Sunday 17 June 2012

Moonrise Kingdom

The films of Wes Anderson exist in their own little world, and what a strange little world it is. As shown in his “Rushmore" and “The Royal Tenenbaums," it is an eccentric, colourful world populated with flawed individuals who wander about in unfashionable clothing and whose every reaction is almost a non-reaction. It is soundtracked by laid-back folk tracks and British rock tunes. It is dryly comical, not that its glum-faced populace notices too much. Ever the auteur, Anderson lets us view this world from a meticulously chosen vantage point from which the composition of everything in sight appears strangely symmetrical, which gives it an aesthetic that is amusingly, boldly artificial.

Colour-coded and filmed with a controlled energy, it is a world that is practically animated, though Anderson has only attempted one animated film in his 16-year career: 2009’s “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” which showed that Anderson’s unchanging visual sensibilities are a natural match with stop-motion animation. But I think I prefer it when this world is presented in the live-action format; a real-life setting with characters made of flesh and blood serves only to enhance its curiously kooky qualities. I don’t think I’d turn down a trip to this weird little world, although I wouldn’t want to stay for too long - I’m not certain I’d want its unique idiosyncrasies to rub off on me too much.


“Moonrise Kingdom,” Anderson’s latest, takes place in this world, and arguably displays its quirky characteristics to a larger degree than Anderson’s previous works: all of the clichés so commonly associated with his style are flaunted in full force here, and charmingly so. It sees Anderson revisiting adolescence, a topic he last explored with habitual hilarity in his second full-length feature, “Rushmore.” It’s also quite possibly his most charming and accessible film thus far, though not his best: I, and I believe few will object to this, would gladly hand that award to “The Royal Tenenbaums.” Still, “Moonrise Kingdom” is a wonderful, whimsical creation.

“Moonrise Kingdom" is set on an island just off the coast of New England and a few miles away from reality. This island is not a particularly large one, but it’s big enough for someone to hide in for a day or two and go unnoticed. It is the year 1965, though really it could be any year. Twelve-year-old orphan and unpopular boyscout Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman) flees the island’s Camp Ivanhoe in search of adventure, freedom and love. Joining this capricious little rogue is another twelve-year-old, the bookish and watchful Suzy Bishop (Kara Hayward), who runs away from home. Suzy is living in a lighthouse on the island for summer with her three younger brothers and her dysfunctional parents, attorneys Walter (Bill Murray, in his sixth collaboration with Anderson) and Laura (Frances McDormand, “Fargo”), who see their daughter as a “troubled child.” Perhaps they are right: she reminded me of a young Margot Tenenbaum, which I’m not so sure is a good thing.


In typical Andersonian style, young Sam and Suzy act not like innocent youngsters but like fully grown adults - they’re like the bleachy-eyed alien children from “Village of the Damned.” Sam smokes a corncob pipe. Suzy wears blue eye shadow. They’re already in love, having fallen for each other while penpalling, which they have done very regularly since their first meeting a full year ago: Suzy was performing in a church play and Sam snuck off backstage, where he became entranced by her. The production was of Benjamin Britten’s “Noye’s Fludde,” which contained superb on-stage flood effects. Perceptive viewers will recall that Bob Balaban's delightful on-screen narration mentioned in the opening moments that a storm will strike the island in three days - the storm of maturity?

A local search party is launched to find Sam and Suzy, led by Scoutmaster Ward (Edward Norton, “The Incredible Hulk”) and Police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis, “Red”). The boyscouts join in too, though they treat the operation like a manhunt, arming themselves with axes and bows and arrows, and see Sam as a fugitive. The two runaways, meanwhile, set up camp atop a cliff, and later inside a secluded cove, which they name Moonrise Kingdom. Sam is burdened with all the camping duties, wielding ropes and survival gear, which he uses with much skill. Suzy, meanwhile, has brought with her a collection of sci-fi books, a portable record player (with extra batteries), her pet kitten and, of course, her trusty binoculars.


Sam and Suzy share a riveting romance - this, in spite of the fact that they are yet to enter their teenage years. They share sweet moments: Suzy teaches Sam to dance to Françoise Hardy in the Moonrise Kingdom cove; Sam listens intently as Suzy reads him her books; they kiss, and Sam questions her about French kissing. “The tongues touch each other,” explains Suzy. And they French kiss. Gilman and Hayward are talented young actors, appealing and magnetic both when together and when separated, though mostly they are together. Sam and Suzy act as the heart of “Moonrise Kingdom,” and a big heart the film has.

Along with our young hero and heroine, the adult stars of “Moonrise Kingdom” fully indulge in the deadpan technique that has become an integral staple of Anderson’s projects. Norton and Willis, both newbies to Anderson’s world, make for an excellent team-up as an inexperienced but dedicated scoutmaster and a lonely, melancholy cop, respectively. Murray, who has appeared in each Anderson film since “Rushmore,” projects sadness and gains sympathy, his character, along with the brilliant McDormand, stuck in a dead-end marriage that no longer brings him happiness, or perhaps it never did. Tilda Swinton (“We Need to Talk About Kevin") takes a terrific turn as a professionally concerned social services officer known only as Social Services, who unites the older and younger generations through their hatred of her - they believe she will inflict electric shock therapy upon young Sam, and no one wants that to happen.


Each frame of “Moonrise Kingdom" is gorgeously composed and each movement of the camera is skillfully co-ordinated. I’d call the visuals “quirky,” but I don’t think that would do them justice: the look of “Moonrise Kingdom” is a thing of startling, irresistible beauty, capable of wowing and tickling, sometimes achieving both at the same time. Consider, for example, a moment which sees Sam and Suzy stepping aside to talk over their upcoming elopement. Their brief, heart-to-heart conversation is probably important and dramatic, yet we do not hear a single word, for not only is it muted, but our attention is focused entirely on the young trampolinist skillfully demonstrating his athletic abilities on the right hand side of the frame. Few directors would get away with or even attempt such a thing, but Wes Anderson does both, and we adore him for it.

By now you probably know if you love or loathe Anderson’s style. I count myself in the former category, but I know many who would count themselves in the latter. If you’re on my side (not that we’re picking sides here), you should find “Moonrise Kingdom” an utter joy. If not, I believe its winning humour, wry imagination and subtle poignancy may very well win you over, though I can’t be certain: people can be very stubborn. “Moonrise Kingdom” is a film about young love, and reader, its magical charm and enchanting little oddities made me fall head over heels in love with it, and made me feel oh so young.

9/10

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