Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery (3/5 Stars)

 

I had the pleasure of watching writer/director Rian Johnson’s first Knives Out mystery, appropriately entitled Knives Out, when it came out in late 2019. (This movie has nothing to do with knives per se, but the marketers perhaps wisely avoided the subtitle “A Benoit Blanc Mystery”). I wrote a review about it, which having read again, I believe holds up.

I can build upon and elaborate on the effectiveness of murder mystery tropes here. There is a moment in the original Knives Out which proves its status as a top-notch murder mystery. Like a lot of the stories in the locked room mystery genre, at the climax the Detective gathers all the suspects in the same room, reveals the killer, and explains how he figured it out. In Knives Out, I posit that one could pause the movie at that moment, rewatch the first 3/4’s of it again, think really hard about it, and actually come to the same conclusion as the detective. For that reason, even though the explanation was complicated, it didn’t come out of nowhere, and an astute observer would be rewarded for paying close attention for the first hour and a half.

The problem with Glass Onion is that when Detective Benoit reveals the killer and propounds his theory, I believe no audience member could possibly predict the killer no matter how many times they watched the beginning (at least with the reasoning given by Benoit). Why? Because Rian Johnson breaks his own Knives Out rules as to point of view and narrative.

I won’t give much away by explaining what I mean. In “Knives Out” the main characters are the maid (Ana De Armas) and Benoit. Their point of view are stand-ins for the audience. At no point, do those characters know or witness something that the audience also does not witness. There are no scenes left out that these characters are not sharing with us. This is not the case in “Glass Onion”. In both movies, we are introduced to Benoit Blanc showing up at an event not knowing who invited him. In “Knives Out”, Benoit didn’t know who had hired him and had no agenda. In “Glass Onion”, Benoit knew who had hired him and had an agenda the entire time. The movie keeps this detail from the audience until the climatic reveal.

The ultimate effect is a sense of deflation when one realizes that they have been tricked by a movie that was not as clever as it seemed. Now this, in and of itself, seems to be a theme here. A Glass Onion is apparently a metaphor for things that appear complicated, but are in fact, pretty stupid. Here, the murder and murderer is staring everyone plain in the face. This is true. The suspects involved, a politician (Kathryn Hahn), a scientist (Leslie Odum Jr.), a fashion influencer (Kate Hudson), a Twitch Star (Dave Bautista) have been summoned to the island of the Tech CEO/Genius Miles Bron (a la Elon Musk?) played by Edward Norton. On the surface, they appear to be successful and interesting people, but it turns out they are vapid and rather silly.

Then there is our hero. In Knives Out, this was the maid who physically could not tell a lie without throwing up. Here, it is Andi Brand (played by Janelle Monae) whose back story is that she was the real brains behind the tech genius’s success and got screwed out of the company in a recent court case. Dare I say it, the maid’s character even with her rare physical disorder made more sense. The problem here is that the explanation for why Andi Brand is the real genius is kind of dumb. We are told that the court case all hinges on an algorithm that she wrote on a cocktail napkin in a bar several years ago. The movie would have us believe that the information on this cocktail napkin is all it took to create a stupidly successful billion dollar tech business and that she could be frozen out of this business if she couldn’t prove that she wrote what was on that napkin. The actual tech on the napkin, (or for that matter what Alpha, the tech business, actually does) is never explained (because how could it be without sounding ridiculous), but given what I know about court cases, and the little I know about intellectual property, it all sounds pretty stupid. A more effective reason for trusting Andi Brand over Miles Bron, and maybe what the movie was relying on, is the modern audience’s inclination for believing that a white man has taken all the credit for a black woman’s work.

As Benoit explains with annoyed incredulity at the end, the murder and the murderer were really stupid and it was merely the inclination that we have as audience members to expect a more complicated mystery. Sure, I guess, but couldn’t this all just be a convenient excuse for writing a lazy and stupid murder mystery. After all, if the characters and the mystery are stupid, well, ahem, isn’t that because Rian Johnson wrote them that way?

