Brando Pitt?

A couple of photos from the set of Quentin Tarantino's new WWII movie Inglourious Basterds [sic] have been released over the last few days. This in itself is of little interest to me because Tarantino disappeared up his own arse years ago. Kill Bill was the final nail in the coffin for me. Seriously, how can anybody direct a swordplay movie with legendary action choreographers Sonny Chiba and Woo-ping Yuen acting as advisors and yet still manage to make it utterly tedious? That's what happens when you cobble a film together by simply reshooting fight scenes from great martial arts movies. It's the celluloid equivalent of those history societies who dress up and re-enact famous battles on Sunday afternoons only much more expensive and less fun. I didn't bother to see Death Proof.

No, what did interest me about the set photos from Inglourious Basterds (no, really, that's how the film-makers are spelling it) was the eerie resemblance between a certain Mr. Brad Pitt and the late, great, albeit strange Marlon Brando:

See what I mean? It's not just me, is it?