Thursday, September 10, 2026

Update: Now, I've Seen Everything Dept.: Superman

The Never-Ending Battle for Truth, Justice, and the American Way
or
(The Best Two Out of Three)

Nietzsche's concepts about the transcendent "Übermensch" simultaneously inspired the Nazi's to work towards their concept of an Aryan "Master Race," while also inspiring two weisenheimer Jewish kids from Cleveland to create their own "Super-man," set adrift like Moses among the stars to settle on a planet, which enabled him to "possess powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men." 
 
The silver screen has chronicled his "never-ending battle for Truth, Justice and the American Way," starting in the 1940's with feature cartoons, moving into serials, and then landing on the silver screen in legitimate films. Here's a look at them.
 

Superman and the Mole-Men (Lee Sholem, 1951) A black-and-white short film (running just under an hour), Superman and the Mole Men was a trial-run (a pilot, if you will) for the subsequent "Superman" television series starring George Reeves as the Man of Steel. Metropolis Daily Planet reporters Clark Kent (Reeves) and Lois Lane (Phyllis Coates) are assigned to cover the world's deepest oil-well, and find that something, or some "things," have come up through that well to see what's on the surface poking around their habitat. It being the 50's (of course, we were so backward then!) the town's populace fears the Invaders (probably around before them!), and set up a vigilante mob to deal with them. But Superman (being an unpapered alien, himself) pleads the case for tolerance--by turning the mob's guns into pretzels. Shot on a shoe-string budget (a ray-weapon carried by the Mole men was made out of an Electrolux vacuum cleaner!), Superman and the Mole Men is long on exposition, but short on costly super-heroics. Still, given the material, the actors give it their all. 

Coates
was always my favorite Lois Lane, tough as nails, and more prone to kicking an assailant in the shins than shrieking back in horror. And Reeves is all steel-jawed seriousness as Kent and Superman. There's none of the winking-at-the-audience that would come later in the series--Superman is all-business and Reeves plays the Man of Steel absolutely straight, like it's a mission. And because he believes in it, you have to take him at face value, even if the trappings that surround him aren't too convincing. Reeves would go on to play the Man of Steel until his death by gun-shot (ruled a suicide) in 1959.


Superman: The Movie (Richard Donner, 1979) For a movie that promised "You'll believe a man can fly" it couldn't be more elephantine. The Salkind family of producers bought the movie rights to Superman, and in an orgiastic frenzy to garner investors hired Godfather scribe Mario Puzo to write the script (sure seems like a natural!) and hired Marlon Brando and Gene Hackman to star. They had a movie! Well, sort of....Puzo turned in a massive script, Brando had his usually odd ideas to avoid work, Hackman was getting a little nervous. Things started to gel when Richard Donner was hired to direct. First, he settled things down. The script, which had been worked on by the Bonnie and Clyde team of Benton and Newman, was hammered into shape by Tom Mankiewicz. Then they hired the big guns, Lois Lane and Superman. For Lois, they picked Margot Kiddernot a glamour-puss, but a dame, who could convincingly play the "goes-all-gooey" side of the Daily Planet reporter. And for Superman/Clark Kent, they picked a skinny up-and-comer named Christopher Reeve, who wasn't all that sure he wanted the job. But Christopher Reeve made a fine, slightly self-deprecating Superman, and Superman made him a star.

The movie's all over the map, but moves at such a clip, you're not allowed time to notice. There's the austere Krypton section that ladles on the tragedy with Marlon Brando playing it absolutely straight. There's the Smallville segment with Glenn Ford, and an America so archetypal that they had to film it in Canada. And then there's the loopy Metropolis section, as Superman (who seems to enjoy the effect he has on ordinary mortals) must battle the nefarious Lex Luthor (Gene Hackman, clearly enjoying playing comedy) and his curiously buffoonish aides-de-camp (Valerie Perrine and Ned Beatty). The thing should fly apart at the seams, but Donner's rock-solid direction, Stuart Baird's don't-blink editing and John Williams' anthem-pumping score keeps the momentum going so the thing never touches the ground. It's a little bit of a miracle.



