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Sep 16, 2009 Various Artists By Laura Studarus

If there’s one great failing to Quentin Tarantino’s film soundtracks, it’s that they remind me just how boring my life really is. Extraneous orchestral swells? Unexpected juxtaposition of classic rock and symphonic scores? Obscure foreign language ditties? Why, it’s enough to make a girl want to seek revenge against the man who left her for dead on her wedding day, take a classic car for a blood-soaked joyride, or—in the case of his latest epic Inglourious Basterds—go a’ Nazi killing. You know, just for the hell of it.

For his first take on the Spaghetti Western, Tarantino has compiled yet another thematically cohesive mix tape. More of a film accruement than straightforward album, it’s almost as difficult not to imagine Tarantino’s larger-than-life visuals while listening to his soundtracks, as it is to imagine his camp, gore, and comedy, sans its musical accompaniment. Basterds’ soundtrack perfectly evokes the emotional intensity of life at the end of World War II—a trick accomplished almost exclusively though musical appropriation from other film scores. Interestingly, Ennio Morricone was rumored to have been on board to write the Basterds’ score before turning down the job due to an accelerated shoot schedule. Instead Morricone is represented by four cuts, including, “Rabbia E Tarantella”—previously used in 1974’s Allonsanfan.

When not dabbling in instrumental dramatics, Tarantino proves to be a camp equal opportunist, including both German classic “Ich Wollt Ich Waer Ein Huhn” (“I Wish I Was a Chicken”) and Samantha Shelton and Michael Andrew’s “The Man With The Big Sombrero,”—a French-language ode to a man in Mexico…with a big hat. While anchoring the film in a distinctive time and place, their inclusion proves to be one of the album’s few missteps, temporarily striping it of tension.

Perhaps the most striking use of appropriation is the inclusion of David Bowie’s “Cat People,” which previous appeared in a film of the same name. Here it occupies both a crucial place in the Inglourious Basterds film and soundtrack, despite also perfectly capturing the sonic landscape of its year of release…1982—some 38 years after the film’s World War Two setting. Of course, given the extent of Tarantino’s twisted, alternate universe vision, can he even be accused of anachronism? Basterds’ soundtrack—in all its genre hopping, borrowed glory— makes one thing clear—it’s his world. We’re just visiting. (www.inglouriousbasterdsmusic.com)

Author rating: 8/10