Grave of the Fireflies [Film Review]

This may be the first time I've ever had to hold back tears. Normally I like to cry during a film, it's a nice release. I'm not shy about it, I don't ever try to hold it back. But I think if I had fully let myself go during this film, I may have just cried my eyes out.

Now, the fact that I cry during one film more than the other doesn't make either film better. For example, I cry less during Magnolia than I did during this, but I still think Magnolia's a better film. But this is in fact a great film. Yet another addition to my Five-Star Club. That makes three within one week.

I had  Grave of the Fireflies recommended to me over a year ago, by a friend who called it one of the biggest tear-jerkers ever. I brushed off the statement, as many have said the same about other movies which I don't cry during (for example, The Lion King, which I find to be enormously overrated).

Now, having watched the film, I know he was right. It is such an enormously tragic and dark story. No matter your position on World War II and who was right, you can't help but feel bad for these people. This depressing story of a brother and sister just trying to survive is truly heartbreaking.

There's not much that I can say on the film that's unique. It's already been claimed by many as a tearjerker, as one of the greatest movies ever and so on. What I can say has been likely been said before, but I'll say it nonetheless: Grave of the Fireflies is one of the best movies I've seen, but it's unlikely that I'll watch unless I really just feel like crying for some reason or I'm introducing a friend to this magnificent work of art.

Man on Fire [Film Review]

This is counted as one of the few times I have ever hated the cinematography in a film. I mean, most films have pretty good cinematography, even some of the worst films ever have at least decent cinematography.

But Tony Scott... Tony dang Scott ticks me off. I mean, his style was enjoyable in The Taking of Pelham 123, at least it was for me. But here, it is just so wild and the editing is so horrid and it just barrages you. It is an obnoxious type of visuals that is intended to excite the audience but at least for me, it just serves to make the film more unpleasant.

Aside from that, as a film is not simply dependent only on cinematography, the film is still rather disappointing. It's a highly unoriginal, slow, and rather unpleasant story. There's hardly any character development, and a majority of the film is spent with the main character interrogating characters and then killing them.

The music sports one of the worst  uses of Clair De Lune I've seen in film, and there have been MANY uses of that beautiful composition in film. But, fortunately, it does feature a use of Oyo Como Va, a song used in The Big Lebowski which was at the very least entertaining.

Man on Fire is a dull, uninteresting and all-around obnoxious film. I can't believe some people have given this a five-star film. Sure, it has a few somewhat deep moment now and then, but in the entire context of the film it's just... really, the best word I can use to describe the film, and I've already used it at least twice in this review, is obnoxious. I just can't bare it, and I definitely don't want to watch it again, nor would I recommend it.

Boyhood [Film Review]

"Grow up, Mason."

So, I just saw Boyhood.

This, not Lost in Translation, is the definition of a film experience (though Lost in Translation is a good example).

The fact that a film was twelve years in the making obviously gives it some pointers to start with, but it doesn't make a great film. I mean, someone could have spent twelve years making some horrible film like Grown Ups 2, and it would have been a horrid waste of twelve years. But this, this is far from a waste. This is a beautiful, heartbreaking yet heartwarming work of art. This is rare. This is a truly great film. I mean, wow.

Throughout the film, I admit I had doubts. But you can't judge a film halfway through, a quarter of the way through, or even a minute from the end. And you especially can't do it without watching the final act (as some of my friends did with Gravity, which made me consider them as less intelligent than I did before). That especially applies to this film. I mean at points, you may even hate the main character of this film.

But that's part of this film. It's a beautiful portrait of life and growing up. It shows some dramatic changes in this boy's life. I disagree that this could be called girlhood, as one reviewer on this site stated, but it could very well have been called Motherhood or Fatherhood. So many characters are intensely explored. Instead of going for the dramatic, Boyhood goes for realism, and it makes the film enormously relatable.

On the technical style the film displays similar excellence. The soundtrack is made up of many classic songs, from The Beatles to The Black Keys, to Arcade Fire. And the cinematography is tremendous, using many long tracking shots, something Linklater became known for with his Before series.

The performances are magnificent, with Ellar Coltrane's outstanding twelve-year debut, Ethan Hawke and Patricia Arquette their usual fantastic selves, and a supporting cast which includes an actress from Bottle Rocket, which I continually pointed out to my brother ("I think that's the girl from Bottle Rocket. That's totally the girl from Bottle Rocket. That's her. Oh my gosh!").

Perfect as a full work of art, this goes down in my book as one of the best films ever. Though you all may hate me for saying it, I still think that The Grand Budapest Hotel is better. But that doesn't mean this is bad. Not even close. This was one of the most rewarding cinema experiences of my life. 2014 has proven to be a far better year than 2013 thus far, and I have another film to add to the five-star club and to my list of movies to buy.

Oh, and also. I advise everyone to SEE THIS IN THE THEATER. If you watch it at home or something you are bound to be distracted. THIS IS AN EXPERIENCE. WATCH IN THEATER. SERIOUSLY.

Oh, and I almost cried at a few points.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street [Film Review]

I'm not a huge fan of Burton. I hate, hate, hate, hate, HATED Beetlejuice. His Batman was meh at best. Though I did enjoy Charlie and the Chocolate Factory more than some, and I believe that he made a masterpiece with Big Fish, generally his work has disappointed me, and his films are very overrated by most, at least by the non-film critiquing crowd.

But this is a really excellent film, and possibly where his dark style works best with the story and script. In many of his other films it has been very underwhelming or completely ruined the entire movie. Here it works just splendidly, both visually and tonally. It's really just the perfect way to tell this story.

It's also a great cast, or at least a great leading cast. Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, two Burton favorites, work terrifically together, especially in their incredible duets. Some other more minor performances, such as that of Sacha Baron Cohen, Timothy Spall, and Alan Rickman, are also great.

The plot of the film is immensely dark and horrific when thought of seriously, but Stephen Sondheim's excellent and often comedic lyrics lighten the mood a lot. The film could be placed in the odd genre which very few films have occupied, musical comedic horror. Sondheim's skill here also gives me reason to anticipate the upcoming film, Into the Woods, despite the fact that it will likely be cheesed up by Disney.

Of the three Burton films I have really enjoyed, this is my least favorite, but its still tremendous. Granted its likely more enjoyable for me in Winter for some odd reason, but the music is always lovable and the characters are beautifully eccentric.