The French Dispatch (5/5 Stars)

 

The masterpiece train keeps on rolling. That makes four in a row from Wes Anderson and the machine, an ever expanding cast of remarkable actors, production designers led by Adam Stockhausen, musicians led by Alexandre Desplat, costumes by Milena Canonero, etc etc. This time, Mr. Anderson, writer/director, spins an appetizer and three course meal of the fictional Ennui-sur-Blase, France in the form of a travelogue and three stories of the French Dispatch, a fictional satellite production of the fictional Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun.

This movie is delightful. I came to that conclusion about two minutes into the feature when the movie takes about a twenty seconds to film a French waiter stocking a tray with an assortment of apertifs, confections, and hors-d’oeurvres for delivery to Arthur Howitzer, Jr. (played by Bill Murray), editor of the title production. Like Wes Anderson’s best work, there is a loving attention to the detail here that most movies lack the ability to attempt.

The French Dispatch is in a newspaper but is not really news. It tells offbeat stories about curious people. It is a pleasant diversion about a small corner of the world that nobody in Kansas would likely visit. I believe that would be the whole point. There are many small things in life that lack formal importance, but as an antidote to the daily grind, are essential to living well. This idea is voiced with beautiful particularity in the third story by writer Roebuck Wright (played by Jeffrey Wright) when he is asked why he devotes so much space in his articles to the experience of dining. If you could have dinner with one person, living or dead, who would you choose? You could do much worse than a curated evening with Wes Anderson. (Actually you can choose this, but without the Wes, he curated a version of pullman dining on a British Train. https://www.belmond.com/trains/europe/uk/belmond-british-pullman/search-results. Tickets are around $600, give or take).

The danger of the Wes Anderson experience, as evident in his first fifteen years of making movies, is that his upper class tastes can come off as tone deaf or snooty. He has by and large avoided this pitfall in his last four great movies by focusing not on the rich people, but the servants, artisans, (dogs) that cater to them. It is a delicate balancing act to be sure. Since Wes Anderson is so very much rich himself (I highly suspect), to speak for the poor could easily come off as presumptuous and contrived. He avoids this by showing an unsurpassed appreciation for the artistry, whether it be a lobby boy attending to his duties in a hotel, a boy scout troupe leader searching for his charges, or a dog looking out for his master. Wes Anderson merely supposes, rightly I believe, that the people who curate his experiences care about their art in a manner that is separate and apart from the status of the ultimate consumer. Do such people like the celebrated police chef Nescaffier (played by Steve Park, yes that Steve Park from Coen Brothers’ movies like Fargo and A Serious Man), exist. They must. If they didn’t, how could there be so much beauty in the world?

To consider Wes Anderson’s movies chronologically, is to witness a writer-director become increasingly competent and confident in not only his distinct cinematic voice but the very tools of cinema. The French Dispatch is notable in its sheer amount of sets and cinematography techniques. To take one example, the first story, is a news article by J.K.L Berenson (played by Tilda Swinton) that turns into a lecture, which narrates a story of a psychotic inmate named Moses Rosenthaler (played by Benicio Del Toro) who might be a genius of modern art. The lecture is in color, but the story with Moses is in black and white, until of course, it isn’t. That is, Wes Anderson is not just using black and white because he wants to be artsy, he is doing it to make important scenes in the story “pop” with color. There are several of these moments in this movie whether it be a first glimpse of a fresco, the taste of a delicious apertif, or the blue eyes of Saorise Ronan, and the effect is undeniable. The realm of moviedom has not seen an artist with such innovative control of film, as a medium, since Oliver Stone was at the height of his creative powers in the early nineties (see JFK and Natural Born Killers). Add to this is Wes Anderson’s interesting use of foreign languages (In the second story, that concerns itself with insufferably woke university students, all the boys speak English, and the girls speak French with subtitles. To be clear, they are all speaking French, Wes is just being interesting) and his absolute refusal to shoot anything resembling a conventional action scene (a prison riot is shown in freeze frame, a car chase turns into a cartoon).

But more than anything, what is particularly impressive about The French Dispatch is the writing. The movie’s screenplay, which Wes Anderson wrote by himself, is based on four fictional articles by four fictional writers with four different styles. Each story, though all written by Wes, leaves a distinct impression of a unique artistic voice, each one a very good writer in their own regard. I ask you, could there possibly be a movie this year that is more “written” than the The French Dispatch. Have you ever seen a movie, more “literary”. Can we just give him his first Oscar ever for Best Original Screenplay right now?

