Quentin Tarantino's Inglourius

Well, that's one way to describe it.

Another way is the phrase "total borefest".

It's a war film about a group of Nazi hunters going around killing Nazis, and somehow I was actually rooting for the Germans.

They're Nazi hunters and when they find a Nazi they kill him. Only they don't just kill the evil, nasty Nazis, like the SS, they go find some poor German conscript - a guy only fighting because he's been told to fight -and they bash his head with a baseball bat.

In typical Tarantino style scene after "cool" scene happens. People sit around talking. They discuss German cinema, their favourite directors. There's a curious scene when a British agent who's also an expert on German cinema is briefed by an officer and another man I suspect was Winston Churchill. They meet in a large, almost totally empty room yet for some reason they all choose to stand in opposite corners and shout across the empty space at each other.

This might be the point (fifteen hours in I think) when all three people in the room said together as one: "This is crap."

But we lasted, all the way to the end.

Through the forty seven hours of scenes where people chatted about German cinema.

Through a two hour scene in a bar where a British agent was exposed because he said he grew up in Krimml in a house with Sky Blue window shutters, when in fact any native of Krimml knows that due to local planning laws all window shutters must be painted Topaz Blue. (In fact there's special dispensation for houses built between 1921 and 1926 to allow them to have Mirage Blue shutters, a shade very close to Sky Blue, so it's possible the agent could have been mistaken about the precise shade of blue, but since he was a boy at the start of the Great War, the house he grew up in can't have been built between 1921 and 1926). ***

Lots of people get shot.

Brad Pitt didn't get shot. Perhaps the German soldiers were confused by how American he was looking, or how many times he said, "Mama mia!". (He was disguised as an Italian you see).

Hitler may have got shot, or maybe it was blown up, or burned to death. I missed most of the frantic climax because I was spluttering with incredulity that the Hitler, the leader of the German people, the Fuhrer, the most important man in Nazi Germany, the guy you'd think the Germans would be keen on protecting, they'd given him two guards.

In Paris. The captial of France. A city, filled with Frenchmen. Who hate Germans. With Brad Pitt dressed as an Italian and his crack team of Nazi hunters on the loose.

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*** Okay, so the scene didn't quite get to this level of banality, but watch it - it skirts damn close to it