Because there might be one person out there who wants to hear every bit of minutia about Quentin Tarantino’s Inglorious Bastards

I’m certainly not one of them, but now that Universal seems to be stepping in to join the Weinstein company in producing and releasing the film we can finally start reporting on aspects of the film that actually involve the film itself rather than the rumors we’ve seemingly been talking about since this site was a little tiny baby in its cute little baby adorable crib. The film, which Tarantino finished up scripting in recent weeks, is an ensemble war piece [of course it is, wars tend to be ensemble affairs in their own right] is supposed to be his Magnum Opus, a WWII film packed to the gills with everything that makes Quentin Tarantino more a genre than a guy.

There was never a doubt that the guy would get his cash to make it. Despite Grindhouse‘s [which I cannot even consider watching ever again, by far my least favorite of his works] failure at the box office, it did well in ancillary markets and did little to tarnish the director’s credibility or flexibility.

Now it’s just a matter of whether it becomes an A-List powerhouse of familiar names [Brad Pitt and Leonardo DiCaprio have been rumored], a collection of old-timers and throwbacks, or a combination of both. One thing is for certain, if Michael Madsen isn’t involved, he’s going to blow up a pre-school or something.

Every day, Michael Madsen wakes up and looks into the morning sunlight wondering if it’s the day The Vega Brothers is greenlit. He wipes the sleep from his eyes and remembers that there’s no way in Screamin’ Hell that’ll happen. His thoughts then move to Inglorious Bastards but not before he avoids stepping on any bottles as he makes his way towards his home. He curses himself for another night of stupor. He passes Ted McGinley’s house and steals the Daily Variety from the lawn. He wonders how McGinley had the bankroll to be a daily subscriber before pulling open the headline revealing word that Quentin has aced the script and is ready to make it. He scans the page for his name, curses, and pulls his pants down. Whatever comes out, McGinley deserves.

So, we’ll see a vintage Universal logo headline the next Tarantino flick. That’s cool. I hope the film is a perfect amalgam of trademark Quentin by way of A Bridge Too Far met at the intersection of The Dirty Dozen and Cross of Iron before hanging a sharp right to what The Thin Red Line should have been, coming to a rest near The Guns of Navarone but dusted with a little Uncommon Valor at curbside.

What I don’t want to see is another ‘funded fanboy’ project from Quentin where he totally just goes into cruise control riffing on his favorite films and motifs without giving it a nice kick of NEW. I want to see the guy really pushing himself to new places, even if he crashes and burns. The guy is a genius and too talented to be doing indulgent stuff like he has since Jackie Brown wrapped. If Inglorious Bastards is to be two films, so be it. Just so long as they have a right to be so. More isn’t always better and I hold Quentin to a standard equal to his skills.

No more speculation now. Let’s get this cocksucker going and see if it’s all it’s cracked up to be.