If there is a criticism to be directed at this movie, it is that there is too much of it, at least in one sitting. I think this movie, or something like it, would make a very good TV show. That is, since each story could stand on its own, you could split the movie up into 30 minutes segments like say Documentary Now, thereby giving the audience a chance to catch its breath between stories. The French Dispatch is an appetizer and three entrees in a row. We need more time to comfortably digest. After all, I haven’t even mentioned Adrian Brody’s brilliant dissection of the economics of modern art, or Timothee Chalamet’s hair, or the fact that I got to see Lea Seydoux naked (worth the ticket price by itself).

Isle of Dogs (5/5 Stars)

 Crisis! Setting: The Japanese Archipelago, Megasaki Prefecture. An epidemic of snout fever is raging through the population of dogs with no signs of abatement. Mayor Kobayashi initiates a dramatic solution: Ban all dogs to the nearby trash island. Wholly Moses! Whatever happened to man’s best friend?

So begins in efficient precision the conceit of Writer/Director Wes Anderson and co.’s third masterpiece in a row (following Moonrise Kingdom and The Grand Budapest Hotel) the Isle of Dogs. I say Wes Anderson and co. because it so obvious from his last three movies that he has assembled an extraordinary crew of artists around him. These movies are quite frankly on another level. A few words of effusive praise can be spent on the look of the movie. It is rendered in spare crisp black and white tones, obviously heavily influenced, nay in direct homage, to the efficient elegance of the best of Japanese art. It is an animated movie, using the same stop-motion technology and style Anderson previously used in Fantastic Mr. Fox. As such, the entirety of each and every frame is designed. And what design! Pick a frame at random and you’ve got a painting.

After the dogs are unfairly marooned, a young boy named Atari pilots his way to the Isle of Dogs to find his beloved dog Spot. Atari his helped in his search by a group of dogs with names such as Chief, Rex, Boss, King, and Duke, voiced by such A-listers and Anderson regulars as Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Bob Balaban, and Jeff Goldblum respectively. Why do they help the child? Because they are dogs and dogs love children. Such cute logic is all over this movie. (For example, a not-so-subtle reason for the nefariousness of the Kobayashi clan is the fact that they are associated with cats. The ancient grudge between cats and dogs is continued). The plot is disarmingly simple and the sympathy it commands so persuasive (unless you’re are some kind of cat-lover/dog-hater) that I expect this movie will become the favorite movie of legions of children. For once, grateful parents will have at least one movie their kids are obsessed with that they would not mind watching a hundred times over.

Isle of Dogs is routinely funny in that wry and dry Wes Anderson way. His humor has gotten sharper over the years and his last three movies are a testament to that. There is a particularly good joke concerning a dog, called the Oracle, who the other dogs believe has special powers. Actually she has figured out how to watch T.V. and is letting everyone know what she is sees on the news.

The pathos works as well. One flashback scene shows the first meeting of Atari and Spots, his newly assigned guard-dog. Spot, as if a seasoned professional, describes at length his employment to Atari, the various functions he has and his and commitment to Atari’s well-being. “In other words,” Spots concludes, “I am your dog.” There is a simple profundity to that which just killed me.

I have left to discuss perhaps the more original and inventive detail of Isle of Dogs. The human characters are Japanese and speak Japanese, which the movie chooses to not provide subtitles for. The barks of the dogs, however, have been rendered into English. This provides for a unique experience in which half of the dialogue is not understandable, or is being translated by more-or-less reliable translators. There are enough visual cues so that an English only speaker can definitely understand what is going on, but the decision made by Anderson to not provide a translation of the Japanese is an interesting one. Like Lost in Translation, I expect part of the experience is not understanding the Japanese language. Or it could be that Anderson wanted to make it clear that the Japanese and the dogs indeed speak different languages and do not fully understand each other. In any case, it works.

I always pegged Wes Anderson as more of a “cat guy”. Obviously, I was wrong.  

