Some people are Quentin Tarantino people. Other people aren't. Some people jump on the violent nature of his films and immediately discount his genius. I maintain that, at least in the case of Inglourious Basterds, the violence is part and parcel of that genius.

Now when I say violence, what do I mean? I don't mean that you literally are sitting there from one end of the two-and-a-half hours to the other, experiencing blood-spattering horror constantly. Quite the contrary.

I found myself sitting down expecting to be innundated with new and exciting ways to eliminate the Nazi threat. I expected to be taught that each and every victim was a dispicable Nazi totally deserving of any unspeakable maiming at the hands of the "Basterds."

Needless to say, I was surprised with what appeared on the screen.

Sure, there was a humorous scene of baseball-batting a Nazi. Sure, Nazis died. But it never quite took the form I expected.

A media junkie, I pride myself on being able to accurately predict "what's behind that door" or "what's going to happen next." I tend to know Hollywood's signals that incur a cry of "don't go in there!" Tarantino, however, doesn't play like that. He keeps you guessing.

In the opening scene I was convinced the innocent family hiding from the Nazis in the basement would go free, and we'd meet them. Not so. I thought the story would follow a somewhat historically accurate arc. Not so. I thought it would be scene after scene of violent brutality. Also not the case.

By the time the violence appeared, you'd been waiting so long to see it, you forgot it was coming. Christopher Waltz's methodical, painstaking "Jew hunter" Hans Landa anchors you fully in the Nazi-hating mode. Every time he comes on screen you just can't help but despise him. His syrupy, loving approach belies his true murderous persona. Landa, much like a cobra hypnotizing its prey, leads other characters down a primrose path until he pounces.

Surprisingly, the Basterds including Brad Pitt, play an alomst supporting role to Landa and Shoshanna Dreyfus (the inspirational Melanie Laurent), the teenage Jewess who escapes a Landa snare and plots extensive revenge on the Nazis. The Basterds are downplayed to such a degree that Brad Pitt's name doesn't even appear in the opening credits. Instead, one might take note of Mike Myers' name appearing, as Myers seamlessly performs a cameo role.

Another powerful scene unfolds when the Basterds and a German double agent attempt to plan the end of World War II by blowing up the entire Nazi High Command at a propoganda film's grand opening. Their plan becomes compromised only after the ruse is maintained for a good 40 minutes. My heart stayed in my throat the entire time as the Basterds attempted to dupe a high-ranking SS official. In the process, the audience learns a German drinking game. At the end of the scene, within about 2 seconds' time, everyone in the room has died except two. The resulting "Mexican Standoff" is a Tarantino mainstay, but also an immediate classic.

Tarantino avoids the use of techniques some say are uniquely his. He doesn't offer a scene with someone on the toilet. He doesn't bring up Red Apple Cigarettes, though there might be a pack visible in one scene. No relatives of the Vega family appear. And Tarantino himself doesn't play a bit part. You will, however, hear two of Tarantino's favorite actors narrating certain parts of the movie: Harvey Keitel and Samuel L. Jackson.

Yeah, sure, Brad Pitt's great, but he isn't the movie. The movie is more about the pacing, the crescendos of violence that are just so satifying (after having to wait so long) and the cinematography. In my opinion, Tarantino didn't just capture a great story, he captured some amazingly beautiful, rich, sweeping imagery that you just don't expect considering his previously rough-cut MTV-paced movies set in Los Angeles.

Tarantino seems to consider the World War II era. People moved slower. Small things like moths or matches might be just as interesting as the big bombs, and conversation once formed the main source of entertainment.

And, well, who doesn't just want to unload an entire clip of bullets into Hitler's face?

Inglorious Basterds is just too much fun. The Nazis are too fun to hate, and the way Tarantino gets rid of them is simply irresistable entertainment.