogation, the camera finally pans and circles the characters by 180-degree rotation. The extreme close-up that follows this long camera movement reveals Landa’s list. The list, which includes names and ages, serves as a further reminder of the Schlinder’s List to the audience. The image of the “record-keeping Nazis,” the list itself, Landa’s comparison of Jews to vermin (“They are like rats”), his menacing composure, and his accented English are all well-known stereotypes. In an effort to underline that cultural memory of the Holocaust is a collection of pictures established in the cinematic screen, it is possible to argue that the filmmaker reveals the norms that have been repeated in the history of cinema to the audience within its own context.
Later in the scene, the camera makes a pedestal for the first time (vertical down). It slides below the characters’ eye level and even under their feet. Up until this time, the point of view that the camera positioned the audience in was that of a bystander observer, in which the audience shared the characters’ breathing space while maintaining their own personal safe space. Following the pedestal, the Dreyfus family can be seen lurking under the characters’ feet. Now the audience has the same level of information as the father. The audience is drawn into the experience of a group of females who are frightened of being killed and the gap in knowledge between the trio of audience-sisters-father and Hans Landa increases the suspense in the scene.
The portrayal of the Jews who are about to be killed has been a major point of contention in discussions regarding Holocaust movies. Another instance from Schindler’s List is the scene in The Liquidation of the Kraków Ghetto, where Jewish people are seized and killed by Nazi soldiers while hiding behind the walls and in other hidden locations. This is pictured in camera angles where it is impossible for any other witnesses to be present. Similar to this, as the sound volume is peaking, Landa pretends to leave the house, invites the troops inside, and instructs them to start firing at the spot LaPadite points out. This occurs after LaPadite is left with no choice than to betray his Jewish neighbors. With firing and opening holes on the floor, the tension built up by the music playing during this execution and the Landa’s contradictory relaxed attitude peaks. The father of the LaPadite family has been made a confessor and a collaborator in tears, and the Dreyfus have been massacred. Landa has transformed from a cunning detective into a terrorizing Nazi executor. The plot of the movie has developed just as one would anticipate from a Holocaust drama, with a cunning Nazi officer brutally murdering a helpless Jewish family. However, it is not over yet.
Shosanna of the Dreyfus (Mélanie Laurent) echoes Landa’s earlier metaphor by emerging from the hole and surviving like a “rat.” She emerges from the tunnel hole where she has been hiding and makes a run for the fields of green. This run is framed by the door. She not only flees the Nazis but also the narration devices employed in the movie, as symbolized by the contrast in the frame’s inside and outside. In a way, Shosanna is “running away” from the conventional Holocaust narrative. This assertion is supported by the transformation that begins in Chapter 2 of Inglourious Basterds. As of Chapter 2, the terrifying Nazi image and the passive and helpless Jewish figures that have been reinforced by film history and cultural memory will be significantly modified.
At the beginning of Chapter 2, Raine (Brad Pitt) gives a speech to his soldiers. The aim of Raine’s forces in France is to murder as many Nazis as they can while simultaneously terrorizing Nazis with their horrific acts:
The Members of the National Socialist Party have conquered Europe through murder, torture, intimidation, and terror. And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do to them… Nazi ain’t got no humanity. There the foot soldiers of a Jew hatin, mass murderin manic, and they need to be destroyed. That’s why any and every son-of-a--bitch we find wearin a Nazi uniform, there gonna die... We will be cruel to the Germans, and through our cruelty, they will know who we are. They will find the evidence of our cruelty, in the disembowed, dismembered, and disfigured bodies of their brothers we leave behind us. And the German will not be able to help themselves from imagining the cruelty their brothers endured at our hands, and our boot heels, and the edge of our knives.
These well-spoken words contain a contrast to the cinematic memory established in the first chapter of the movie and provide the impression that the story will continue in a different way. What could be Raine’s motivation, and that of the writer-director who is speaking through him? As noted by Aldo Raine, Inglourious Basterds’ later chapters could be interpreted as a protest of the conventions used in the Chapter 1. Therefore, the rest of the movie could be interpreted as a critique of the scary Nazi and the pitiful Jew dichotomy.
