2008. Exhausted, after preparing for next day’s higher-secondary finals, I grabbed the remote and aimlessly shuffled through every channel. Finally, I stayed at CINEMAX. It had this scene going on: A dinner table; three guys sitting around planning to rob a store and one of them, a blonde guy, gets frustrated with his partners who fool around with the gang’s only revolver. The blondie, outraged, tries to get the gun back and yells, “I can’t focus unless the gun is on the table”. The scene was hilarious and I was totally glued to the screen till the credit-roll. I watched throughout the end for two reasons: one, I thoroughly enjoyed this quirky buddy-road movie; two, I only got to know the movie’s title at the end.
The movie was Bottle Rocket, directed by Wes Anderson. Since then I’ve become some sort of a Wes Anderson fan-boy; recommending Rushmore to everyone in high-school, shunning the Academy for ignoring Fantastic Mr. Fox; speaking highly of the underrated gem, The Darjeeling Limited.
I’ve always considered Anderson as one of those rare filmmakers of today, who has his own voice and will remain immortal for his quirky, and often style heavy, comedies. You can easily identify Anderson’s craft because of his art like filmmaking; he delicately brushes his strokes to yield visuals that are tangible yet surreal. So, like an obedient fan-boy, I was tracking his latest film Moonrise Kingdom since its inception.
Moonrise Kingdom caters an absurd love story of two runaways – Sam and Suzy. What’s so absurd about a love story of two runaways? Hasn’t this formula been tested, exploited and abused so many times? But wait, here’s the catch. Sam and Suzy are just twelve-year-olds.
I see some raised eyebrows.
The year is 1965 and the place is the island of New Penzance. Sam (Jared Gilman), a khaki scout in Scout Master Ward’s (Edward Norton) scout camp, escapes by cutting a hole in his tent (which is an apparent parody of Andy Dufresne’s escape in Shawshank Redemption). All packed up with her luggage – comprising of a cat, a record player, few hardcover books and carton full of cat food – Suzy (Kara Hayward) waits for Sam at the meadows, on the other part of the island. Their backstory tells us that, they have been pen-pals for about a year, and their troubled upbringing – Sam seeking adjustments in his foster family and Suzy being considered a troubled child by her parents (Bill Murray and Frances McDormand) – has urged them to plan an escape, where only two of them will go under an adventure of a lifetime.
Their plan, however, initiates the pursuit from a cluster of adults including Scout Master Ward, Suzy’s parents and the local cop, Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis). The kids give the search team an awful ride through the dense forests and crisscrossing rivers.
I’ll remember this Wes Anderson classic as a mix of humor and colors; it parodies tributes almost everything about the American life – mostly movies. There are unseen hints throughout the movie where characters mock war films, spy films and Bruce Willis even satires his Die Hard character.
There’s a scene where Suzy and Sam French kiss each other, I have to admit this scene was one of the most disturbing scenes I’ve ever watched. It just seems horrible to see twelve-year olds smooching.
Wes is a master when it comes to detailing; he’s careful in giving each character a unique touch, be it in terms of costumes or mannerisms, thus intensifying the quirks in them. The humor is often too subtle and occasionally farcical. But also with meticulous design and texture, Wes puts the storytelling in priority, and makes the screenplay less gimmicky and characters more sympathetic.
Shot majestically in the rugged terrains of Rhode Island, I found the cinematography of Robert Yeoman vividly imaginative: the constant swish pans and snap zooms work wonders in maintaining the film’s retro mood.
Moonrise Kingdom is a luscious ensemble masterpiece that will echo in my consciousness for a long time. The movie did moderately well at the box-office and has earned one Oscar Nomination (Best Original Screenplay). This sweet little story of prepubescent love strikes every note with perfection.
Pragyan Thapa 