Superman II (Richard Lester & Richard Donner, 1980) Superman: The Movie was a miracle, but a costly one. Financed to be two movies, Donner was forced to concentrate finishing the one at the sacrifice of the second—sequences were re-shuffled* to meet the Christmas release date, and some things just weren't shot. Donner accomplished his primary goal, though, the first one was a flying success, and Donner was rewarded...by being fired. "Production consultant" Richard Lester--who directed the Salkind's near-perfect "Musketeers" movies--was brought in to finish Part II...with some provisos—to be considered the director of note, he had to have directed at least 50% of the picture. That meant scrapping some of the Donner footage. Hackman wasn't coming back, and Brando's already-shot footage was shelved, to relieve the producers of any financial burden. A lot of fans prefer II to the first one. But...they're crazy. Lester's touch is far more goofy and slap-stick than Donner's, to the point of silliness. Plus, Superman is given a whole roster of new powers to defeat the Kryptonian villains (and zap Lois into forgetting Clark is Superman). Some scenes like a super-brawl on Broadway are impressive, but others like the Krypton Trio in a poor-excuse-for-Mayberry not only don't play well but are insultingly juvenile. Plus, Superman sleeps with Lois. Hold that thought. You'll need it later.

After years of wondering what the Donner Superman II would have been like, the director was given unprecedented access to re-edit Superman II "his way," restoring long-abandoned scenes and even restoring Marlon Brando to the story! The result? Not very successful, but an interesting curiosity. The problems besetting Superman II were more than just digital editing could solve. It is neither a vindication for Donner, nor a smack-down of Lester. That would come later.

Above: York as Lara in Lester's version
Below: Reeve and Brando in their only scene together from Donner's cut


Superman III (Richard Lester, 1983) Just like the dumb idea of giving Superman extra powers he had never previously displayed or needed, at some point it was decided by the Salkind producing team that Superman alone wouldn't draw crowds. The solution? Bring in another box-office star, and one of the most beloved at the time was Richard Pryor, who had a knack for bringing in audiences. His improvisational brilliance had rescued poor material in the past, but even Pryor had little to work with here. He plays a computer savant who is coerced by evil magnate Robert Vaughn (who doesn't have quite the comedic chops of Gene Hackman) to build an evil empire run by a super-computer that could even kill Superman. That's one part of the movie. The other is that Clark Kent goes back home to Smallville to attend a high school reunion and re-links with his old sweetheart Lana Lang (Annette O' Toole, trying vainly—she went on to play Martha Kent on TV's "Smallville"). Lois makes the briefest of appearances, either because her story had run its course—or Margot Kidder was in salary disputes with the producers, depending who you talk to. At one point, Pryor's Gus Gorman creates some half-baked synthetic kryptonite that turns Superman into a super-creep. As much as Reeve might have found it dramatically freeing to play Bad-assuperman, it's disheartening. The whole movie is.


Superman IV: The Quest For Peace (Sidney J. Furie, 1987)  III is bad, but it's better than this one. Produced by fire-sale film company The Cannon Group, the franchise was taken out of moth-balls with a story idea by Reeve where Superman decides to become a one-man disarmament program, taking all of Earth's nuclear weapons and throwing them into the Sun. One problem, though: Gene Hackman is back as Lex Luthor, and he's got a new plot to become the greatest arms manufacturer the world has ever seen. But first, he has to kill the Man of Steel, so he creates a Frankenstein's monster of a sun-powered strongman. Things get a bit hazy at this point, because prior to release, the film was edited by some 45 minutes making it practically unintelligible. Oh, well. Lois Lane appeared. Mariel Hemingway is there as a romantic rival for Clark for some reason...and Superman gets some even newer powers--this time, Great-Wall-of-China-rebuilding-vision. Flying and being able to squeeze diamonds out of coal doesn't have the same thrill it once had, apparently, especially when the effects are as flat and badly thought out as they are here (dare I say that the effects in Superman and the Mole-Men are more convincing?). Superman IV: The Quest for Peace pretty much killed off the series for close to twenty years, marking the last time Reeve would play Superman.