O Brother, Where Art Thou [Film Review]

     I have put off giving this a five star rating for quite a while. And I really don't know why, because it is an incredible film that possesses a lot of the same excellence that other Coen brothers films. It's seriously my family's favorite film. Likely the film that my mother and I agree most on. It is really one of their finest films.
     It is in all ways tremendous. The dialogue first of all, is brilliant as it always is with the Coens. Every line is genius. The cinematography is beautiful and the portrayal of nature with the digital coloring is some of Deakins' best work.
     And the soundtrack. That soundtrack. Seriously, that soundtrack is just utterly incredible. Perfect is a good word for it. It's filled with folk songs and the primary song, Man of Constant Sorrow is tremendous.
     The cast contains many enormously talented actors that show a lot of skill in both dramatic and comedic roles, often both in one. John Turturro, John Goodman and George Clooney are all stupendous, and while Tim Blake Nelson is not really as good as the actors surrounding him, he certainly does bring something to the table.
     This comedic retelling of Homer's Odyssey is a classic. It never gets old, and I have seen it at least twenty times. Highly entertaining and a point of connection between my interests and my family's interests, this is a true five star film, and has been deserving of that rating all this time that I've been denying it that position.

Welcome to the five star club, O Brother, Where Art Thou.

Insomnia (1997) [Film Review]

I had three good reasons to watch this film.
1. Christopher Nolan, my ex-favorite filmmaker did a remake of it.
2. Roger Ebert gave it a great review
3. It got a Criterion release.

So, the hype around this film was pretty good. But did it really reach my hopes for it? Not really. Often originals are better than the remake, but that's not the case here. Despite the fact that Insomnia is my least favorite of Nolan's films, this still isn't as good as Nolan's version.

Still, it is good. It has a lot of great themes, and despite the fact that I knew the basic storyline from Nolan's film it still managed to be captivating at times, and for some reason I gasped when the main character turns over that body...

The performances are excellent for the most part. I mean really, Stellan Skarsgard is incredible. Granted we don't explore his character near as much as we do his counterpart in Nolan's film, but it's decent competition. Pacino vs. Skarsgard comes out as a tie.

The cinematography is superb, really. That was likely one of the best parts of the film, and of course the pivotal scene, the one that pretty much the plot of both is built on had to be shot well and it was. The climax of this film, though, was hardly a climax, and instead it really just dies down slowly, therefore not nearing the incredible ending to Nolan's film.

I apologize for so much of this review comparing this film to Nolan's remake, but that's most of what I have to talk about. I will say that this was good, and had some great cinematography and acting, and the fact that this was where the idea originated does gain the film a lot of respect. But Nolan manages to eclipse the original.

Insidious: Chapter 2 [Film Review]

This is not my definition of a good horror movie. But then again, only one film to my recollection has met my standards for a good horror movie, and that's The Shining.

Horror is in fact my least favorite genre. And it's not because I don't like to be scared. I love to be scared. But I like to be horrified, I want to be in genuine shock. This stuff here? This is what I call 'boo' scares.

Insidious: Chapter 2 is composed nearly entirely out of that type of scare. It exercises silence and darkness, and then it raises the volume suddenly and goes boo. Ah. Behold the horror. *Sarcasm*. I hardly found any of this genuinely horrifying, except one single scene near the end, which was mostly due to Patrick Wilson, who, while not giving an excellent performance, does some incredible facial expressions.

The music is mainly your classic horror movie soundtrack. Composed primarily of shrill violins that are intended to thrill, it becomes really rather dull. Which brings me to another fault of the majority of horror films: they mistake slowness and dullness for suspense.

I don't know, maybe my standards are too high. One could be led to that conclusion because of the fact that I have only really liked a single horror film in my entire life, but there you have it. I really don't think I have standards that are too high. I just want a horror film to leave me shocked and speechless by the end. Which this film does not do. Insidious: Chapter 2 is a dull, ordinary exercise in boo scares.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier [Film Review]

Captain America was my least favorite of Phase One of the Marvel studios films, apart from The Avengers, which I kinda sorta hated. But I had high hopes for this film, as the reviews were good, all my friends said it was awesome. But then again, that was the case with The Avengers.

Also. My mother said this was better than The Grand Budapest Hotel. Bull.

That said, it was fun. The performers are decent, Samuel Jackson's fun, Chris Evan's okay. Scarlett Johanson's incredible. It's astonishing that such a highly esteemed actor as Robert Redford is in this film, but I guess he thought it was worth it.

I will admit that this is likely the most politically charged Marvel film yet, as well as likely its most conspiratorial. The plot is rather complex and brings memories of two Tom Cruise films forth... Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol and Minority Report.

But really, the fact is about this one is for me, it was not engaging in the slightest. The fight scenes were seldom well shot and never had me fearing for anyone's life at all. I always felt certain that everyone would come out of it in the end. And that's a big problem with a lot of Marvel films, is that they barely ever take risks (unlike Nolan's Batman series). They've always got tons and tons of sequels planned, and are constantly trying to please their comic book loving fan base that nothing crazy ever really happens.

What it really comes down to is that Captain America: The Winter Soldier is basically clean, ordinary summer entertainment. And every once in a while there's nothing wrong with that. Like I said, it is fun. Though it's really not memorable in the slightest, it's decent.

The Amazing Spider-Man 2 [Film Review]

I may be alone here in my opinion that this is far greater than its predecessor. Or at least somewhat alone. You can never really be totally alone in your opinion on a film these days actually... anyway.

It's true, when it comes to the script and the originality of the film, The Amazing Spider-Man 2 suffers. It's got numerous cliches, among them the use of The Blue Danube in a torturous sequence, cheesy villain lines (Time to light my candles), and odd self-referential musical numbers. One of the villains also references himself as the comic-book name. He calls himself Electro. I nearly blushed it was so painfully odd and awkward. Seriously, in this film which is obviously trying for a more realistic telling of the Spider-Man series, the characters should not reference themselves that way.

But aside from all that oddness, it is one heck of an experience. Obviously it's visually splendid. That's what all the reviews have been saying, basically they say it sucks but it looks good. Some of the shots are just fantastic, like in one shot we travel through a crowd in immediate danger, quickly zooming in on what could possibly each of their fates. The camera, in these effects-laden shots, travels quickly, and it's just exhilarating. The music contributes here, a fantastic collaboration between Hans Zimmer and Pharrell Williams (I'm not too fond of the latter, I kind of hated Happy), a loud electro-inspired soundtrack that brings a thrill to the many many action sequences.

Now we come to the action sequences. Most said there were too many, and that the emotions should be explored more as they were in the predecessor. During my viewing of the film, however, I was thinking quite the opposite. I thought they were dwelling on emotion far too much, and that the issues between Gwen Stacy and Peter Parker had already been resolved in the previous film. That's just me though.

All in all, this was an enjoyable ride, albeit cliched. It's fun, visually intense, with an incredibly strong climax. Peter Parker is again his witty self that was in The Amazing Spider-Man, making jokes that would have likely been made far more cheesy if done in a Sam Raimi film.

The Grand Budapest Hotel [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

“To him who has often told the tales of others, many tales will be told.”

