- It’s Anderson’s first real attempt at a diorama (NYC apartment here) and then we’d have a boat (life aquatic), train (Darjeeling), hotel (grand budapest). It’s a dazzling exploration and launch for his creative brilliance regarding mise-en-scene and décor
- NYT review calls it “unbearably show-offy”—sign me up
- A dysfunctional family opus and ensemble work
- Formally rigorous with the story construction (to match the rigor of the set design and mise-en-scene work)- we have book presentation of the film, prologue, gorgeous use of “Hey Jude” and Alec Baldwin’s sublime voice-over
- Highlights galore and start from the very beginning with the intro of the characters montage, facing camera getting ready
- Like the Schwartzman character in Rushmore these children are artists- and Margo even writes plays like Schwartzman’s Max Fisher character
- Books (both real and fake) abundant in the intellectual world of the characters and apartment—a common insert edit from Anderson is a cutaway to the book the person published, etc
- Absolutely no stone unturned in this mise-en-scene—not as bright or flashy as Grand Budapest but just as detailed and rich
- When Hackman is in the doctor’s office there are three file cabinet drawers that are different colors and it’s perfectly in synch with the rest of the film- this is a 15 second scene at the longest- so just for the hell of it Anderson details everything. This makes for richly rewarding rewatches
- The Nico “These Days” slow-mo of Paltrow getting off the bus with the reverse to Luke Wilson in close-up is a work of art- a transcendent scene— the only one that rivals it for the film’s best is the Elliott Smith montage editing of Luke Wilson’s suicide attempt. A staggeringly beautiful scene
- Symmetry in every frame- he’s showing you great blocking here and human faces and bodies for framing like Bergman would do
- Love the comic tapestries in Eli’s (owen Wilson) apartment
- He’s using the entire frame- there’s always a film going on in the foreground and a film going on in the background
- Like silent cinema we have his loudly stylized chapter breaks
- Too many critics get hung up on the twee and cuteness of the red jump suits and Dalmatian mice
- Lots of wallpaper art options here to choose from (another highlight is the two-character close up of Stiller and Wilson lying down at the end in the backyard)
- The deadpan style is, now, 3 films in, becoming trademark. Wes has fashioned a unique cinematic work like Lynch, Tarantino, Malick, Scorsese, Bresson, Tarkovsky—easily parodied and identified.
- It’s too rich for most viewers honestly- taken for granted
- I think it hits as harshly, on a narrative/content level of many films it’s not given credit for. We have an exaggerated world and exaggerated characters but when Stiller tells Hackman “I’ve had a rough year, Dad” I found it to be quite devastating. The plight and struggles of this family are real in their film and the move towards togetherness and bond, a surefire theme in Anderson’s work, is real
- The epilogue funder- Van Morrison and slow-motion like his previous two films- very well done
- A Masterpiece
“Well, everyone knows Custer died at Little Bighorn. What this book presupposes is… maybe he didn’t.” – Eli Cash. This movie has a ton of great lines. The writing is fantastic.
@Dru — haha well put- “I’m not talking about dance lessons. I’m talking about putting a brick through the other guy’s windshield. I’m talking about taking it out and chopping it up.”
I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to watch a Wes Anderson film but I finally did and was quite impressed. Visually it was a real treat, over whelming but in a good way; I plan on doing an immediate rewatch. The use of color, symmetry, attention to detail packed into each frame was staggering.
– The bus scene set where Margo (Paltrow) walks in slow motion to Nico’s “These Days” toward
the Luke Wilson character was a real standout
– Got a laugh on Ben Stiller and his sons all wearing the same red Adidas track suits
– Using “Hey Jude” to open the film was absolutely brilliant (one of my favorite Beatles songs)
– As for the narrative I really enjoy use types of family sagas, some similarities to The
Magnificent Ambersens
@James Trapp– alright! Good for you. You’re right about the bus scene with Nico’s “These Days”- what’s next on the Wes Anderson study for you?
@Drake – planning on Grand Budapest Hotel, depending on how that one goes I may just start from the beginning for a full watch through once I finish up my De Sica watch through
@Drake – Just watched Grand Budapest last night. Visually spectacular, even more extreme with colors and symmetry than Royal Tenenbaums.
BTW I went to post on the Wes Anderson page but there seems to be issues with the page just to let you know.
@James Trapp— Excellent! Happy you caught up with Grand Budapest James. And thank you- Graham and Malith have been helping me find the broken pages. There seem to be many that need to be manually refreshed- happened when I made some backend changes to the blog. My apologies for the frustration and occasional hiccup on the site. If you find another one I’d appreciate you letting me know in the comments section
Ok, so in light of the release of the French Dispatch, I gave another long awaited watch to the Royal Tenenbaums, yet another wonderful creation by Wes Anderson, about a profoundly dissatisfied and vaguely prick-ish Gene Hackman suffering a midlife crisis. He correctly points to his strained relationship with his enstranged, profoundly dissatisfied family as the source of his ennui, and makes an effort to reconnect. “I’m sorry for your loss. Your mother was a terribly attractive woman,” is essentially his way of offering support to his grandchildren for the loss of their mother. So no, not the best guy. He and his wife, Anjelica Huston (obviously), manage to engage their three children in such a way that they harness their gifts and evolve into child prodigies. Those oh so successful prodigies go on to become deeply unhappy adults. Genius and yet unloved children, who at some point through it all, lost it.