Superman Returns (Bryan Singer, 2006) Years in development that saw rumors of a Tim Burton version starring Nicolas Cage, a Kevin Smith script, and other wild schemes were finally brought to a screeching halt when Bryan Singer jumped from the "X-men" franchise to tackle his dream project--bringing back Superman. His Superman. The Superman from the earliest Reeve films. So Superman Returns has an oddly nostalgic feel to it--almost morosely nostalgic. By this time Brando was dead, and Christopher Reeve had finally succumbed to complications from his spinal injury. At times, Superman Returnfeels like a wake. It doesn't help that Singer has so much love for the first two films that he can't treat it with anything less than an almost religious devotion. This Superman is treated like a tragic, lonely god, but it's tough to feel sorry for him when he's the most powerful guy on the planet. If Superman can get the Kryptonite blues, what hope do the rest of us have? Vintage Brando footage is restored for Kal-el's father. Kevin Spacey fills in Gene Hackman's shoes (inadequately) as Lex Luthor. And Kate Bosworth is a more mature, less fun Lois Lane (she lacks Kidder's almost-macho fire). The film only has a proper feel when Supes is doing some incredible stunt, like saving a falling airplane (easily the best sequence in the film). Also SR takes up a few years after the timeline of Superman II, so...that little Supes-Lois tryst? There's a little issue that goes with it. Brandon Routh looks and talks so much like Chris Reeve it's down-right haunting. Despite being a success at the box-office, it was still not the blockbuster that Warner Bros. expected, and Routh's turn in the suit ended at one (although he would return in the "Crisis" crossover event on the CW).
When Superman says he "has to catch a plane..."


The Man of Steel (Zack Snyder, 2013) Singer's lackluster Return of Superman (despite throwing a lot of money into it) did not produce a sequel. Instead, Warner Bros. (which seems destined to destroy any comics franchise it tinkers with and may be the second greatest threat to Superman besides kryptonite) put it on the back-burner. They managed to stay out of the way for another comics movie franchise, Graham Nolan's Batman trilogy re-boot. That was successful, both in concept and in the ledger books, so, thinking creatively, they tapped Nolan to executive produce a re-red-boot of Superman, away from the Reeves' legacy and starting fresh. Batman trilogy scribe David Goyer wrote the script and Nolan hired Zack Snyder (300, Watchmen) to supervise-direct.

Snyder made what is probably his best film, leaving his green-screen obsession for just the Krypton scenes, and using honest-to-gosh real locations for the story of Kal-el's journey to hero. An apt choice, as was the decision  to revamp the conception of Krypton (and Kal-el), making the character an outlier on both worlds. The other good thing about it, in association with the first, is the veering away, at least temporarily, from the usual super-hero tropes. This is an alien invasion movie where the Kryptonian villain Zod (Michael Shannon) and his minions come to Earth seeking the natural-born son of Jor-el (Russell Crowe) and Lara (Ayelet Zurer), an abomination in his eyes and the source for bringing Krypton (or something like it) back from extinction. And the Super-man (Henry Cavill) is not wearing tights while saving kittens from trees, he's wandering the country doing extraordinarily skilled manual labor jobs, until he has to "save the day" then disappears, heeding Earth-father Jonathan Kent's (Kevin Costner) warning that his uniqueness makes him susceptible to the whims of power.

That's all well and very good, but Man of Steel descends into the biggest brawl-fest between two super-beings ever put on screen, which, while momentarily interesting (and far superior to the struggles in Superman II), wears out its welcome very quickly and becomes as dull as a "Transformers" movie—while also bringing up the question (as Metropolis lies in ruins) "Why are super-heroes a GOOD thing, again?" This is not something you want to ask in a super-hero movie. Sure, you can believe a man can fly, but you shouldn't believe you'd prefer him in a town other than yours. It negates the whole "hero" thing...

When last we see him, he has set himself up as a reporter for The Daily Planet in Metropolis, but despite staving off an attack from survivors of his home planet, he now must contend with the suspicions of those on his adopted world.
Like any alien invasion movie, the military draws down on
the threat—an aloof and separate Superman


Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice (Zack Snyder, 2016) We cover this on the "Everything: Batman" article, but it's important to see the "Superman" side of things as well, as it is a direct follow-up to Man of Steel, even incorporating incidents from that film as a launching point for the central "conflict" of this film. The Metropolis conflagration caused the deaths of many of the Wayne Foundation's employees, causing Bruce Wayne to dust off his Bat-suit, figuring that a super-being with that much power has to be corrupted at some point, and it's better to take him down in a personal battle than after another catastrophe of some magnitude.