-Author

            In Wes Anderson’s most recent film, the popular and brilliant auteur finally bests himself after the phenomenal Rushmore. The Grand Budapest Hotel is the second Wes Anderson film I watched in theaters, and after exiting the theater with my brothers, I was the only one of us who was still mentioning how absolutely spectacular the film was, hours after we had watched it. Every single element of this masterpiece is far more than satisfying, and Anderson exceeds all expectations. It is both an absolutely epic film and an incredible experience.

            Wes Anderson’s style reaches its highest, most developed point in his astonishing career in this film. Every individual shot is delicately engineered and brilliantly executed. I have now come to the conclusion that this film is in fact more detailed than Fantastic Mr. Fox, and each shot is packed to the brim with a specifically thrilling class of Wesiness, and more symmetry and lateral whip-pans are present than ever before. The film demonstrates massive blocking, overwhelming choreography, an intensely beautiful color scheme. The beauty of the framing of this film is just jaw dropping, and the calm yet hugely beautiful collaboration of the sometimes faded and sometimes strong colors astonishes at every second, and often melds with the mood of the moment well. In fact, often the lighting in the background changes rather obviously to work with the current scene. The three aspect ratios that the film sports, used for its three separate time periods, show how much control Wes has over this particular film. He also uses the 4:3 aspect ratio as no one has before. After Moonrise Kingdom’s brief foray into relative normality, Wes Anderson has returned to his excitingly quick witted, creative self.

            This camerawork is magnificent. All movements and turns are extraordinarily solid. Every second is definite and powerful, and it does remind one of the power that Wes Anderson had on Fantastic Mr. Fox. That film of course had this effect, as Anderson did indeed control each and every frame, literally. He could quite easily control exactly where the camera stopped and where it went. With live action it’s naturally far more difficult to have this effect on the visuals of his film. Despite that, Anderson is still able to exude the same perfectly composed brilliance in cinematography (thanks in part, of course, to Robert Yeoman).

            Wes Anderson makes several references to his other films. He has some shots on trains, and the setup of those shots may remind one of The Darjeeling Limited. He has shots on motorcycles in the same fashion as in Fantastic Mr. Fox, with on character’s head poking out from behind the driver of the bike. In addition, he uses several miniatures in the film, brilliantly and beautifully. The Grand Budapest Hotel is also Wes Anderson’s most violent and suspenseful film yet. Several characters are brutally murdered, one is beheaded, fingers are chopped off, and in the climax of the film there’s a gigantic shootout.  

            Add to all of this, the score. Alexandre Desplat’s third soundtrack for Wes Anderson is without a doubt his best yet. It’s magnificently energetic, adding just the right tone to each and every scene, at least those touches that Wes could not provide himself. This score works on several themes, most of which are very fast. They’re used exceptionally well in the film, most notably in a chase scene and the climax of the film. The movie has an odd lack of any sort of compiled soundtrack, but Desplat handsomely compensates for that with ease, causing the film to feel even more original.

            The cast is amazing, debatably the best that Anderson has yet had. We are presented with an enormous number of cameos, and we have some rather prominent actors playing some rather miniscule roles. Among this great crew are Owen Wilson, Bill Murray (of course), Bob Balaban, Wallace Wolodarsky and Waris Ahluwalia. All of these actors have had a role in at least one of Anderson’s previous films. Some of the children from Moonrise Kingdom also make some minor appearances. And the main cast is also superb. Ralph Fiennes is extraordinary and says every line with grace and candor, in the precise and delicate way that they should be said. Tony Revolori displays a similar expertise and will likely be returning in future Anderson movies. Willem Dafoe expertly portrays a chilling assassin, known professionally as a ‘private inquiry agent’. Oscar-winning actress Tilda Swinton is hardly recognizable in pounds of makeup as the dowager countess, Madame Celine Villeneuve Desgoffe und Taxis, and Adrien Brody plays a wildly cursing, temperamental and money-driven count with murderous intentions.

            This story is filled with many moving parts and highly influential characters. All the characters have different intentions, which makes the plot all the more exciting and suspenseful. A. J. Henckels is trying to enforce the law but has a friendship with M. Gustave H., who is the very man he is after. Dmitri, the spoiled son of Madame D., is working only for selfish gains and seems willing to cut down anyone in his path (at least via J.G. Jopling, the murderer). And Agatha, Zero’s beloved fiancé, has a devotion to Zero of course, but also wishes to remain morally right, as she states, “I don’t trade in stolen property!”

            Oddly, very few relationships are explored, but are instead rooted in past and off-screen events. Among these sorts of relationships are the relationship between Madame D. and Gustave H., the relationship between Henckels and Gustave H., and the relationship between Zero and Agatha. This give much support to part of the focus of the film, which is the idea and the art of storytelling. In storytelling, not all is revealed. We don’t know much about some of these relationships because either Zero doesn’t know, or he is not willing to speak of them (as is the case with his relationship with Agatha). The only truly well explored relationship in the story is of course, the one we should know well and the one that Zero would love to reminisce about the most: his relationship with the concierge, Gustave H., who instead of remaining simply his employer, becomes a true friend, a sort of brother.

            Wes Anderson defines the word auteur in nearly all of his films. His style and the way that he accentuates everything about a film sets him apart from your normal director. Composed of many exciting and magnificent and even grand scenes, this film is a captivating, fun, adventurous journey. Everything visual, from the decoration of all of the locations (especially the Grand Budapest), to the elaborate and eye-catching wardrobe is beautiful, and demonstrates great control from Anderson. The Grand Budapest Hotel examines the beauty of storytelling with its story within a story. 

Moonrise Kingdom [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

“I can’t argue against anything you’re saying. But then again, I don’t have to. Because you’re twelve years old.”

-Captain Sharp

            Because of Wes Anderson’s distinctive style, many people have tried to imitate it, often attempting to use it in comedic ways. They make videos of normal everyday activities, or films, or even film credits, and describe them as, ‘in the style of Wes Anderson’. People comment on these videos, and describe them as perfectly imitating Anderson’s visual trademarks. The problem that I have with this is that Wes Anderson’s style is so immensely distinct that it is nearly impossible for anyone to properly imitate. This is also a problem I have with this film: it feels like an imitation. It does not feel fully Wesian. A big part of Anderson’s style is the quirks, and the odd and comedic dialogue. All of this film seems to really have down about Anderson’s style is the camera setup, and in some scene is doesn’t even have that. So for me, this, and not Bottle Rocket, is the least Andersony of Wes Anderson’s films. It’s difficult for me to fully describe what makes this both my least favorite of Wes Anderson’s films and still a masterpiece of some kind, but that is what I will aim to do here.

            Moonrise Kingdom certainly does have at least some charm, visible from the very opening of the film. It begins powerfully and continues on tenderly. But there is really something valuable to Anderson’s films that’s absent here. It really feels, in a way, like a simple independent or foreign film, with some inspiration from Wes Anderson. I used to believe that it was quirky but not stylistic, but really it’s quite the opposite. The imaginative, creative quirks that energized his earlier film (particularly The Life Aquatic) are far fewer here. It has some laughs and occasional oddities, but when one tries to think of the film that would potentially fill a gap between Fantastic Mr. Fox and The Grand Budapest Hotel, this film does not fit. In fact, it would seem more logical for one to come directly after the other than have this film in between.            