The story is served in a highly Wes Anderson-esque manner, rich with his deadpan sense of humour and filled with brilliant one-liners, like that effort for consolation, one (hush, hush, spoilers) suicide note written after the attempted suicide and “How long have you been a smoker?”
“22 years”
“Well, I think you should quit”
The jokes per minute ratio is quite possibly higher here than in most of his films, but you could argue that all or none of Wes’ lines are humourous, depending on how you look at the scale of things. The colour palette is truly excellent and it almost seems to strive for a romanticisation of a tidy Scandinavian kind of hipster aesthetic, which definitely left its mark on pop culture; baby pinks and baby blues, an ambundance of gorgeously well-balanced and good looking mustard yellows, classic oranges, valley greens, a few reds, indigos and royal blues here and there, to shake things up. Beautiful pastel shades that greatly benefit from Wes’ eye for mise en scene. Perfect symmetry, as was to be expected, though he is a little looser with the 90 degree angles, when compared to the Grand Budapest. All his favourite techniques are here, from whip pans to tracking shots. However, Wes does indulge (as he would do in the French Dispatch) in the use of a greater variety of tricks, going for slow motion in the justifiably famous Gwyneth Paltrow bus sequence, shakey camera in the chase sequence towards the end and a rarely seen jump-cut montage for the devastating suicide attempt. The preference for stop motion photography to capture the flow of the blood somehow enhances the scene’s impact. Needless to say, the score is brilliant and filled with all the necessary 60’s jams; the opening sequence, where we are introduced to the characters and their story (a narrative vehicle which Wes would come to employ regularly, if not in all of his later works) with Hey Jude playing in the background is almost enough for the film to gain Must See status.
As far as structure is concerned, the film is divided into chapters, because of course it is, and not only is each presented in the form of a book page, but they are all of nearly equal runtime. But Wes does not neglect to use his characters’ little quirks, habbits and whims as connective tissue throughout the film. The dalmatian mice, the ‘gypsy cab’ and all the spaceship motifs on wallpapers and curtains, as well as being essential for the film to acquire texture and accomplish a more attuned, funny and sensitive tone (this is after all the point where Wes goes a bit more Truffaut instead of Godard), elevate the Royal Tenenbaums to undoubted formal brilliance.
Gene Hackman, in the role of a crabby but charming old gentleman, is strangely lovable. The humour that is interweaved in his performance definitely helps, but Hackman’s delivery is ridiculously on point, his comedic timing is pitch perfect and his aptitude for conveying his character’s inner strife, vague nostalgia and melancholy is nothing short of impressive. It would be so easy for Mr. Tenenbaum to come across as rather horrible, awfully one-note or as something of a whimsical caricature. All of those scenarios are avoided thanks to Hackman’s charm, naturalness and openness. Gwyneth Paltrow is excellent here in a cultural landmark of a role. She adjusts to Wes’ deadpan brand of humour effortlessly, totally owns that fur and cigarettes look and manages to communicate with nothing but her eyes such devastation, hopelessness and despair, that Margot Tnenebaum becomes a fully fleshed character right before us, a person we get to understand and see through. Shakespeare in Love, huh? Where is her recognition for this?
By all means a Wes Anderson picture, the Royal Tenenbaums deals with serious themes of family and depression, through the portraits of three overly sophisticated children and their parents, with unmistakably flavourful humour, lightness of touch and wonderful sensitivity, and leaves one feeling hopeful, heartwarmed and a little more sensitive themselves. By all accounts, I agree with the rating – a masterpiece. Needless to say that I love all your points over here and particularly how you juxtapose your view of the film and its merits to how it was perceived by critics at the time of its release. You make some excellent remarks here!
@Georg- A fabulous addition to the page- Thanks again Georg. Well put with “this is after all the point where Wes goes a bit more Truffaut instead of Godard”
Drake have you caught The French Dispatch yet?
@Harry – I have. I was lucky enough to see it in theater. I really need a chance to see it again and takes some notes before putting a page together for it. But I thought it was excellent. You? Have you had a chance to see it yet?
Yup saw it in theatres yesterday and I agree it was excellent. I was actually thinking that the first 40 minutes (Owen Wilson + Benecio Del Toro section) might be Wes Anderson at the height of his powers. Overall I think it ends up my third favourite of his behind Tenenbaums and Budapest Hotel.
I watched a couple of Jacques Tati films earlier this year and I couldn’t help noting his influence on The French Dispatch. I can’t say with complete certainty that this impact isn’t felt in other Anderson films without watching them again, but the use of architecture to frame visual gags felt very specific to Tati, especially when we sit back in a wide and watch a character ascend the steps of a multi-storey building, catching glimpses of them through windows – that’s straight out of Mon Oncle.
Overall I was really impressed with it. For now I would also probably put it after Grand Budapest Hotel and Royal Tenenbaums, and tentatively place it roughly on par with Moonrise Kingdom, which puts it in the masterpiece range – the first one I’ve given out for the decade so far. It’s very formally intriguing and complex in its use of colour so I definitely want to check it out again before committing to that though.