Birdman (5/5 Stars)

Or: The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance

When Roger Ebert came upon a long shot in a movie he applied the Goodfellas standard to it. This standard referred to Martin Scorsese’s famous shot of Henry Hill taking out his girlfriend to the local nightclub. The shot starts with Hill handing his car keys to the valet and then taking his girl past the long line outside the club into a backdoor through the kitchen (he slips several guys $20 each) and into the main club area where the proprietor brings out a special table just for him and plants it in the front right next to the band. Hill sits down and his friends at the next table buy him a bottle of wine. The shot ends at 3 minutes 13 seconds. Subsequent filmmakers, inspired by Goodfellas, attempted such long shots of their own and Ebert was continually dismayed by what he saw. The copycats got the technicalities correct but missed the point. What made the long shot in Goodfellas great was not that it took a lot of skill and coordination to pull it off (it did), but that it was the correct way to tell the story. Scorsese was relating to the audience how Henry Hill’s position in the mafia opened doors to him that were closed to regular people. The best way to show that would be how quickly he could get a seat in a crowded at the Copacabana in real time. Add on that the song that played over the entire shot, The Crystal’s “Then He Kissed Me,” and the audience also gets a great idea of how his girlfriend felt about the whole thing, i.e. she was super impressed by it. The long shot in Goodfellas is not a showoffy ‘look what I can do with a camera’ conceit. It is the story. That is what makes a long shot great or not great. After all if just making the shooting process as hard as possible were what made it great, then Hitchcock’s “Rope” is the king of long shots (the entire 90 minute movie only has four takes). But it isn’t and you don't really need to see “Rope.” Hitchcock was just playing around with his camera to see if he could do it. There was no reason that movie needed to be told that way.

Which brings us to Director Alejandro Innaritu and Cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki’s “Birdman,” which is not unlike Rope. I mention the cinematographer because he happens to be the best in the business. He works with Terrance Malick (Tree of Life and To the Wonder) and Alfonso Cuaron (Children of Men and Gravity) and this is not the first time he has worked in incredibly long shots. In other movies though the long shots generally concerned action scenes. (The point of long shots in action scenes is to give a more realistic ‘you are there!’ momentum to what is happening on the screen. If you have ever seen ‘Children of Men’ and ‘Gravity’ you will know what I mean.) But ‘Birdman’ is not an action movie. It is a story about Riggan Thompson a washed up movie star who was last culturally relevant a quarter century ago when he played the very popular comic book character ‘Birdman.’ He enjoyed great success as ‘Birdman’ but soon became unable to do anything else. When he refused to do “Birdman 4,” his career went down the tubes. Now he is staging an adaptation of Raymond Carver’s short story, “What We Talk About When We Talk About Love,” on Broadway. He is desperately trying to become a serious artist again and is fighting against the widespread notion that he is a cartoon character and can’t be anything else.

Now why does this need to be shot in one continuous long shot (It is and it is very technically impressive but nevermind let’s apply the Goodfellas standard). Well, the surprise answer is something I have never seen a long shot in a movie ever accomplish. Surprisingly the way the long shots in this movie are used, they actually take the focus off of what the director is doing and allow the audience to focus much more on the actors. It is really kind of exhilarating. Wactching ‘Birdman,’ a movie about people putting on a play, actually feels like a play. It is even written like a play. By that I mean that characters provide through dialogue much more exposition than usual and at other times go into emotional monologues and speeches at length the way that is generally impossible in movie time. You may have noticed that a three hour play basically feels the same length as a two-hour movie. The whole ‘being there’ aspect of a play elongates the audience’s patience whereas movies generally need to move much faster. But here, because of the extraordinarily skilfull camera of Lubezki, the momentum of the long take gives the actors far more leeway for dramatic performances. And boy, do the cast in the movie rise to the occasion. There is some serious throw down acting in this movie and it occurs all the way through it.

