Last weekend, I went on one of my coveted solo movie outings to take in Moonrise Kingdom. I'm a big fan of Wes Anderson's visual creations - but not always the entirety of his movies. The Royal Tenenbaums is still one of my top five re-watchable films (insert rant about Bottle Rocket being his only decent movie here) but Darjeeling and Zissou left me a little cold in the full-shebang department.
Maybe it was just the magical feeling of the whole thing, combined with a long, quiet walk home to fully digest it. Maybe it was the charming interview with Terry Gross that I listened to earlier in the week (in which Anderson weirdly avoids mentioning either of the kids by name - they are simply "the boy" and "the girl"). But I really, really loved every second of this movie. The awkward child actors - and there were many, my far and away favorite being Redford, the ignobly wounded, dirtbike riding ginger - gave off a feeling of pre-adolescent importance that I found charming. Their words and actions reminded me of that giddy fantasy feeling of starring in a Very Relevant play based on your own Very Interesting life. Of course Sam is an orphan, fitting the description of every hero and heroine of all the stories I wrote.
Anyhow, I was able to ignore my hypocritical annoyance with the crowd of twee couples in three-piece suits and fifties housewife dresses and fully embrace my completely predictable, art-school grad love. And then I went home and proceeded to draw. You can say a lot of things about Wes Anderson, but his work always makes me want to create things.
Yes yes yes! Wes Anderson always makes me want to create things... and dress like true characters from whichever of his movies that I've seen last- now I have to figure out how to mix Suzy's wardrobe with the duck boot wearing cartographer! They were my faves.
ReplyDeleteI KNOW. At first, I kept thinking about how little Margot Tenenbaum and Suzy would be BFF's, then I realized that just because they both like berets doesn't mean they wouldn't just cut each other.
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