            As for my opinion that Moonrise Kingdom is still some kind of masterpiece, it’s now even more difficult to describe in the context of what I’ve already written here. I’ll begin by expanding on the style but focusing on the positives.  Like I said, to be sure, it is stylistic, but there are very few quirks to found. The camera style is heavily evident and often traditionally Andersonian, with a large use of symmetry, lateral whip-pans and close-up inserts of handwritten letters. Among the few quirks to be found are a character named Social Services, an unbelievably tall treehouse, and binoculars which are a magic power. These do contribute to it, but the style is where we truly feel the most missing.

            Another element that really thrives, along with the aforementioned visual style, is the soundtrack. The film opens brilliantly and loudly with Benjamin Britten’s Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra. It continues with a score from Alexandre Desplat, his second contribution to Anderson’s filmography. It is a far more controlled, classical, and symphonic composition than his previous score. It is delicate and reserved yet playful. Unfortunately, there is a sad absence of a Rolling Stones song, which is present in all of Wes’ previous films. It could be said that Desplat makes up for that with this brilliant soundtrack.

            This cast has a large number of child actors, including the main two characters: Kara Hayward and Jared Gilman. They are absolutely excellent, and are, to be honest, among the finest child actors I’ve ever seen in a film. Edward Norton and Tilda Swinton are great additions to the Wes Anderson cast that carries on into The Grand Budapest Hotel. We also have some tremendous cameos from splendid actors like Jason Schwartzman, and a cameo from Eric Chase Anderson.

            Also, this film is absolutely filled, like never before, with heavily, enormously depressed characters all around. It seems like in this film, children act like adults, and adults act a lot like children at times. This is a theme that brings up memories of the characters in Rushmore. Sam Shakusky seems to miss his biological parents a lot, especially his mother, as he keeps a pin that she gave him. He’s very misunderstood by his foster parents. Suzy is similarly misunderstood. Their similarities are demonstrated in the ‘letters’ scene, as we get only parts of their letters to each other and they merge seamlessly on into the next despite the fact that they’re interruptions. But though Sam seems to really want to be loved and taken into a loving home, Suzy seems oddly unaffected by the absolute wreckage of her parents’ marriage. This is possibly because she wishes to be an orphan. When the two, Sam and Suzy, finally elope, it gives them both a great amount of freedom. They’re really able to relate to each other in many ways, and that is where their genuine love for each other springs up. But the other primary relationship in the film only seems to be collapsing: that of Suzy’s parents, the Bishops. The reason for their slow separation never is explained, and is somewhat perplexing. One could at first blame it on Mrs. Bishop’s affair with Captain Sharp, the ‘sad, dumb, police man’, but it seems as if that would be more of a symptom than a cause.

            Scout Master Ward, on the other hand, seems to be forming a healthy relationship with a lady, Becky, on the side. The relationship is seen subtly developing throughout the film, in the background of several scenes, beginning with the offering of a cigarette, and then being confirmed at the end of the movie with a picture of her on Ward’s desk. Hardly any dialogue is exchanged between the two, but it is an entertaining and uplifting subplot.

            Unfortunately, it seems through all of these comments and references, I’ve only made separate points for and against the film’s quality, and never actually had them confront each other. So I will now. Though the quirks are lacking, and the style doesn’t seem entirely developed, the emotional importance and moral message of the film, which seems to be that love can genuinely be found, even by children and broken love can be resolved, makes up for the film’s lacking parts. The characters are what really make this film. Roman Coppola and Wes Anderson have made an excellent script about a childhood romance that is, on the surface, Anderson’s most depressing work, but is on a deeper level, greatly inspiring. Though the road to the end of the film is dark and depressing, and suicide is quite likely contemplated by more than just the two main characters, everything does end happily. Beautiful relationships have developed at the end, and both the adults and children have learned a good lesson. True, it is rather stereotypical for a Wes Anderson movie, but the delivery of the message is just different enough for it to be unique.

Fantastic Mr. Fox [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

“I understand what you’re saying, and your comments are valuable… but I’m gonna ignore your advice.”

-[Fantastic] Mr. Fox

            I have seen two of Wes Anderson’s eight films in the theater. The first of them is in fact the first film I ever saw of Anderson’s, which is this film. As my very naïve, inexperienced, younger self, I didn’t like it because of its differences from Roald Dahl’s beloved book. Honestly, looking back, I realize that I had no idea what I was talking about. Wes Anderson’s contributions and changes to the classic are superb and incredible, as well as highly creative. He adds exactly the right tone to the characters, fleshing all of them out fully and giving them life.

            When one thinks of the art of stop-motion animation in relevance with artistic director Wes Anderson, they may likely realize that it fits his style as well as the train in The Darjeeling Limited. Because of the individual focus on every single frame that is essential to stop-motion, Anderson is able to pack loads of glorious detail into the film. Wes Anderson is able to control the cameras every move with this format, as well as his characters’ movements. Basically, stop-motion is perfect for Wes Anderson in all ways, and is in contest with The Grand Budapest Hotel when it comes to the amount of control that Wes Anderson shows over the medium. One can only hope that he will make a return to animation someday.

            The characters in this film often do what has been done more subtly in other Anderson films. They break the fourth wall. Some characters glance at the camera in desperate moments of panic. Kylie answers a question asked by one of the three fearsome farmers, despite the fact that they are far aboveground. After this, Ash pops up out of nowhere, seemingly points at us, the audience, through the camera, and asks, “What’s that?” Wes Anderson’s film is truly not your ordinary animated film.

            Wes Anderson also now has a new composer for this film. Alexandre Desplat, who has scored such incredible films as Terrence Malick’s masterpiece, Tree of Life and Tom Hooper’s The King’s Speech, now contributes his amazing skills to construct an absolutely tremendous soundtrack. He gives the film a lot of energy, with quickness and rambunctiousness. However, along with this original score, we have an excellent compiled soundtrack. Incredibly diverse, the soundtrack contains many songs from Burl Ives, The Beach Boys, Georges Delerue, and of course, The Rolling Stones. In this film, also, is a musical number, played by a character named Petey, which all the characters, though miles away from each other, dance to.