In the film (Henry Cavill's second and he's rather charmless in it), Clark Kent is a conflicted creature: firmly established as a reporter for The Daily Planet and as the partner of reporter Lois Lane off-Planet, he sees himself as a savior to those in need and is seen as an enemy to those in deed. Everyone in power secretly covets the powers and abilities he possesses and seek to harness it in some way, by hook or by crook. Looked at with suspicion, he is not the smiling, larky Superman of past films, doing good, but sad, troubled, because all the good he does comes with consequences, and all he can do is look to the women in his life who know him best and know his secrets—Lois and Ma Kent—for guidance. Plus, he's got this vigilante coming after him: as reporter Clark Kent, he wonders why this Bat-manhunter is taking the law into his own brutal hands, and also why he's targeting him, as well.

Besieged from all sides, the Last Son of Krypton, feels truly alone. But, taking example from what he thinks is his worst enemy, he learns the true lesson of sacrifice, giving his all, and falls in battle. 

Batman v Superman takes a big chance by killing off one of its big heroes, with the promise of resurrection (there's that Christ-allegory again!) in the very last shot, one that hearkens back to a mysterious moment when Clark/Kal-el makes his first leap with a single bound. It leaves one intrigued with how they'll pull it off.
 
 
Justice League
(Snyder-Joss Whedon, 2017)/ 
Evidently, bringing Superman back to life is a lot harder job than it would appear, at least if you're a Warner Brothers executive.
 
Where Superman falls into play in both versions of the Justice League story is that it is decided—by Batman in the short version and "the team" in ZSJS—to use Kryptonian technology and Flash-powers to bring Superman back to life. This is done far more easily than one would think, but, when revived, Kal-el is more than a bit pissed off. The timely arrival of Lois Lane—by design in JL; by accident in ZSJL—grounds him enough that he is able to snap out of his memory-lapse and returns to help the League finish the job of dispatching the minions of Apokolips. Both films feature a less-grim Superman than the previous versions with Cavill, although he's far more larky and jokey in Whedon's cut, as well as wearing the traditional blue-red Super-suit (Snyder places him in a funeral-black version).
 
By now, everyone knows the story: Snyder had planned two Justice League movies and filmed them back-to-back. Warner Brothers, responding to the less-than-anticipated box office of Batman v. Superman, changed their minds and wanted just one movie to be less than two hours and far less dark than BvS. It was a logistical nightmare and then Snyder withdrew due to a family tragedy. Warner hired Joss Whedon (because: Avengers) and it was his job to bring in a half-sized Justice League, have it make some sort of sense, and be lighter in tone. Not an easy job, especially with a lot of re-shoots needed to close gaps and bridge sequences. 
 
Still, the Snyder version is the fuller story—not short-changing the Aquaman, Flash, and (especially) Cyborg stories—bringing in Big DC Bad-Guy, Darkseid, and generally making a more consistent DC Universe. And Whedon's Superman is almost TOO happy after being raised from the dead and everything. 
 
Superman 
(James Gunn, 2025) When James Gunn was handed the super-keys to the DC Universe (after directing two Guardians of the Galaxy
 films and a quite bonkers version of DC's Suicide Squad), the question was "what would he do with it?"). This is the former Troma-guy who wrote and directed Super. His movies were weird, "out there" and somewhat heretical to slavish fan-boy expectations. So, what would he do with the "too-invulnerable-to-crack" Rosetta Stone character who'd been turned into a mopey, grim-and-gritty version of his former self by the last couple guys who tackled him? Gunn declared he was going to return Super-guy, who was "not cynical. And I think that one of my fears about doing Superman — because I was offered Superman seven years ago, and I was afraid it was too mainstream for me, too Pollyanna, too good natured, that I'm an edgier filmmaker than that. And the truth is, there's nothing more edgy than him not being cynical, just being a good-natured, kind guy. Because that is absolutely going against the grain in this world today. And I love that part of the movie."
 