Anchoring the movie as Riggan Thomas is none other than Michael Keaton who if you remember him at all you probably remember him as the Tim Burton era Batman. The role is so perfectly tailored to Keaton’s life (his career did have a downturn after he stopped being Batman) that it provokes the question of whether the movie was inspired by him. Probably not but he is the perfect casting decision on paper and it turns out as well in practice. It is a great performance and should be a cinch for an Oscar nomination. Certainly nobody this year has done “more” acting in a movie. Playing against him as his main antagonist (among many) is Edward Norton as one of those crazy method ‘actors’ that throw fits when they drink water instead of gin in a scene when they are supposed to be drinking f*cking gin. Then there is Zach Galifinakis as Riggan’s best friend, agent, and producer. Zach plays the sane one in this movie, a choice that reminded me of the casting of Jim Carrey in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. The movie is crazy, so why not cast a crazy comedian as the serious one. It works. I liked it. Rounding out the cast is Naomi Watts (a long time actress and newcomer to Broadway), Emma Stone (who has huge eyes), Andrea Riseborough, and Amy Ryan (divorcee of Riggan). All of them do good jobs even if they don’t get the really big moments like for instance running through Times Square in only underwear with a marching band in the distance. Someone does that, won’t tell you who.

‘Birdman’ is a seamless auditory and visual experience. There is an element of magic in the movie that is not fully explained but after awhile does not really need to be. It feels correct and is fairly understood as an extension of the scene’s emotional tone. There are plenty of details that lend to the overall otherworldliness of the movie. A couple of great ones cherry picked from the movie include the fog machines, the Christmas lights at the liquor store, a Japanese critic, and a certain quote from Shakespeare’s Macbeth at precisely the right time. Birdman is a must see movie. It is one of the best of the year and should at least net Lubezki’s 2^nd Oscar in as many years.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (5/5 Stars)

A love poem to Civilization

There is a moment in “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” that stands out to me. Our hero, M. Gustave (played by Ralph Fiennes) the concierge of the Grand Budapest Hotel has been unjustly imprisoned for the murder of his frequent hotel guest and late lover played by Tilda Swinton. His loyal lobby boy, Zero (introducing Tony Revolori) conspires to help him escape. He engages his fiancé/baker’s apprentice played by Saorise Ronan to hide metal tools in the pastries he regularly sends to his mentor. Unfortunately every gift from outside must pass the rigorous inspection of the prison, i.e. a big man with a big butcher’s knife who unceremoniously cuts up everything that comes his way. But behold when this big man with this big knife sees these pastries so elegantly crafted with grace and artistry his heart grows and melts. He cannot bear to destroy them and lets the pastries (and the escape tools) pass onto our hero. And if this one scene was all you saw you should know from experience by now that you are in a Wes Anderson movie.

‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ is another masterpiece. That makes two in a row for Wes Anderson who is absolutely flaming red hot right now. Arguably it is his best film. When I reviewed ‘Moonrise Kingdom’ I outlined Anderson’s improvements in his style over his first six movies. Namely that he had cast actors in sufficiently dramatic roles with enough stage presence to burst through his overly saturated and inevitably stifling style. Second that he had provided his film with an actual climax and not an existential sigh of an ending. Third: that he had switched from telling the stories of rich people with bullshit problems to poor people with actual problems. All of that is here in this story. We have Wes Anderson’s best villain to date, an evil Adrian Brody, intent on usurping justice, stealing his inheritance, and killing those who get in his way. He employs a hit man played by Willem Defoe. In addition almost everyone employs colorful language. This is a must in a Wes Anderson film. It shocks one out of the sublime contemplation of the art direction and refocuses attention on the characters. The climax of the story involves not only a sled race down a snowy mountain but also a shootout in the hotel. Also there is the aforementioned break out from the prison, which involves some ingenious sight gags. And the story is about the servants of a hotel, in particular a refugee lobby boy whose entire family was killed during World War I.