            The main character of the film, Mr. Fox (the fantastic), is far from a role model. He robs farmers, he’s enormously, even detestably prideful, and is deceitful towards his family. Mrs. Fox doesn’t do a great job of putting up with this, but she is a loving wife to her husband. I disagree when people act as if Mr. Fox should be offended when Felicity Fox confesses that she never should have married him though. I believe that this is simply a revelation on her part. For her well being, it wasn’t a wise decision. But she does indeed love him. However, Ash, their son, feels unappreciated and is basically the opposite of Schwartzman’s character in The Darjeeling Limited. Whereas Jack Whitman despised being included in family affairs and issues, Ash yearns to be noticed, but is surrounded by such impressive, well-known, and even fantastic creatures that his own talents are overlooked. For this reason, he dislikes his incredibly talented spotlight-stealing cousin, Kristofferson. Ash’s father is more impressed by that skilled and athletic fox than he is with his own son. But Kristofferson is also in quite the predicament, as his uncle is suffering from double pneumonia, and not only that, but he is thrown into a dysfunctional house where he’s led into crime, complicated family issues, and a badly timed midlife crisis.

            The vocal actors are made up, unsurprisingly, of Anderson’s usual cast, excluding the two main actors. George Clooney, in what I believe is his fourth performance as a thief (the other three, two my knowledge, being the Ocean’s Eleven series), seems to really enjoy that type of character. As Mr. Fox, he is loud and proud, which is best represented in the feast scene, as he obnoxiously interrupts Badger, the lawyer. Meryl Streep shows herself, as always, to be capable of filling all sorts of roles. Eric Chase Anderson, who has had cameos in Wes Anderson’s other films, finally has his first primary role, does a fantastic job. Wes Anderson himself also has his biggest cameo ever, as the Weasel real-estate agent.

            Finally, Wes Anderson’s style is at its most detailed yet. For example, an insert of a newspaper, upon further inspection, can be seen to contain excerpts from Roald Dahl’s original children’s book. 

Another sign of this unbelievable detail is the scene depicting a sport called ‘Whackbat’. We hear a quick and concise description of the sport, describing how the insanely complex game is played, as we watch the game being played with quickly drawn lines, ‘x’s and ‘o’s showing something like a football play. The film also has a color scheme as defined as The Grand Budapest Hotel. Wes also uses some grand originality, like his use of the word ‘cuss’ in place of all cuss words.

            This wicked game of revenge is actually, surprisingly, one of Wes Anderson’s most delightful films. It’s filled with some rather heartfelt scenes, one of which takes place near the end of the film, a conversation between Ash and his father, which nearly causes some to tear up (myself included to be honest). The film is incredibly uplifting and stupendously enjoyable. Anderson humanizes foxes in this amazing film, but still allows them to retain some of their base, and important ‘wild animal craziness’.

            

The Darjeeling Limited [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

Patricia Whitman: “Yes, the past happened. But it’s over, isn’t it?”

Peter Whitman: “Not for us.”

            The very idea of a spiritual journey that involves an itinerary makes no sense. A spiritual journey is normally a string of coincidences or of simple occurrences that affect one’s spirit. Unfortunately, the misconception of the three brothers that are the center of The Darjeeling Limited, Francis, Peter, and Jack Whitman, or perhaps simply the misconception of Francis, is that it can be planned. But incidentally, this misguided and intentional spiritual journey ends up being an indirect cause of an unintentional, genuine spiritual journey. That, along with the obvious and directly addressed metaphors, the powerful and engaging style, the lovely music, the enormously relatable characters, and the brilliant acting, is just some of what makes Wes Anderson’s fifth film great.

            After the critically ridiculed film, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Wes Anderson released his next inevitably misunderstood masterpiece, The Darjeeling Limited. It received somewhat greater critical approval, but didn’t come near the fantastic success he had experienced with Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums. Nonetheless, it is an absolute gem. Highly underappreciated, it is an emotional, intelligent, witty and comic film, with tremendous visuals and traditional Wesisms.

            Wes Anderson’s style, instead of showing absence or extremity in this film, shows more growth. In more ways than one, this film feels like a definite step towards the Wes Anderson we know today. Whereas The Life Aquatic was heavily stylistic and used many long shots which complimented its creativity, and Rushmore worked in brilliant excess, The Darjeeling Limited seems to be more of a calm reflection on the past, allowing Wes Anderson’s style to advance in subtle leaps and bounds.

            The train that is the primary setting for the film as well as the title location is the perfect setting for a Wes Anderson film. It gives Anderson many opportunities to give the camera more energy, as the tight-knit nature of the rooms and cars of the train gives way to a huge number of lateral whip-pans. Where there were few in Bottle Rocket, now there are many. And of course, as is to be expected in a Wes Anderson film, there the bits of peculiarity, specifically a child holding a gun near the side of the frame while Peter Whitman prays, and the fact that Jack Whitman, played by Jason Schwartzman, goes barefoot for almost all of the film. 

In this nature, everything in the film feels homemade. This is a feeling that Wes Anderson has admitted he likes to put into films, as it adds a sense of nostalgia.

            The music of the film also reflects this nostalgia. For the first time, Mark Mothersbaugh does not contribute to the soundtrack at all, and instead we are subject to a compiled soundtrack, from the scores of the film of director Satyajit Ray, whom Wes has identified as a great influence on his films. In fact, a portrait of the director can be found near the end of The Darjeeling Limited, hanging on an interior wall of ‘The Bengal Lancer’. This music that is used is often very soft, and adds the right feeling to the environment and the relationships that are studies in the film. There are other pieces of music used in the film, such as Clair De Lune, which is used in a calm, melancholy scene of reflection. Of course, there are some songs from The Kinks, which are most often used in slow-motion shots.

            These relationships examined are some of the most intriguing and relatable Wes has ever put on the screen. The three brothers are all distinct, and a viewer can normally connect to one if not all of them in some way. Francis Whitman’s facial injuries are possibly a literal representation of the emotional injuries sustained from his father’s death and his mother’s abandonment. Despite the fact that his mother has left him and his brothers and therefore the entire remainder of the family, he still clearly loves her and is very close to her, seen clearly in the fact that he acts a lot like her. Jack Whitman is a lone wolf, both in sleeping preferences and in attitude. Like his mother, he seemingly yearns for separation from his overly trouble family, as he commands Francis, “Stop including me.” One can easily note that he was in fact the one with the return ticket, ready for his plans to change so that he could depart from his brothers before the arranged spiritual journey was complete. And Peter Whitman is the hardest to examine, as he appears to be the most hard headed member of the family, stubborn and determined in his ways. He has very odd ideas of marriage, possibly attained from his observance of his mother and father’s relationship (we do not know how the brothers’ parents’ relationship was). He has a family, but seems to dislike being forced to have one and the commitment that it entails. He is the one who is most resistant to Francis’ plans and generally to Francis himself. When Francis reminds Peter that he loves him, his only response is, “Thank you.” In addition, all of the characters are very stuck in the past.

