In this episode, we dig into Quentin Tarantino’s alternate-history thriller and why Nazis became cinema’s “easy plug-in villain.” We frame Inglourious Basterds as “a movie about World War II movies… about how they’re depicted,” and how its set-pieces weaponize film grammar—chapter structure, sustained suspense, and the “threat of violence”—to make the audience complicit in both dread and catharsis.

We unpack the opening farmhouse sequence (“one of the most tension-filled… brilliant interplays… you’re likely to see”) and Christoph Waltz’s Hans Landa as the “cultured monster,” a refined, performative sadist whose mere presence brings violence in his wake. We trace that dynamic through Shoshanna’s café scene and into the premiere of Nation’s Pride, where Nazi myth-making meets a counter-myth: “cinema becomes the weapon through which Nazis are killed.”

Along the way, we ask what it means to cheer. Tarantino pointedly shows the bat killing by “the Bear Jew,” daring us to confront whether the film’s vengeance is gratifying, sickening, or both: “This movie confronts us in how we watch movies about Nazis… whether we approve of violence, to what extent… do we enjoy it or are we repulsed by it?” We also talk propaganda and performance (from Raiders to The Last Metro), the fairy-tale license of “Once upon a time in Nazi-occupied France,” and the shock of giving audiences what no “bunker movie” ever does.

Finally, we press on labels and loyalties: Are the Basterds anti-fascist? “Yes… anyone who’s against Nazis is anti-fascist.” What that means—for the characters and for us as viewers—powers our closing debate about moral clarity, method, and why this film remains so rewatchable: “movies have really… created how we perceive Nazis,” and Tarantino lets the medium burn the myth.