On On top of all of this Wes Anderson has added something extra special that has never before graced his movies. He has added reason and purpose to his overly stylized approach. In this movie it is called for from the story itself, not simply because this is a movie made by Wes Anderson. First, the story is told in several flashbacks. The movie starts off with a girl in present day reading a book by the statue of its author, a hero of the Eastern European Country she is resident. The movie moves into a flashback of the elderly author played by Tom Wilkinson who starts telling us the story of how he came upon the story as a young man. The movie flashbacks to Jude Law, the younger version of the author, who is staying at the now decript communist version of the hotel when he meets the now elderly lobby boy played by F. Murray Abraham. The two have a catered dinner in the ballroom of the hotel and F. Murray Abraham narrates his story. All throughout these several flashbacks the production design of the movie gets more and more fanciful till it becomes clear when we get to the lobby boy’s story that we are witnessing a visual game of telephone. The story is real but the telling of it has become overly stylized as it has been passed on from generation to generation. Obviously the invading force is made up of Nazis although they are not named so in the movie. And surely the Grand Budapest Hotel did not look so pink and red or so much like a minature model in real life. It’s costuming has been the work of several permutations of the same tale over the course of time.

Second and more importantly the movie has a philosophy on why such costuming is important even noble. The little niceties of civilized life, the grandeur of the lobby, the manners and rituals of a many course meal, the way the hotel staff righteously guards the privacy of their guests, all are contrasted with the barbaric cruelties presented in this time period of epic slaughter. At a particularly dark time in the story, the tale is interrupted by the serving of a dessert and a special desert wine. And it is a relief. The comforting ritual is an escape from the random slaughter of the outside world. Somewhere someone cares about your experience. That is what the ‘Grand Budapest Hotel’ means. It is a precious love poem to civilization. It is the prison guard that can’t bring himself to destroy something so beautiful.

We live in a world that so often takes the most cynical route possible because it is the easiest and perhaps the most truthful. But Wes Anderson cares about your movie going experience. He has made this extra special gem just for you as a brief escape from all the nihilistic meanness out there. This movie has love poured into every detail of the story and production.

What enormous amount of respect Wes Anderson commands in the Hollywood community now! Just take a look at this cast most of which are in very bit parts. Jason Schwartzman, Owen Wilson, Ed Norton, Bill Murray, Bob Balaban, Adrien Brody, Tilda Swinton, Mathieu Amalric, Harvey Keitel, Willem Defoe, Jeff Goldblum, Lea Seydoux, Tom Wilkinson, F. Murray Abraham, Jude Law, Ralph Fiennes, Saorise Ronan, and introducing Tony Revolori. Apparently most of them just wanted to hang out on the set because the atmosphere excited them. I’ve heard that Wes Anderson employs a friend chef of his who cooks a great meal for dinner for everybody in the production every night of shooting. If tickets were sold to these dinners they would be priceless.

One more thing: Tom Wilkinson’s character speaks about writing not as a solo art but as the result of merely being open to the ideas and stories of those around you. Well, Wes Anderson may deflect admiration all he wants but one thing is for certain. He can be credited with recruiting an incredible team around him. The production design of this movie was led by Adam Stockhausen (also worked on Moonrise Kingdom). The art direction was led by Stephan O. Gessler, Gerald Sullivan, and Steve Summersgill. The set decoration was led by Anna Pinnock. The costumes were made by Milena Canonero. If they aren’t remembered come Oscar time next year, it isn’t my bad taste; everybody else are uncivilized barbarians. 

Moonrise Kingdom (5/5 Stars)

“Let’s make an inventory”

Says Sam Schukusky to Suzy Bishop, once the two twelve year olds have successfully run away from their respective adults (parents for Suzy, a junior khaki troop for Sam) to elope on the New England island of Penzance. And make an inventory they do. Suzy is carrying her brother’s record player with extra batteries, her favorite LP, her pet kitten, several of her favorite science fiction books, her lucky left-handed scissors, and her much-loved set of binoculars. She carefully explains why each item is important. And if you haven’t guessed already, this scene is taking place in a movie written/directed by Wes Anderson, because, really, who else would have characters take the time to do an inventory of the things they are carrying. I mean, if it isn’t a war movie and the characters aren’t talking strategy and weapons, an inventory is almost unheard of in movies. This is just one particular touch, along with absurdly detailed set designs and costumes, obsessively neat and tidy dialogue, and super-controlled camera shots, that scream out that you are in that most distinctive of styles, Wes Anderson cinema. No other movie looks or works quite the way his do.