The next scene features Adolf Hitler (Martin Wuttke), who repeatedly yells “Nein!”. Hitler appears to be helplessly opposing to Raine’s objectives while he is represented as sweaty, agitated, and crammed into a small cubic space. Despite his large gestures while standing for his massive painting to be produced on the wall, Hitler is far from being a menacing and imposing figure in the warm lighting of yellow and orange tones. In Inglourious Basterds, Hitler appears exactly as Aldo wants him to. Once more, the film’s intentions are made clear by the shift from the scary, ice-cold Nazis of Chapter 1 to this tiny, silly Nazi leader in Chapter 2.
Later, Hitler summons an officer and requests information from him regarding the Bear Jew, a member of the “basterds.” For the first time, a visual representation of the terrifying nature of the Basterds appears in the flashback scene. Basterds appear to be rather powerful from their vantage point in the broad field, in contrast to the Nazi soldiers waiting for their punishment on the lower ground. The Star of David has been substituted with swastikas as a marking symbol, Holocaust victims in humiliation with naked bodies have been replaced by desperate Nazi officials, whose heads are bashed with a bat and skinned. Here, where Nazis are humiliated and cruelly tortured to death, blue and gray tones predominate as opposed to the warm hues in Hitler’s room. The enemies of Nazis are now empowered by the cold colors.
Another instance of this kind of role-reversal can be found in Chapter 3, where weak and comical Nazis are seated at the same table as intimidating and strong Nazis, further highlighting the contrast between them. Years later, Goebbels (Sylvester Groth) is encountered by Shosanna, who is now running a movie theater under the disguise of Emmanuelle Mimieux. Upon seeing Goebbels, Shosanna immediately mocks him in her head. Shosanna envisions Goebbels frantically attempting to have sex with Francesca Mondino, the unsatisfied French translator (Julie Dreyfus). Goebbels does not appear to be a powerful figure, which is surprising considering he was the second-most powerful person of the Nazi. Goebbels asks Shosanna what German movies she owns because he wants to watch one in her theater as a test screening. Up to that point, invisible editing, continuous dialogues, medium shots, and relevant camera angles were used without alienating the audience, and the camera has showed the presence of all characters in the scene. But when Goebbels asks Shosanna, “Which German films do you have?” a significant shift occurs. When Goebbels addresses Shosanna directly, the entire table and all the characters are visible in a medium shot, but Shosanna is by herself. Instead of displaying Shosanna when it is her turn to respond to Goebbels’ question, a close-up of Goebbels is used, violating the 30-degree rule. Goebbels says, “Ah Landa! You are here!” as he raises his head. A purposeful editing “error” interrupts the dialogue sequence that has been developing without interruption up until this point, and Landa appears next to Shosanna out of nowhere. The dramatic music from the scene where Dreyfus family was slain at the end of Chapter 1 is replayed, and the camera tilts for the first time to see Landa next to Shosanna. This unsettling and alienating cinematic effect visualizes Shosanna’s (or Tarantino’s) response to Goebbels’ question, “Which German films do you have?”: the one with Hans Landa. Indeed, as it was already mentioned, the portrayal of Hans Landa is very filmic, meaning that he is one of the prominent Holocaust film stereotypes who has been embodied in the audience’s cultural memory. However, Hans Landa’s terrifying portrayal of a Nazi continues to be demolished by narration strategies in the following scenes, as the Jews go on ruthlessly annihilating the Nazi in the finale.
Shosanna talks about her plan with Marcel (Jacky Ido) after learning about the German Night. As Shosanna states, “We are going to make a film... just for the Nazis.” The plan is for this pair to kill everyone inside the theater after they have gathered the Nazi soldiers and officers there. This tactic has value in a number of ways. On a German film, Shosanna will edit her own voice and image, exactly as director Quentin Tarantino edits his own point of view and narration tools in a Holocaust film. Samuel L. Jackson’s voiceover explains Shosanna’s strategy. As the frame is being split in half, emphasis is made on the use of nitrate film to burn the theater, and a footage from an old American picture is utilized to illustrate the hazards of nitrate film. While Shosanna intends to literally burn Nazis with films, the director uses a self-reflexive filmic language to remind audiences that the thing they are watching is “a film.” While Shosanna plans to use nitrate film to kill Nazis, Tarantino uses Samuel L. Jackson’s distinctive voice, split screens, old film footage, exaggerated acting, sharp variations in editing, strong allusions to film history, and music in a variety of styles to challenge the conventions of Holocaust films, particularly classical Hollywood narrative. To put it another way, the director aims to kill the Nazis, much like Shosanna did, or more specifically, the Nazi perspective and their style of seeing, telling, and remembering.