            These characters are acted beautifully. I’d like to first address the oddity of Bill Murray’s role. This is his most minor role ever in a Wes Anderson film. If one were to start the film with absolutely no prior knowledge of it, they may easily presume that he was the main character. But instead, he serves as a reminder of the outside world, something that rarely enters many stories. Stories normally have their set of characters, and any one who is not affiliated with the story at hand is of course, and with good reason, ignored. This is part of what makes this thrilling opening so puzzling. As Peter Whitman stares after the devastated businessman played by Murray, it almost seems to set the idea that the message of this film is more diverse, to affect more.

             The actors who play the three brothers are incredible. Owen Wilson is back in his normal control-freak role, but the film’s heavy focus on the relationship between the three characters allows for more depth to build in his character. Adrien Brody, an excellent and well-known actor (The Pianist, King Kong), acts here in his first of three collaborations with Wes Anderson, the other two being Fantastic Mr. Fox, and The Grand Budapest Hotel. As always with Wes Anderson newcomers, he fits into the world perfectly. This makes one wonder, is the common denominator simply the excellent actors or the excellent direction? Jason Schwartzman is back in his second collaboration with Anderson. It’s surprising that Anderson didn’t use him earlier. It’s good that he appears in every one of Wes Anderson’s films after this, including his short films (see Castello Cavalcanti).

            This film about spiritual journeys and at its base about relationships and family ties, ends up being a sort of spiritual journey itself. It’s enlightening, it’s emotional, and it’s engaging. There are many things to love about this film, and those things also make it incredibly rewatchable, filled with laughs and some tears. As is a common theme in Wes Anderson films, it works well as both easy viewing, as well as a film to be deeply examined. This is a powerful move towards Wes Anderson’s style that many love today, both in its cinematography and in its attitude. The Darjeeling Limited, another emotionally complex film from Anderson, is a pleasure and a beautiful experience.

The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

“He’s the Zissou.”

-Esteban Du Plantier

            The critical and commercial reception of Wes Anderson’s fourth film, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, was and is the lowest in his filmography. Many critics disliked it, claiming generally that it was a classic case of style over substance, something the grand auteur has often been accused of having in his work. However, the opinions of this film have improved over time, and along with it, the number of Anderson’s fans has grown. This has happened with several films throughout the years, like Darren Aronofsky’s The Fountain. In cases like these, initial critical disapproval is overcome by cult fanbases, most notably and possibly in one of the most extreme cases with The Big Lebowski. That 1998 masterpiece was a box office flop. Many critics had different hopes for the film, as the Coen brothers had previously directed the critically acclaimed classic American film, Fargo. The film, however, went on to attain a gigantic cult following, now hosting a Lebowski fest in several cities each year. Though The Life Aquatic doesn’t have near as much of an audience as that great comedy, it is still hugely imaginative and creative, and is arguable the film that Wes Anderson was born to make.

            In The Royal Tenenbaums, the style was a mellower version of Rushmore’s style. However, here the energy that Rushmore possessed has returned somewhat, with a new sort of looseness in the camera. Symmetry is very rarely spotted, and the camera commonly feels rather handheld. Present, of course, are the well-known panning shots and crash zooms. But with The Life Aquatic, the style feels more like Wesian (a term I made to make it easier to refer to Wes Anderson’s style) with a touch of documentary.

            The film also uses some great background action. This is something that Wes Anderson is known for these days, and this is really the first time it is notably employed, and possibly the most extreme use. We are able to see dolphins nosing into a scene in the background, cats playing around, and members of the Zissou crew participating in rituals from afar (in one scene near the end, Klaus participates in an odd sort of team huddle from yards away).

            Wes’ writing is one of the greatest advancements of the film, most notably in his skills with subtle comedy. The Life Aquatic practically begs to be watched several times. With the speed at which the lines are delivered and the overpowering style of the film, the humor that many lines possess may not be caught on first viewing. Some perfect examples of this are lines like, “We might have them both mixed up or it may be the other way around…” and this brilliant exchange of dialogue here:

Steve: Happy with the piece, Jane?

Jane: What are you doing in here?

Steve: Am I? No.

            Because of this swift and bullet-paced dialogue, and the fact that I have had the advantage of having seen the film several times, I often find myself laughing alone during the film.

            With The Life Aquatic, Wes Anderson’s imagination goes absolutely wild. He makes up fascinating fish, and crafts a splendidly eccentric crew. He creates the Belafonte, a ship that is shown cut in half in one incredibly exploratory scene, so that we can see all of its rooms and occupants in one brilliant tracking shot. There are stop motion animation pieces done by Henry Selick, like the Crayon Ponyfish and the Jaguar Shark. There are also the bits of peculiarity that fill all Wes Anderson films, like a woman who seems to feel oddly comfortable topless, and a three-legged dog. This is all excitingly imaginative, with tremendous thought put into everything, like the made up term, hydrogen psychosis (otherwise known as crazy eye).

            One of the most fantastic examples of this eccentricity in the film is the score. It’s truly Mark Mothersbaugh at his creative finest, and most unique, using Casio music with awesome energy. There’s one amazing scene that starts with the characters viewing documentary footage that the Zissou crew has shot, and trying to see which piece of original music fits it best. We hear the amateur music written by one of the characters, and then as we cut to footage of the actual film we’re watching, not shot by the Zissou crew but by Anderson, the music turns slowly into professional expertly composed music with the same theme. This is an odd sort of breaking of the fourth wall. Also used is David Bowie’s music, sung in Portuguese by Seu Jorge, and also used in their original language at the beginning and end of the film, with ‘Life on Mars’ and ‘Queen Bitch’.

            More excellence is found in Bill Murray’s performance. This is the role that he was born to play, literally written for him. He fills the role perfectly, with great energy. With his best role ever, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is Bill Murray’s own film just as it is Wes Anderson’s. The supporting cast is also terrific. Cate Blanchett, in her only performance ever for Anderson, does a wonderful job. Owen Wilson acts in a role that is the exact opposite of typecasting. Out of his comfort zone playing a character that is humble and kind, he doesn’t show a bit of weakness in his acting skills.

            The supporting cast is filled to the brim with stars. Matthew Gray Gubler, now known for Criminal Minds, acts here in his first role ever. He acts as an intern for Steve Zissou, when he was in fact Wes Anderson’s actual intern. Michael Gambon is especially excellent and hilarious, delivering his lines with a certain brilliant nonchalance that fits perfectly into the Wes Anderson style. Bud Cort is also brilliant, and Willem Dafoe acts in possibly his most comedic role ever (he normally plays villains).

            The characters played by these actors are all well developed, as are the relationships explored between them. The greatest of these is the odd relationship between Ned Plimpton (or Kingsley Zissou) and Steve (or Stevesie). This relationship is not a simple father-son relationship, it’s a possible father-possible son relationship, and this complicates things astonishingly. More complication arises in the fact that both of them are romantically interested in the same woman, Jane Winslet-Richardson, despite the fact that Steve is married to Eleanor Zissou. Steve, in spite of his age, is easily the most immature of the two, as he acts like a child in his relationship with Jane, best observed in a line which he says to Jane, “Please don’t make fun of me, I just wanted to flirt with you.” He also takes advantage, selfishly, of Ned through his supposed relation to him, taking his inherited money from his mother’s death, and having Ned take his watch shifts so that he can relax in the sauna.

