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Quentin Tarantino has written and directed an ambitious production, shot in multiple countries with an international cast, about Jews taking revenge on Nazis during World War II. It’s “Inglourious Basterds,” and the film is probably more in my personal wheelhouse than any other release in 2009.

In a film that in no way whatsoever is anything resembling a true story — I imagine I’d have heard about it in Hebrew school if it were — “Inglourious Basterds” follows three separate but intersecting storylines during World War II: a team of American Jews (led by Brad Pitt) traveling around Europe and killing Nazis; a young French Jew named Shoshana attempting to avenge the murder of her family, and various intrigue involving the Goebbels-run Nazi German film industry.

All three intersect at a climactic movie premiere whose result is wildly, audaciously ahistorical.

So why is “Basterds’’ such a colossal disappointment? It’s mostly because Tarantino indulges all of his worst impulses as a filmmaker and ignores what he does best. The film, clocking in at two-and-a-half hours, moves at the pace of a snail, has way too much talk and not nearly enough action, and spends the bulk of its running time building towards payoffs that either never come or disappoint when they do.

But perhaps worst of all is that we’ve been sold a false bill of goods. The film’s ad campaign makes it look like a breezy, super-violent, anti-Nazi revenge fantasy for Jews — call it “Munich,” without the guilt. We’re led to believe that Brad Pitt leads a colorful team of Jewish characters in a violent rampage across Europe, sort of the climactic

“House of Blue Leaves” segment in “Kill Bill Vol. 1” spread out to feature length. But that’s not “Inglourious Basterds,” except for one 15-minute scene early on. Instead, most of it consists of long, long scenes in which people sit around and talk, sometimes building up to something worthwhile but usually not. Especially in his recent work, Tarantino has become addicted to dialogue scenes that seem to last forever.

When the dialogue is cracking, this works. When it’s not — think Bruce Willis and his girlfriend in “Pulp Fiction,” or pretty much all of “Kill Bill Vol. 2” — it can be torturous to sit through.

What ever happened to QT’s legendary ear for great dialogue, on display in his ’90s films? Why couldn’t he pull a “Death Proof” — lots of talk for the first hour or two, but witty talk, which leads into some action that’s worth the wait?

The climax, while well-done, fails to justify the build-up. The only time the movie really hits on all cylinders is in a scene in which the Basterds are introduced, one-by-one, including a character called “The Bear Jew” (played by “Hostel” auteur Eli Roth) who gets one of the best entrances in movie history. But the film squanders this build-up, when the next scene features 20 minutes of people yammering.

The film does post some excellent performances, led by Austrian actor Christoph Waltz as a smarmy SS colonel. Mélanie Laurent, as Shoshana, is very good as well, allowing Tarantino to indulge one of his favorite themes, women seeking revenge. (As for his other favorite subject — womens’ feet — we see those, too.) And continuing Tarantino’s tradition of rehabilitating actors whose careers are all but dead, Mike Myers has an excellent cameo as a British military man who looks like a cross between Goldmember and Middle-Aged Man.

I’m a huge Quentin Tarantino fan and have been since the early ’90s, and he’s the director more than any other who really got me into movies. But “Inglourious Basterds” is an unfortunate misfire — a case of a filmmaker misdirecting his considerable talents.