In fact, the statements made all through the movie will be resolved in the climax, which takes place during the German night. The self-created filmic image of Shosanna appears during the finale of Stolz der Nation, and she responds to Zoller’s statement of “Who wants to give a message to Germany” by saying “I have a message to Germany.” Hundreds of Nazi soldiers and commanders are watching Shosanna and Zoller’s edited conversation. All of the Nazis in the theater become enraged when Shosanna’s enormous, terrifying visage shot from below threatens the Nazis, “You will all die.” While the Nazis’ frantic calls to stop the film remain unanswered, Shosanna’s onscreen image tells Marcel to “burn it down!”. Even though Shosanna is dead, Marcel, as a black character, takes revenge in the name of her (and himself), hence it may be argued that the burned film is not only “A Nation’s Pride”, but it is also a reference to “The Birth of a Nation“ (Griffith 1915). Although many film historians consider D.W. Griffith to be the father of American cinema and his films as significant milestones for the history of filmmaking, The Birth of a Nation portrays the American Civil War in a strongly racist manner, disrespects the Black community, and has a white supremacist point of view. It might therefore be argued that Tarantino critiques American cinema and cultural memory in this way.
As the cinema screen is burning during the climax, “Basterds” storm the theater and begin shooting everyone with automatic guns. Goebbels and Hitler are mercilessly slain; the bullets fired from the weapons of these two Jewish “Basterds” destroy their faces. Hitler and Goebbels are not the only ones who are destroyed in this image; their horrifying representations that have been reinforced throughout film history are as well. Goebbels and Hitler are more than just historical figures. They are also terrifying Nazi figures whose images have been embedded in cultural memory thanks to movies. However, this time, Jews, Women, and Blacks are the masters of enormous brutality and lethal force in a World War II or Holocaust movie, while the Nazi share great terror and despair.
At the finale, in defiance of their prior agreement, Raine says that Landa cannot change his name or identity after the war, and he uses a large knife to inscribe a swastika on Landa’s forehead. Although Raine is the one who carves Landa’s forehead, it might be argued that Tarantino is speaking via Raine’s words when he declares, “I think this just might be my masterpiece.” The camera’s view is driven by Landa’s point of view in this famous shot from below that Tarantino frequently uses in his film. In a sense, the spectator sees the world through Landa’s eyes. In this way, the audience is made aware of the fact that their cultural memory is built on Nazi cinematic motifs, which are closely related to American cinema. In other words, a swastika not only appears on Landa’s forehead but also on the spectator’s cultural memory, which has been formed by Holocaust films. Perhaps, the concept of Hitler killed by Jews is not about ignoring historical reality but about recalling how cinematic memory is constructed.
By carefully referencing earlier conventions of the Holocaust films and the cinematic history, Tarantino employs an intentional intertextuality. It can be claimed that Inglourious Basterds is a Hutcheonian parody. Although Tarantino parodied World War II and Nazi movies, this parody has no intention of making fun of the past. Tarantino positioned himself far from the conventional filmmaking and Inglourious Basterds exposes the witnessing and remembering practices used in classic Holocaust movies that were adapted from the imagination of Nazi propaganda. As a historiographic metafiction, the film questions how spectators remember and perceive the past and offers them different perspectives. This suggests that Inglourious Basterds, as a postmodern narrative, should not be viewed as a straightforward nostalgia that fails to acknowledge its own temporality, but rather as a historiographic metafiction that questions the connection between cinema and cultural memory.
Conclusion
In conclusion, modernist thinking has failed in its attempts to define the world in a meaningful integrity with precise truths and to explain it in grand narratives. Artists are thus relieved of the burden of an impossibly difficult undertaking, such as reaching the absolute truths, in a world where there is no universally accepted solid reality. This postmodern approach can be applied to the cinema, where alternative realities can be produced and performed. Intertextual aspects are adopted by some filmmakers, like Tarantino, to make references to preceding artistic creations and genres while creating their own reality, but in Tarantino’s movies, these collages serve not only as a copy or pastiche of earlier movies but also as a parody of those movies using postmodern criticism.
Through its psychological effects on the spectator, cinema has developed as a potent tool for forming personal or collective memories. Repetitions of ideas, perspectives, and narratives in movies have been passed on from generations to generations through the years and ingrained in cultural memory. For instance, despite the fact that very few Holocaust survivors are still alive, films have helped millions of people absorb the event in their cultural memory. The locations where the event occurred and the photos obtained from those locations were utilized as references in films like Schindler’s List, which helps build the cultural memory of the Holocaust, in order to portray an authentic reality with the claim of directly representing the Holocaust. In reality, these attempts to achieve realism have reenacted social tragedies through film and reproduced Nazi-produced imagery.