            Other characters are decently explored as well. Eleanor, “the brains behind Team Zissou,” acts distant towards Steve, seemingly having lost touch with him. Her absence throughout the film is part of what gives Steve the feeling of freedom to go off chasing Jane. Jane has been a fan of Steve since her childhood, but is disappointed by the actual man. As a journalist, she has a constant responsibility to write a good and honest article, but the article is constantly supervised by Steve as he inquires of Jane, “What kind of piece are you writing, cubby? Are you gonna screw us on this deal?” She is the head of the ‘love’ triangle that involves Ned and Steve, which she describes as, “so effed up.” And Klaus Daimler, though nowhere near a main character, is the most highly defined and developed of the lower crew members. The way he seeks Steve’s recognition and praise, dislikes the addition of Ned to the crew initially like a first child dislikes his parents having another child, and the way that he slowly comes to appreciate Ned are all interesting to watch as well as hugely amusing at times.

            With The Life Aquatic, Wes Anderson makes a truly tremendous film. Critics claimed that it was overly stylistic. They said that it was self-indulgent. These statements, though they have negative intentions, because they are absolutely right. This is Wes Anderson’s magnificent self-indulgence, entertaining and wonderfully enjoyable to all who love the great filmmaker, Wes Anderson. This is the equivalent of what fans of Tarantino would enjoy about Tarantino making a film that takes place in one room and is completely constructed out of insane violence and brilliant dialogue. When an artist with an identifiable specific skill or style completely indulges that trait and doesn’t care what the critics say, there is a great form of art. And that is exactly what can be found in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

The Royal Tenenbaums [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

"You think you could start forgiving me?”

-Royal Tenenbaum

            The Royal Tenenbaums opens with a God’s eye view shot of a library book, after which the film is supposedly based. This book is actually nonexistent, so this is obviously to contribute to the film’s tone. Wes Anderson’s hands enter the film’s frame for the first time ever in his filmography, open up the book, and stamp it. This book setup is seen later in the film, in chapter page inserts. This seems to echo the curtains of Rushmore, splitting the film up into parts. This opening shot is quite possibly the most excellent and grand opening to a Wes Anderson film, as it quickly sets up much of the rest of the film. And after that exemplary shot, we enter into the rhythm of a stupendous introduction, all set to an instrumental rendition of the Beatle’s Hey Jude. A highly emotional experience, with some Anderson deadpan comedy sprinkled all throughout, The Royal Tenenbaums allows Wes to draw upon his personal experience with his own parents’ divorce to make a great family drama. In fact, this is actually the first Wes Anderson film I ever fell in love with.

            Wes’ style is far more withdrawn in this film than in its exciting brazenness in Rushmore. He places more focus on the story this way, and he gives off a more comfortable and relaxed feeling. Anderson is refined and restrains himself to give a story on a larger, more natural and deep scale. Rushmore’s energy and momentum was truly brilliant, but the thoughtful focus on characters and story in this film is what makes it almost equally great. Despite all of this, Wes Anderson’s style can still be found, and advancements can still be noted. The greatest of these advancements in my opinion is the heavy use of inserts. The most common and enormous inserts are large mosaics constructed of many copies of a single book. It seems as if every adult character in the film has written a book or play, and whenever a character is introduced we see their work this way. Subtitled montages also bring back memories of the clubs montage in Rushmore. The characters, for the first time in Anderson history, have the ridiculously consistent wardrobe. This is something that can be found in every other Wes Anderson from this point onward. And like the Belafonte in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, the Tenenbaum house on Archer Avenue feels as if it has been cut in half, like we are observers to a stage production put on by Max Fischer. There are also several bits of unexplained peculiarity, like the violent and shocking in Eli Cash’s apartment, and the Gypsy Cab, which appears conveniently and randomly.

            As for actors, Wes Anderson seems to be collecting more and more excellent performers with each film. With each new film he makes, there are actors from the previous one. Some of the most notable of these returns are Bill Murray, Owen Wilson and Luke Wilson. Bill Murray gives a very depressed and lonesome performance, likely his saddest ever. Luke Wilson gives his best performance of his career, as does Gwyneth Paltrow. Both of them show some great emotion, though Paltrow’s character does her best to hide it. Kumar Pallana also returns, in his largest and most defined role for Wes Anderson. Possibly the greatest addition to the cast that will return in an Anderson film is Anjelica Huston. Though her performance in the film is clearly not as good as Gene Hackman’s, Hackman does not make a return.

            Through Wes Anderson’s personal connection to the film’s story, he’s able to make what was at the time, his most heavily emotional film. It has an incredibly unique plot, drawing from a stereotypical setup and employing an enormous number of moving parts. Instead of family separation being a possible consequence of the events that occur in the film, it is actually a part of the premise of The Royal Tenenbaums.

            The characters are all very individual and distinct (other than Ari and Uzi who are basically twins both in appearance and in attitude). Most of them could be seen as the main character as they develop throughout the film and are affected by the events in different ways. They are all constructed brilliantly. The children of divorce, or separation in this case, which are Margot, Richie, and Chas are all illustrations of the primary possibilities of children of divorce. Richie is the kind, understanding outcome. Margot is the neutral outcome, and Chaz is the angry and grudging outcome. Also, like many of Wes Anderson’s characters, some of them try with great persistence to control things. Chaz and Royal are the primary examples of this. Chas is constantly ordering around family members. Royal calls the Tenenbaums house his in an angry conversation with Richard Sherman, despite the fact that he’s practically a guest at this time. Those who don’t try hard to control things are the kindest though not quite the happiest. Richie is a perfect example; a constantly giving, kind and loving soul, yet tortured by the restrictions that he places on himself. A unifying factor of all the family members aside from the last name (though some don’t even have that) is that they all need help. Chas and Eli muse on this fact together near the end of the film.  

            The Royal Tenenbaums is one of Wes Anderson’s most rhythmic films. Mark Mothersbaugh’s score helps construct this rhythm, with soothing and melodic tunes, which use low dramatic strings that sound very classical. A ‘Peanuts’ inspiration also assists with this atmosphere. This inspiration is referenced in the soundtrack as it uses the song ‘Christmas Time is Here’. As this is one of Wes Anderson’s saddest films, it has one of the darkest moments ever in a Wes Anderson film. Despite this dark depression, it was also likely the most beautifully shot film of his at the time of its release. For example, the cemetery scene is especially beautiful, taking place in fall and employing a rich brown palette.