So do I. Past directors of Superman have emphasized the alien nature, the "outsider" aspect of "The Big Blue Boy Scout" to the point of annoyance. Even George Reeves' Superman was an outsider with secrets kept from his closest friends. But, never from the viewers. Reeves would literally wink at the camera, bringing us into his world, not eating his heart out in a "Fortress of Solitude" (more like "Fortress of Depressive Self-Pity"). Gunn's version of him isn't so sure of himself that he doesn't think he's "above" us or infallible. He knows he's going to fail sometimes, and is just doing the best he can, given the values he was immersed in growing up in Kansas.
 
Then, Gunn does what Gunn does. Pulls out some of the sillier aspects of the DC magazine universe and stirs them into the mix, making Superman's world more diverse, more chaotic, and in contrast to our hero's sense of normalcy. 
 
I like it. It's not definitive. But, it'll do to have him around for awhile.

Super-Bonus:

Supergirl (Jeannot Szwarc, 1984) Back in the days after Superman III, but before IV, when it was kind of tough to pin Christopher Reeve into coming back to play Superman, the producers Salkind had it in mind to expand the franchise by creating an off-shoot, featuring Kal-el's cousin Kara Zor-el, whose family also survived the destruction of of the planet Krypton in the protectively-domed Argo City. Forced to flee the city in space to retrieve a misplaced power source, the Omegahedron, she comes to Earth as Linda Lee, but follows in her cousin's flight-path as Supergirl


The filmmakers do try to make it work. Helen Slater is a real charmer as The Maid of Might, and the cast is surrealistically amazing: Peter O'Toole, Faye Dunaway, Mia Farrow, Peter Cook, Brenda Vaccaro, but David Odell's script is a godawful fantasy mess. The vet's try their best with Dunaway's work feeling like an audition to play Cruella Deville...or her subsequent role as Joan Crawford. Composer Jerry Goldsmith gives a taste of what his "Superman" score would have been like--he and John Williams were trading off being assigned to it during its extended production. Supergirl is a bit better than Superman III and IV, but that's not saying an awful lot.


Supergirl (Craig Gillespie, 2026) "Not my monkeys. Not my circus." says Kara Zor-el (Milly Alcock), all of 23 solar years, another Kryptonian refugee, but whose up-bringing is a bit...different. An inveterate partier, she travels the galaxy from sun to sun (red when she wants to get drunk, which is often, and yellow when she wants her powers and abilities back—titles let us know solar categories) and she's drifting on a grief-drowning cosmic pub-crawl. She's not your gramma's Supergirl. She doesn't even resemble the current SuperMAN, who's nice and wants to help people with his powers and abilities far beyond mortal men. And women. 
 
But, even though his parents were killed on Krypton, Superman isn't an orphan (being raised by the Kents). Kara is. And her period of mourning is intense, and she has nothing to be grateful to Earth for. So, she drifts. And this story based on Tom King's comic-series "Woman of Tomorrow" tells of her pulling herself out of her funk, and doing some good. Of course, saving her dog Krypto is the motivation (hey, it "works" in the "John Wick" series), and if that doesn't attract the fan-boys, an extended cameo of Jason Mamoa in his dream role of cosmic-biker Lobo, is tossed in to amp up the testosterone.

Alcock is great, but Mamoa made a better Aquaman, and the thing feels like it's marking time rather than doing something that's unique in the "superhero" genre, which is getting fairly standard with the glut of "spandex" movies.
"Captain, we've lost an engine!...Oh!..Wait! Found it!"
 


* (Spoiler alert) The solves-all-problems time-reversal ending of II's script was thrown onto I, and the cliff-hanger ending of I (the space-bound nuke hijacked by Lex Luthor unwittingly frees three Kryptonian villains from "The Phantom Zone") was jettisoned--no one knew for sure there would be a Superman II though it was promised at the end of the 10+ minutes End Credits

Tuesday, September 8, 2026

Update: Now I've Seen Everything Dept.: Wes Anderson

A Young Adult's Guide to Growing Up (Sort of) in the 70's

Wesley Wales Anderson was born in Houston, Texas on May 1, 1969. Anderson began experimenting with writing short plays and making home movies as a child, and continued that interest at the University of Texas, majoring in philosophy. It's there that he met his first of many collaborators, Owen Wilson, and in 1992, the two fashioned a short black and white film called "Bottle Rocket" starring Wilson and his younger brother Luke—they couldn't hire actors, due to the miniscule budget. But, they could submit it to the Sundance Film Festival. And the rest plays out like a particularly amazing after-school special.  Or...one of Anderson's films.