A social trauma has been converted into a spectacle for the next generations, especially for American viewers, in these movies where weak, sick, and impoverished Jews are persecuted and destroyed by strong, disciplined, healthy, and frightening Nazi commanders. Contrarily, Inglourious Basterds uses these repeated visuals in a self-reflexive way. Even though the Nazis were the ones who committed horrific atrocities against humanity, the authority is taken away from the Nazis thanks to the film’s storytelling. Numerous Nazi officers, including Adolf Hitler, are killed by Jews throughout the narrative. Yet more crucially, by using a different characterization and point of view, the Nazis’ dominating image is taken away from them and offered to the others, especially to Jews. Although the strategies utilized in this movie will not bring back or make up for a generation that was the victim of terrible massacres, the film made it possible to reject the methods of seeing and grasping the events that led to the incident. It is demonstrated that movies, as spectacles, have the power to create a new reality, free of the burden of the past.
One of Theodor Adorno’s most well-known quotes is “To write poetry after Auschwitz is barbaric”. There is no going back on the Holocaust, and after such horrific events, every line of poetry or every frame of a movie serves as proof of the claim that “life goes on.” Adorno emphasizes the conflict between the cultural ideals of the society that gave rise to the Holocaust and cultural depictions of it that occur in art. From this point of view, it is possible to claim that producing a film about the Holocaust is barbaric.
“How can we reach at a postmodern truth?” Williams asks. Movies can not tell the whole story. Rather, they can only expose ideologies and ways of thinking that reveal contradictory or consistent truths. Historical reality is practically unreachable by definition, but it is still possible to address historical themes by identifying their contemporary repetitions and survivability. Maintaining the same cultural norms of the society that gave rise to the Holocaust by portraying the perpetrators as strong and frightening and the “others” as weak serves to maintain the cultural codes that made the Holocaust possible. The biggest factors that prevent postmodern art from becoming timeless and meaningless are, therefore, the desire to create an “alternative” reality and speak out in this new discourse rather than trying to reflect the authentic past with modern understanding.
Inglourious Basterds, which can be regarded as a historiographic metafiction, exposes and parodies the modernist narration tropes and attempts to create an alternative narrative rather than merely repeating or pastiching the old. To conclude, it is also noteworthy that the film’s celebration of violent revenge against Nazis, while understandable given the historical context, can also be seen as promoting a militaristic worldview and perpetuating the myth of the “heroic” soldier. Additionally, the film’s hypermasculine characters and emphasis on violent retribution can be seen as reinforcing traditional gender roles and promoting a toxic masculinity. However, it is also worth noting that Tarantino’s use of parody in the film can also be seen as a way of subverting traditional genre conventions and exposing the inherent violence and absurdity of war. The film’s use of alternative history and fantasy elements can be seen as a way of critiquing traditional narratives of victimhood and passivity in relation to the Holocaust. Finally, in this movie, power has passed to “others” (Women, Jews, and/or Blacks) who were oppressed by modernity.
Author Biography
Baran Tekay is a PhD candidate at Galatasaray University, and a research assistant in Beykent University. His research interests are visual re-creation of cultural memory by films and video games. His literary and semi-academic works were published on both online and printed media (Birikim, Bianet, Can Yayınları, Kontrast Dergi). His short films have been screened in the competition selections of different film festivals (19th Kısa-Ca, 3rd AFSAD Short Film Festivals).