            Wes Anderson’s achievements in The Royal Tenenbaums are far calmer than Rushmore. Though this, like all of Wes Anderson’s films, is a rather distinguishable step in his excellent career, it’s much more of a midpoint, something resembling a transition. It is nonetheless an original and individually excellent masterpiece, and Anderson adds his personal touch with violence where the characters have little to no reaction, deadpan comedy, and unique complexity to the commonplace setup. The Royal Tenenbaums is one  of Anderson’s most melancholy films, yet still retains Anderson’s great charm, which is something that makes all of his films infinitely accessible and remarkably appealing.

Rushmore [Marathon Review - Final Draft]

“I should be trying harder to score chicks! That’s all anyone seems to care about. That’s not my forte unfortunately.”

-Max Fischer

            It’s a difficult task to decide the very best Wes Anderson film, especially for devoted fans of director (like myself). Many critics say it is indeed Rushmore, some say that it is Moonrise Kingdom, some even claim it to be The Royal Tenenbaums. However, the majority of these statements were made before the release of The Grand Budapest Hotel, which is my personal favorite Wes Anderson film. Most seem to agree though, that Rushmore is at least among the best. Some, myself among them, claim it to be a perfect film. This of course raises the question of the differences between a masterpiece and a perfect work of art.

            I believe that the difference, or at least one of the differences, is that though a masterpiece may have everything right, display the filmmaker’s ideas well and be an engaging experience that one thinks of fondly, a truly perfect film is far more than that. A perfect film is far more rewarding through each and every viewing, and continues to hold new thoughts each time. A perfect films demonstrates excellence and greatness in every department. Each and every single frame of the film is satisfying and the film delivers greatly as a whole. Some films are called perfect, at least partially, out of respect, like Citizen Kane. While films like those may indeed be perfect, that perfection is different from what I’m trying to describe here. It is a type of perfection made from importance. The perfection that I’m describing is a far more human, more personal perfection.

            Wes Anderson’s second feature truly attains this perfection. It easily surpasses the quality of his debut (though Bottle Rocket should be respected in its own way). In Rushmore, Anderson defines his style. Everything in the film is raised to eleven in comparison to his previous film. The cast, though missing the incredible Owen Wilson (though he can be spotted in a cameo in photographs, as the deceased husband of Rosemary Cross), is splendid. The music, which shall be addressed later along with the style, is a far more important and defining element to the film. And the story is clearer, with a greater focus placed on emotion.

            Wes’ style advances hugely in Rushmore. Possibly the most notable among these dramatic developments are his use of montages. These can be found in nearly all of his films, and they are always used excellently. There were only one or two in Bottle Rocket, but in the spirit of turning the knob to eleven as previously mentioned, there are many here. Some emotional and some just downright awesome, all are fun and beautifully constructed. After Wes Anderson’s achievements in this film, he could very well be claimed as the master of the montage. The best montage, arguably, is the ironic use of the song, “A Quick One While He’s Away”. The singer repeats, “You are forgiven,” as the two main characters duke it out in a back-and-forth revenge sequence.

            Wes Anderson’s cast grows a lot here. We have some of the best from Bottle Rocket, including Kumar Pallana and Luke Wilson. We also have some added greats, chief among them being the great Bill Murray. His performance for the film was practically pro bono. He gave a blank check to Anderson for a helicopter shot. The check was never used and the shot never happened, but if it had then Murray would have in fact been losing money in his performance rather than gaining. But just because Murray was working for so little did not mean that he would give a skimpy performance. His acting in Rushmore is some of his best ever, displaying great charisma and an overwhelming sense of melancholy at once, and exhibiting a true influence from Anderson’s tremendous direction.

            Again, Kumar Pallana is impressive and comedic, despite the fact that his role is even smaller than it was in Bottle Rocket. His only actual line in the film almost seems to comically reference the film that he’s in, as near the end of the film he comments on a play put on by Max Fischer, stating, “Best play ever, man.” Seymour Cassel also shines in his first of three magnificent performances for Wes Anderson. Here he plays a humble, loving, understanding father, unfortunately unappreciated by his constantly busy and distracted son. Also, Wes Anderson’s brother, has a brief cameo as an architect.

            Finally, the star of the film, Jason Schwartzman, delivers a truly stunning debut. Schwartzman appears later in four other Wes Anderson films (though unfortunately his roles become progressively smaller with each film). He clearly follows Wes Anderson’s instruction to the t, but he brings a great flair of individual talent to the character, and is mesmerizingly energetic. Arguably, this is the greatest debut through a Wes Anderson film ever.

            The music is a large and very important part of the film. Though Mark Mothersbaugh compensates excellently in those parts where his soundtrack is used, and it opens the film grandly, the compiled soundtrack is shockingly brilliant and works perfectly in each use. The great Martin Scorsese even commented on Wes Anderson’s incredible talent with the implementation of music. “Anderson has a fine sense of how music works against an image. There’s the beautiful ending of Rushmore, when Miss Cross removes Max Fischer’s glasses and gazes into the boy’s eyes – really the eyes of her dead husband – as the Faces’ ‘Ooh La La’ plays on the soundtrack.”

            The rushing and quick notes of Mothersbaugh’s music, emanating the spirit of Mozart, contribute and emphasize some of the characteristics of our protagonist, Max Fischer. Possibly based on Wes Anderson himself (so much that I have called the film autobiographical fiction), he is a playwright, a true auteur of the stage. He walks around with a group of trusted individuals often, most often with his best friend, Dirk Calloway, quickly approving and disapproving of props and relaying orders, in this way reflecting Owen Wilson’s trademark Anderson character. The film itself feels like a play from the mind of Max, with curtains opening at the start of every month, signifying acts in the film like acts in a play. The framing is also a big influence on this theme. This style is utilized throughout the rest of Anderson’s films. As I said in my review of Bottle Rocket, Anderson’s camera often moves in a flat, strict, left and right fashion, and thus gives off the feeling of a stage play.

            Max Fischer seems to consider himself an adult in the film. He drinks wine, he smokes cigarettes, he writes and directs professional-level plays, and even falls in love with Miss Rosemary Cross, an adult. He has a very difficult time acting his age. At times he acts hopelessly immature, as in this bit of dialogue:

Peter: These are O.R. scrubs.

Max: Oh are they?

            At other times he acts like a refined, intelligent, mature and considerate adult. Though some parts of this attitude can be beneficial to Max, for him to have a good childhood and life, he has to overcome this.

            Now, back to the idea of Wes Anderson’s greatest film. This is indeed, quite possibly, his best, though not in my opinion. It’s perfect, memorable, and immensely rewatchable. Though some websites differ on this, from my personal experience it is his most highly regarded, widely approved film (though it does receive some rather stiff competition from The Grand Budapest Hotel and Moonrise Kingdom these days). Rushmore, I believe, is truly the best high school film ever made, and upon further study shows some great emotional depth, something that other Wes Anderson films have as well.