Bottle Rocket (1996) Anderson's first feature came about as a result of producer James L. Brooks seeing the short at Sundance. With Brooks' help and the endorsement of such industry-folk as Polly Platt and L.M. Kit Carson (the film had a role featuring Platt's daughter), Wilson and Anderson expanded the script in a deal to make a feature version for Columbia Pictures. The odd, fully expanded Bottle Rocket not only scored the lowest test scores at previews, but only opened in 42 cities in the U.S., guaranteeing that it wouldn't grab the attention of...anyone.  

The story of two friends, Dignan (Owen Wilson) and Anthony (Luke Wilson), it begins when Dignan helps Anthony leave a psychiatric hospital, where the latter has checked in for "exhaustion." Dig then outlines a "75 year plan" for a criminal career that sounds anything but restful. It's an eccentric "coming of age" scenario where the aimless Anthony must learn to live by the counseling of his "out-on-a-limb" friend, jump-starting his life

The work was strong enough, of its own, that it slowly gained cult-film status through home video, and then, through Hollywood (Martin Scorsese says it's one of the "Top ten" films of the 90's), making Anderson a particularly strong (and obviously eccentric) voice in the independent film culture. 
Anderson's short film on which the feature is based.

The "75 year plan"


Rushmore (1998) If Bottle Rocket seemed a little ambling in nature, Anderson's next film was extraordinarily assured and disciplined. Another collaboration between Owen Wilson and Anderson, it's the story of an under-performing enfant terrible, Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman, in his film debut), who gets kicked out of his exclusive ivy-league High School and must exist in the uninspiring world of public school. 

Ordinarily, this wouldn't be a problem for Max, as he's less of a student and more of a public institution, putting the "extra" in "extra-curricular," with a Wellesian brio and ego. Max's chutzpah attracts the attention of one of the Ivy-league fathers (Bill Murray), whose own kids, the product of an unhappy marriage, have none of Max's zest. His interest leads him to an affair with the teacher that Max is in love with, Rosemary Cross (Olivia Williams) which further complicates things.

It's a weird hybrid of sources, from Salinger to Schulz, cuisinarted to become a bizarre anti-matter version of The Graduate, and starting to cement Wes Anderson's use of one-point perspective, composed to create a single, central locus, making his frames rectangular black holes to suck in the focus of his viewers. That perspective would start to dominate his work more and more, starting with his next film.
Max (Jason Schwartzmann) in a rebellious phase

The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) An all-star cast (Gene Hackman, Anjelica Huston, Ben Stiller, Gwyneth Paltrow, Danny Glover and, of course, the Wilson brothers and Murray) in another script by Owen Wilson and Anderson. The Tenenbaums are an entirely dysfunctional family of geniuses and savants, who can't seem to overcome their early childhood successes and meet (much less exceed) their potential. They are a family of over-achievers crippled by arrested development.* If there's a strain of J.D. Salinger in Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums goes further and feels like the cinematic version of Salinger's "Glass" family.

Father Royal (Hackman) is a con man who decides to return to his family after decades of absenteeism—and, of course, after he's been evicted from his hotel for not paying the rent—only to find that his gifted children are stuck on a treadmill of bad choices, childhood obsessions, and long-held personality ticks. He also is determined to derail the impending nuptials between his wife, Etheline (Huston) and her accountant (Glover).