Now this does not automatically mean that his movies are good, in fact it has been a decade since he made a movie that needed seeing. The distinctive style that makes his films stand out also tend to undermine the story and move it toward the unfortunate territory of boredom. But, I’ve always felt there was a great movie just waiting to be made by the guy, and I’m glad to say he has finally made it. “Moonrise Kingdom,” is one of the best movies of the year. It succeeds in all the places his earlier movies have failed without sacrificing any of the trademark idiosyncrasies that make Anderson films such unique experiences. 

First the two kids are genuinely likable and may have some actual problems. I would like to emphasize the word “actual” here because so many of Anderson’s characters don’t have actual problems. They are generally well-to-do good-looking people afflicted with a type of depressing boredom or something. Like for instance, the three brothers in “the Darjeeling Limited” had unexplained father "issues" so they went on a long train ride in India to bond. Being able to afford to go on a long train ride in India to bond with family isn’t exactly evidence of a real world problem. I would guess that’s why so many of these characters tend to suffer quietly in whispers. They seem to be some acknowledgement that it is kind of pathetic to be unhappy while blessed by their relative circumstances. Anyway, this isn’t something to worry about in this story. Sam Shukusky is an orphan recently dumped by his latest foster parents and Suzy Bishop is emotionally disturbed. Or at least she has good reason to think she might be. She found a pamphlet entitled, “Coping with the Very Troubled Child,” on the top of her refrigerator, which is admittedly a kind of a freaky thing to find in your house. Neither have any friends, but they do like each other, and their love story is sweet and touching.

It takes a certain kind of skill to act effectively in a Wes Anderson movie. There is always a temptation to softly speak in long pauses. Take for instance Gwyneth Paltrow’s character in “The Royal Tenenbaums.” This however is a boring mistake. Instead the exact opposite needs to be done. An actor needs to fit in as many yells as possible within the tight framework of stilted dialogue. This is essentially the only way to break through the gorgeous/suffocating style to achieve some sort of catharsis and why an action blockbuster star like Bruce Willis, playing the island police officer, is a much better casting choice than a mellow guy like Owen Wilson. Otherwise an actor needs the jujitsu comedy skills of a guy like Bill Murray, also present playing Suzy's father, who has the unique ability to take the style and subtly play it against itself by under-under-playing his performance, see the scene with the axe and the little kids. We’ve got some passionate speakers here. Edward Norton, Jason Schwartzman and Harvey Keitel, as scoutmasters, put in a ridiculous degree of professionalism in directing boy scouts. Frances McDormand doesn’t yell but carries around a bullhorn and uses it whenever she speaks. 

It's all done very well. Someone here between Murray, Willis, Norton, and Schwartzman deserves an Oscar Nomination for Best Supporting Actor but I can’t really decide who deserves it more than the others. A safe choice is Bruce Willis, who in his very long career has amazingly never received any real recognition for anything. Given his perfect performances in great movies such as “Die Hard,” “Pulp Fiction,” “The Sixth Sense,” and "Sin City" he is a bit overdue. For all his machoness, he has done some of his best work with children, and there is a scene here with the orphan Sam after he has been caught, separated from his love, and notified that his foster parents do not want him back that contains every correct thing you can say said in all the correct ways in such a situation.

Lastly, Wes Anderson has finally figured out how to end his movies on a high note. This movie has an exciting third act with an honest to god action sequence that doesn’t have some winking existential sigh of a conclusion. (Contrast this with “The Life Aquatic,” and his weird decision not to blow up the tiger shark with dynamite as planned.) In other words, the movie like so many other Wes Anderson previous efforts doesn’t run out of steam before the end. This is probably his crowning achievement and what makes this movie his best movie yet. (I will forever love “Rushmore” more yes, but that is strictly for personal not critical reasons, like say, the main character’s name being Max)

When you have a style that is especially distinctive (like say Altman or Kubrick) it is especially hard to judge your movie because they are so unlike anything else. So it would not come as a surprise to me if “Moonrise Kingdom” was completely ignored come Oscar time. It shouldn’t be though. Among the more obvious things it should be acknowledged for are the original score by Alexandre Desplat (you may remember him from “The Tree of Life”), and the art direction by Gerald Sullivan. The not so obvious things would be a nomination for best director for Wes Anderson and best original screenplay for Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola. And why not, nods for cinematography, editing, and Bruce Willis. It should go without saying that a Best Picture nod is called for as this is one of the best movies of the year.

