When
it finally came out, The Life Aquatic was one of the biggest disappointments of
the year for me. It was undeniably a Wes Anderson film – it was a masterpiece
of production design, contained some eye popping stop motion animation work by
Henry Selick (Tim Burton’s Nightmare Before Christmas), contained another fine
sad eyed, yet funny performance, by Bill Murray – and other strong performances
as well – most notably by Willem Dafoe as Zissou’s right hand man Klaus, , and
had some interesting music – including a host of David Bowie covers sung in
Portuguese. And yet I felt The Life Aquatic was ultimately a rather empty film
– one that looked great, but didn’t connect in anyway emotionally. This was the
common complaint (and remains the most prevalent one) about Anderson’s work –
but it’s one I never agreed with before. However much style there is in
Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, I still connected with the characters and
their pain – The Royal Tenenbaums even had me crying in my most recent
re-watching of the film.
I
watched The Life Aquatic in 2005 on DVD to see if perhaps it was simply a case
of my expectations being too high – or if perhaps it was a film that rewarded
audiences with multiple viewings – Anderson’s films always benefit from seeing
them more than once, because he packs so much into them. But I was left with
the same feeling. I didn’t watch the film again until last week – once again
hoping that this time I would connect with it. Sadly, I still didn’t.
The
film is still brilliant to look at – there is so much detail to Zissou’s ship,
the Bellefonte that I could probably watch it again and again and still not capture
all the visual details. Yet, the film still feels emotionally distant to me. Nowhere
is this more apparent than in the scene where Owen Wilson’s Ned dies in a
helicopter crash. Visually, the scene is striking – with Steve and Ned floating
in the water after the crash, the camera bobbing in the water that is gradually
revealed to be turning red – bloody water even splashes the camera lens at one
point. But the whole scene seems to have staged only for the visual impact of
it all – not the emotional one. As with the rest of the movie, I never felt any
real connection between Steve and his (potential) long lost son played by
Wilson. Part of it, I think, is because of Wilson’s silly, exaggerated Kentucky
accent (Wilson, from Texas himself, has never gone so over the top with his
Southern accent before). Part of it is that I cannot help but think that no
matter how good Murray is in certain scenes of the film, that he was still
wrong for the role of Steve Zissou – who is a character not that different than
Gene Hackman’s Royal Tenenbaum. Hackman –rightly – went boldly comedic and
emotional with his performance. Murray does more of his understated, sad eyed
routine – which works for him in every other Wes Anderson movie, but doesn’t
here. Steve Zissou is the engine that drives the plot, and Murray is always
better playing a little more passive – reacting to the things around him he
cannot control, rather than setting in motion the action himself.
There
are other things that could be the reason the film doesn’t work as well as it
should. Perhaps we always under estimated Wilson’s contributions as a
screenwriter with Anderson – this was the first film that Wilson did not
co-write with Anderson – that honor going to Noah Baumbach this time around.
Given Wilson’s (now public) struggle with depression, it’s not wholly
inconceivable that he contributed to the sense of melancholy that was present
in Anderson’s first three films – and handled better. Perhaps Baumbach simply
let Anderson indulge in all of his own idiosyncratic obsessions, and didn’t
push Anderson to ground them in believably emotional terrain. That’s all
speculation of course – perhaps it’s something altogether different – but given
that I think the film is a step back for Anderson, and it’s the first one
without Wilson as a co-writer, it makes sense.
Or
maybe it’s just that while in his mid-30s, Anderson never really connected with
Zissou as a character. This is a character who is worried about failure –
someone with a long career behind him, who worries that he will never be good
again, and worries about his legacy and the roads not taken in his own life. Whatever
the reason, no matter how much I admire parts of The Life Aquatic – and there
are brilliant moments sprinkled throughout the film – I think my initial feelings
on the film are still correct – it’s a disappointment from Anderson, and his
weakest overall film to date.
It’s
been a year since their father died – and Francis (Owen Wilson), Peter (Adrien
Brody) and Jack (Jason Schwartzman) haven’t seen each other in that time. They
are reuniting however for a train trip across India. Everything has been
meticulously planned by Francis – who has an assistant on another part of the
train, who helpfully provides them with laminated itineraries every morning.
Francis was in a motorcycle accident, that may not have been so accidental, and
his head is bandaged up. Peter’s wife is pregnant – 6 weeks away from giving
birth – which makes him nervous, because he assumed that they were going to get
divorced. Jack has just broken up with his girlfriend (seen in the brilliant
short, Hotel Chevalier aka The Darjeeling Limited part 1, which is 13 minutes
of Anderson’s best filmmaking) but obsesses over her still. Unbeknownst to
Peter and Jack, at the end of their journey, the trio of brothers will meet
their mother (Anjelica Huston), who has become a nun, and who they haven’t seen
in a long time (she didn’t even show up for their father’s funeral).
For
the first little bit of The Darjeeling Limited, the film seems like it’s going
to be little more than a relaxed comedy about these three brothers who both
love and hate each other, travelling through a culture they do not understand.
There are worse things a movie can be – especially when, like the boat in The
Life Aquatic, the train in this movie is an art director’s wet dream – and
Anderson uses the colorful Indian backdrop in a unique, non-traditional way.
The
movie is better than that I think – and becomes so in three sequences – most
notably when the trio of brothers attempts to save another trio of brothers –
much younger, when they fall into the river – two of them succeeding, and one
failing. Yet the sequence, which brings life and death into the movie, deepens
everything else in the film – and sets up the other two great sequences – a
flashback to their father’s funeral, and their eventual meeting with their
mother. The ending of The Darjeeling Limited is more than a little heavy handed
– as the brother literally leave their father’s baggage behind them as they
move off into an uncertain future.
I
had only seen The Darjeeling Limited once before last week – back when it was
in theaters in 2007. I remember liking it then, but also shrugging it off. I
pretty much feel the same way about it now, having seen it a second time. It’s
a very good film – a little looser than most of Anderson’s work, not quite as
controlled. Like most of Anderson’s films, it provides an ending that offers
hope for its characters, but doesn’t neatly tie their problems in a bow –
they’ll move on, but to what, I’m not sure. The performances by Wilson, Brody
and Schwartzman are great – and they get some good support from everyone –
especially Huston, and in a wordless performance, Bill Murray, representing the
father they are leaving behind. Yet I still cannot help but view the film as
Anderson treading water – figuring out where to go next. Again, since that’s
where his characters are, it works for the movie, but also makes it somewhat
lesser of a film that his best work.
The
final part goes tomorrow – looking at two more of Anderson’s best film.
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