Notes
- Elazar Balkan, “Review of Schindler’s List,” The American Historical Review 99, no. 4 (October 1994): 12-48. ⮭
- Robert Burgoyne, “Memory, History and Digital Imagery in Contemporary Film,” in Memory and Popular Film, ed. Paul Grainge, Mark Jancovich, and Eric Schaefer (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008), 220-236. ⮭
- Jochen Kürten, “Why Holocaust Drama ‘Son of Saul’ is an ‘Anti-Schindler’s List’ Film,” DW, March 10, 2016, https://www.dw.com/en/why-holocaust-drama-son-of-saul-is-an-anti-schindlers-list-film/a-19105932#:˜:text=Why%20Holocaust%20drama%20’Son%20of,do%20justice%20to%20the%20Holocaust. ⮭
- Claude Lanzmann, “Why Spielberg Has Distorted the Truth,” Guardian Weekly 14, no. 3 (April 1994): 111-125. ⮭
- Robert Brent Toplin, Oliver Stone’s USA: Film, History, And Controversy (Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2003). ⮭
- Thomas Austin, “Indexicality and Inter/textuality: 24 City’s Aesthetics and the Politics of Memory,” Screen 55 no. 2 (July 2014): 256-266. ⮭
- Terry Eagleton, The Illusions of Postmodernism (Malden: Wiley-Blackwell, 1996). ⮭
- Jean-Francois Lyotard, The Postmodern Condition: A Report On Knowledge, trans. Geoff Bennington and Brian Massumi (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1984). ⮭
- Pat Dowell and John Fried, “Pulp Friction: Two Shots at Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction,” Cinéaste 21 no. 3 (January 1995): 4-7. ⮭
- Fredric Jameson, “Postmodernism and Consumer Society,” in The Anti-Aesthetic: Essays On Postmodern Culture, ed. Hal Foster (Washington: Bay Press, 1985), 111-125. ⮭
- Metin Çolak, “Intertextuality, Pastiche and Parody in Postmodern Cinema,” Pamukkale University Journal of Social Sciences Institute 49 (November 2021): 261-274. ⮭
- Linda Hutcheon, A Poetics of Postmodernism: History, Theory, Fiction (New York and London: Routledge, 1988). ⮭
- Linda Hutcheon, A Theory of Parody: The Teachings of Twentieth-Century Art Forms (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2000). ⮭
- Dilek Koçak, “Sinemada Postmodernizm.” Beykent Üniversitesi Sosyal Bilimler Dergisi 5 no. 2 (September 2012) : 65-86. ⮭
- Aleida Assmann, “Memory, Individual and Collective,” in The Oxford Handbook of Contextual Political Analysis, ed. Robert E. Goodin and Charles Tilly (Oxford: Oxford UP, 2006), 210-224. ⮭
- Jan Assmann, “Communicative and Cultural Memory,” in Cultural Memories, ed. Peter Meusburger, Michael Heffernan, and Edgar Wunder (Dordrecht: Springer, 2011), 15-27. ⮭
- Claude Lanzmann, “Why Spielberg Has Distorted the Truth,” Guardian Weekly 14, no. 3 (April 1994): 111-125. ⮭
- Jochen Kürten, “Why Holocaust Drama ‘Son of Saul’ is an ‘Anti-Schindler’s List’ Film,” DW, March 10, 2016, https://www.dw.com/en/why-holocaust-drama-son-of-saul-is-an-anti-schindlers-list-film/a-19105932#:˜:text=Why%20Holocaust%20drama%20’Son%20of,do%20justice%20to%20the%20Holocaust. ⮭
- Alan Mintz, Popular Culture and the Shaping of Holocaust Memory in America (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001). ⮭
- Eric Langenbacher, “Changing Memory Regimes in Contemporary Germany?” German Politics & Society 21 no. 2 (June 2003): 46-68. ⮭
- Thomas Elsaesser, German Cinema-Terror and Trauma (London and New York: Routledge, 2014), 54-86. ⮭
- Alan Mintz, Popular Culture and the Shaping of Holocaust Memory in America (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001), 125. ⮭
- Franciszek Palowski, The Making of Schindler’s List: Behind the Scenes of an Epic Film (Secaucus NJ: Carol Publishing Group, 1998). ⮭
- Ibid. ⮭
- Claude Lanzmann, “Why Spielberg Has Distorted the Truth,” Guardian Weekly 14, no. 3 (April 1994): 111-125. ⮭
- Thomas Elsaesser, German Cinema-Terror and Trauma (London and New York: Routledge, 2014), 62. ⮭
- Jochen Kürten, “Why Holocaust Drama ‘Son of Saul’ is an ‘Anti-Schindler’s List’ Film,” DW, March 10, 2016, https://www.dw.com/en/why-holocaust-drama-son-of-saul-is-an-anti-schindlers-list-film/a-19105932#:˜:text=Why%20Holocaust%20drama%20’Son%20of,do%20justice%20to%20the%20Holocaust. ⮭
- Theodor W. Adorno, Prisms (Cambridge: MIT Press, 1983), 34. ⮭
- Linda Williams, ”Mirrors Without Memories,” Film Quarterly 46 no. 3 (April 1993): 9–21. ⮭