The Incredible Hulk 06/22/08

It seems to me that the greatest boon we have received from computer generated effects is that it has enabled the regular average joe to become an action star. In the early days of blockbuster, the action flick was populated by Schwarzeneggers, Seagels, and Stallones. Great burly men with more muscle than humanity. Now with the advent of this new technology the likes of Tobey Maguire and Robert Downey Jr. have replaced your average steroid toking action star. Nowhere is this more evident than in 'The Incredible Hulk' a story that by necessity always required a strong man. In fact, the first actor to portray the character, Lou Ferrigno, was noticeably more hulk than brilliant scientist. Now we have the fine actor, Edward Norton, filling the role. This is simply one of those movies that couldn't have been made right twenty years ago. 
It may not have been made right today either for that matter, even though it is still worth the watch. Controversy surrounds this movie as the star Ed Norton is currently in a bit of a tiff with Marvel and refused to do publicity. Apparently there is a fifteen minute longer version of the film that he supported but was shelved because the studio felt it would detract from ticket sales. I have only seen the shorter version but have an inkling that Norton has a right to be angry. There are a couple characters in the beginning that are introduced but have absolutely no development. For instance, the girl in the factory, but especially the psychiatrist boyfriend of Bruce Banner's ex girlfriend played by Liv Tyler. This psychiatrist is basically in two scenes where he does absolutely nothing and then gets dumped so fast (with almost no explanation) by Tyler that I was left wondering why he was in the story at all. I'd be very curious to see those missing fifteen minutes. They probably explain why the first half of this movie was sort of arbitrary and confusing.
The second half of this movie is first rate thankfully and a lot of that has to do with the bad guy, Tim Roth, and the late appearance of a fellow scientist, Mr. Blue. This movie does not make the same mistakes that 'Iron Man' did. It is completely clear why the evil dude is evil and why he wants to do evil things. There is no 'talking villain' syndrome where he has to explain his actions. We get it from the beginning. When he turns into a Hulk copy called 'The Abomination' and starts terrorizing downtown Manhattan, we get our money's worth. The climax of this movie is truly climatic. The final fight scene is superb. 
What's even more important is that the movie left me with a desire to see the next 'Hulk' movie, even though I had no knowledge of the comic or the character before I walked into the theater. With the success of 'Iron Man' and now 'The Incredible Hulk' I believe Marvel has taken two huge steps in the right direction in successfully bringing their entire catalog to the screen. (Thor and Captain America are in the works, as are another Spiderman and Iron Man plus two more X-men movies) Based on these two movies there is much too look forward too.

The Painted Veil 04/16/07

Here's a genre that's perhaps the hardest to sustain a semblance of originality. It's the serious romance. There isn't much variability in the story. Boy meets girl. They don't like each other. Over time they fall in love. Then one of them dies. Maybe both of them. Either way since there are no laughs its hard to end one of these on an upbeat. Its quite necessary for someone to die. 
It goes without saying that its hard for these movies to be instant classics. But here we have one that is somewhat complete. There's an exotic location, good performances by Naomi Watts and Edward Norton, both of which are convincingly British. There is a exquisite sleepy score that winds itself in and out of the movie to good effect.
There just isn't any real conflict in this movie. It would be fine to fall asleep too. One sort of waits for these two people to fall in love. Most of the movie is spent in gloomy discomfiture. The charachters have no joy. Then there is that one scene. And then the man dies a noble death and she's there nursing him. How sweet. But I would have liked a love story that had moments other than hardship and scorn in it. Maybe I'm asking too much of the characters. The man is proud and stiff and completely wrapped up in his work. The woman is always bored out of her mind. Neither are very appealing. It's just so evident why they felt disinclined to like each other for so long. But to the actors credit, they have imbued in their characters good hearts and souls and I learned to like them besides they're obvious faults. Because of that the movie was watchable.