What the world needs now is a brand-new Contempt — a film about 21st Century filmmaking that has nothing to do with Jean-Luc Godard or Alberto Moravia or memories of Michel Piccoli or Jack Palance. The focus would be on the pathetic refusal or inability of under-50 filmmakers to submit to even a semblance of realistic period aroma or behavior — they have to recreate all films set in the past according to their contemporary jackoff imaginings and comic-book mythologies. Hence Fury — David Ayer‘s World War II action thriller that is obviously aping Inglourious Basterds. Brad Pitt as Sergeant Wop-Bop-A-Loo-Bop….War Daddy, I mean…and a five-man crew (Shia LaBeouf, Logan Lerman, Michael Pena and some guy I’ve never heard of) on a “deadly behind-enemy-lines mission…striking at the heart of Nazi Germany,” blah blah splat.

The Contempt I’m imagining would be a mixture of Fury blended with a back-room saga about Ayer, Pitt and Fury producers Bill Block, Ethan Smith and John Lesher imagining this and that riff on the Tarantino-esque Grand Theft Auto-styled WWII movie software, calculating what they can get away with and what the submental ticket-buyers will enjoy or at least accept as they (Pitt, et.al.) pleasure themselves in various ways as they slip into the bathroom every so often to punch themselves in the face and stick their fingers down their throats to induce vomiting.