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.