In an interview with Charlie Rose, Quentin Tarantino recalled a very specific criticism of his work: that he would never be a master of suspense because he was far too in love with minutiae. The criticism wasn’t entirely unfounded and Tarantino himself has conceded that the criticism was fair. Up until that point, Tarantino had directed Pulp Fiction and Reservoir Dogs. And for all their merits, suspense isn’t something these movies are known for. It was the quotidian conversations about quarter pounders and tipping culture topped off with the over-the-top violence that made for a typical Tarantino movie.
In 2008, however, the auteur director laid these criticisms to rest by creating Inglourious Basterds, a body of work that’s brimming with delightful uncertainty and unease. The movie established Tarantino as a filmmaker with a strong rein over the element of suspense. It’s worth noting that Tarantino doesn’t abandon his signature subtleties for this project. Instead, he uses the minutiae to add to the intensity of the movie. Nowhere is this more apparent than the opening sequence to the film — one of Tarantino’s personal favorite scenes. So, let’s take a moment to tour through the cow country in an attempt to nail down the reason why this opening scene is so intense.
A Terrifying Villain
Universal Pictures
What’s so great about the opening scene of Inglourious Basterds is that it introduces us to one of the most terrifying and charming villains of all time: Hans Landa (played by Christoph Waltz). On paper, Landa is the ideal house guest. He offers generous compliments to his hosts, he asks permission before smoking his pipe, and he is exceedingly polite. And yet, this scene starts with the understanding that at any moment, Landa could have his men enter the house and murder all its occupants with full impunity — after all, he is a special agent of the Nazi party. But for all his power, Hans Landa is rarely an ungrateful host. His threats are never said aloud; his all-knowing smile hangs in the air at all times like a cocked gun. His mere confidence — in the way he carries himself, and in the way he carries his reputation — is enough to remind his host of his situation.
Tarantino has said that Landa is first and foremost a detective. Everything he does is some form of an interrogation. And an interrogation is essentially a bunch of mind games. Waltz approaches his character keeping in mind the spirit with which Tarantino wrote the character. From the moment he walks into the scene, Landa asserts his dominance in front of the LaPadite family. Upon walking into their home, he walks around like he owns it. When the hosts offer him wine, he declines and demands milk instead, as if to state that the family is there to serve him. Even more terrifyingly, Landa grabs the wrists of one of the daughters while making this demand — an action that subtly crosses the line to an overt display of power.
Landa also takes his time with everything he does. He’s aware that people are waiting for him, and he has no qualms about making them wait. He chugs the entire glass of milk with great satisfaction while the entire family awaits at his beck and call. His pauses are frequent, and his stares are disconcertingly lengthy. Like the beast he compares the German soldiers to, Landa enjoys chasing and tiring out his prey before hunting them down.
An Eerie Sense of Inevitability
The very first shot of Inglourious Basterds’ opening scene gives us a glimpse into the peaceful life of a farmer and his family. From a distance, we see a humble house, some scattered cows, a farmer hacking away at the stump of a tree, and his daughter hanging laundry on the clothesline. The peace is abruptly disturbed when a fleet of Nazi vehicles intrudes upon the farmer’s pastoral life. The music that accompanies is a strange mix of “Fur Elise” and a cowboy Western soundtrack. LaPadite responds to the oncoming fleet of vehicles in a strange manner that immediately sets off the tension. There is the slight sense of resignation, as if he was expecting this raid to happen for a while. He orders his daughters to run to the safety of their home; but is this simply a cursory measure of precaution, or is something more going on behind the scenes?
All these suspicions hang in the air from the moment LaPadite sees the vehicles approaching. These suspicions are not shaped out laboriously; rather, the subtly off-putting manner in which he responds to the sight pushes the viewer’s own sense of danger into gear. It’s precisely this feeling that keeps building over the duration of the 20-minute scene. And it is achieved without telling or showing us much. With candid dialogues, uncomfortable camera angles, and a few charismatic actors, Tarantino manages to make us feel in 20 minutes what most filmmakers fail to do in an entire movie.
Long before we learn about the secret beneath the floorboards, a sense of unease has already developed. While much of it is attributed to the haunting effect of Landa’s presence, the dynamic camera angles do a wonderful job of enhancing it. Shortly after Landa and LaPadite sit down, we see that La LaPadite is edged towards the corner of the screen while Landa occupies much of the center frame. The camera is telling us that Landa has cornered LaPadite. But once LaPadite starts giving confident answers, the camera switches to his favor. It’s the classic cat and mouse game, told from the perspective of a camera.
Around halfway through the scene, the camera pans down below the floorboard to reveal the ticking time bomb. What we feared all along has just been confirmed. Now, the camera switches to a low-angle shot, providing a disorienting view of the conversation. The tension reaches its peak after we hear Landa go on a tangent about rats and hawks. At this moment, Landa drops the masquerade of politeness and reveals that he’s known about the Jews underneath the floorboard all along. We finally see the camera zoom in on both the characters’ faces as one expresses authority and victory while the other expresses fear and anguish. But in getting there, Tarantino completely wraps the viewer up in the conversation between the two characters: the charming aura of an angel of death, an unshakable feeling that his victim has something to hide, and finally a growing sense of inevitable doom is what keeps us hanging on to every single word in the conversation, until the violent conclusion.
