Committed followers of Quentin Tarantino most likely rub their eyes in astonishment every time they see the words "Inglourious Basterds" published in the Coming Soon section of their favourite newspaper. There have been, down the years, too many projected Tarantino projects to number – a James Bond film, a kung fu epic entirely in Mandarin, and so on – but, through it all, Inglorious Bastards(as it once was) has continued to circle the landing strip. It was reasonable to assume it might never land.
The idea has its origins in Tarantino's legendary spell as a video-store employee. Among the obscure films he admired was an Italian war story entitled Quel Maledetto Treno Blindato (1978). Titled, yes, Inglorious Bastards in America, Enzo G Castellari's film fuelled the young man's ambition to make his own men-on-a-mission war flick. Tarantino would intermittently mention the project in the decade following the release of his timeless debut Reservoir Dogs (1992).
In 2000, during the lengthy hiatus that succeeded Jackie Brown, he stirred up some interest by suggesting that Inglorious Bastards – once imagined as a spaghetti western– might feature a turn from his pal Adam Sandler.
Another slog at the script followed, but it began to look as if he couldn’t bring himself to finish it. “It was some of the best writing I’ve ever done. But I couldn’t come up with an ending,” he said at the time.
Undaunted, actor Michael Madsenclaimed that he would star in the film, and that it would open in 2004, but, by this point, the boss had become distracted by the monster that was to become the bifurcated Kill Bill. Fielding questions following its release, Tarantino again raised the prospect of a second World War film featuring characters who were "not your normal hero types that are thrown into a big deal in the second World War".
Journalists snorted and, sure enough, Quentin headed off to work on the insubstantial Death Proof, his contribution to the peculiar Grindhousepackage.
The great man claimed (yet again) to have got back to the typewriter after Grindhouse flopped grimly worldwide. Punters were understandably sceptical. Then, early last year, a screenplay entitled Inglourious Basterds began creeping up on various websites.
Detailing the dual story of a group of Jewish-American soldiers on a campaign to kill every upright Nazi and a young French woman's efforts to extract revenge for the murder of her family, the script had the right class of zippy dialogue, featured the requisite number of postmodern gagsand even featured a believably conscious misspellingin its title. (Tarantino often jokes about his bad spelling).
So, barring some calamity, Inglourious Basterds finally arrives in cinemas next week, and it carries significant expectations on its virtual shoulders. Bob and Harvey Weinstein, whose Weinstein Company has been floundering, desperately need a commercial hit. Following the misfiring of Death Proof, Tarantino also requires the picture to generate some heat.
Could this perilous mission prove beyond the abilities of a formidable squad that includes Brad Pitt, the award- winning Christoph Waltz and Mr Tarantino himself? The long wait for an answer is nearly over. DC