If the film has a down-side (and it does), it is that the extended Tenenbaums are so zombie-like as to be not very interesting and certainly not as much fun as the "old goat" father is, enhanced by Hackman's gift for wolfish comedy, which is infectiously enjoyable. It's not the other actors' faults, so much as the characters Wilson and Anderson have written for them. Even in a real zombie movie, you don't root for the zombies.
The young Margot and Chas in their little box environments


The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004) No one's in the comfort zone on this one. Written by Anderson and Noah Baumbach as a satiric tribute to the television documentaries they grew up on, The Life Aquatic... stars Murray as an un-charismatic version of Jacques Cousteau, Anjelica Huston as "the brains of Team Zissou," Willem Dafoe as German crewman Klaus, Cate Blanchett as a brittle reporter covering Zissou's latest documentary, only this time it's personal about the hunting of the "jaguar-shark" that killed Zissou's best friend (Seymour Cassel). Zissou's family is another splinter-group, due to the father's ambivalence towards them, and his own obsessions with himself. Most of the film he spends wondering if the young man who enters his life (Owen Wilson, again) might be the son he never knew. For Zissou, his crew is more his family (with the advantage that he's actually their boss) and even his quest for the shark of myth is a half-baked mission, more in keeping with his role as a self-promoting filmmaker-adventurer than for anything really personal.

Meandering, and a bit off-course much of the time, The Life Aquatic is an acquired taste.
Bill Murray as Steve Zissou, life passing him by.


The Darjeeling Limited (2007) Here's what I wrote in 2007: Wes Anderson is one of those directors who can be really "on" or really "off." Sometimes his movies are merely mordant exercises in quirk, much ado about neurotics. Nothing happens, but people are in a dither for a couple hours. But The Darjeeling Limited is a solid movie that stays on the tracks, if not the beaten path, for its entire length. Oh, people are dithering, alright--there's an especially screwball flashback sequence where the Whitman Brothers (Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody and Jason Schwartzman) are on their way to their father's funeral, and stop off at the garage where Dad was getting his car fixed. The sequence is intricately thought out and such a brilliant example of people desperately finding temporary solutions for long-term problems that one might recall similar family clusters in their own life.

But The Darjeeling Limited is about a close-knit family that's come unraveled—well, exploded in selfishness and separation—and is brought together by the control freak of the bunch (raising suspicion and defensiveness) to take a train trip across India, ostensibly to find their mother, but ultimately to find themselves. Or each other. Or to find a way to work together, rather than cross-purposes (in frequently hilarious ways). What could have been eye-rollingly heart-warming (ala Little Miss Sunshine) becomes intriguing and dramatically interesting, with good performances by the Anderson stock company (Anjelica Huston
, WilsonSchwartzman, and Bill Murray in a cameo), but also Adrien Brody
 who steps seamlessly into Anderson's off-axis world of vacant stares, and pregnant pauses.
"I'm going to go pray at another thing:"
Schwartzman, Brody, and Wilson still have some healing to do.

Hotel Chevalier (2007) Short film that tied in tangentially with The Darjeeling Limited as Jason Schwartzman's Jack Whitman character hooks up with "the girlfriend" (she's never named and played by Natalie Portman) who inspires the "short story" he wrote in Paris. And, I dunno, but I think she might be "gaslighting" him.


Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) Anderson experimented with stop-motion animation to create the strange creatures in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, using a technique that's more like the old "Gumby" films, rather than, say, the Rankin-Bass films of his youth.  For his first film adaptation, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, based on a Roald Dahl book (adapted by Anderson and Noah Baumbach), he went full stop-motion animation, planning it out and leaving the filming to a team of animators (supervised first by Henry Selick, then Mark Gustafson) along the lines of the Tim Burton model. 

It might seem like an odd project for Anderson, but Dahl's sensibilities and writing had informed his previous films, like Rushmore, and the way Anderson's directing style was forming, the proscenium arch settings and cracker-box tableaux of Mr. Fox hew right into that one-point perspective he was becoming so enamored with. In fact, stylistically, it's difficult to tell the difference between Fantastic Mr. Fox and his next film.


Moonrise Kingdom (2012) Anderson's sixth feature is a romantic's version of 'the barefoot bandit" story, but without the issues of ego, narcissism, and general public nuisance, and Anderson couches it all in an idiosyncratic format with scrupulous Kubrickian stylistic fluorishes—the measured tracking pace, the hand-held shots of freedom and chaos; the stylized expressionless acting, the structured mise en scene, perfectly balanced on a central fulcrum.  On top of that, it's hilarious, with dialogue that's formal, distinct, played absolutely straight, betraying no irony, delivered in a deadpan lack of elevation.  

Two kids decide to run away from their structured environments: Suzy (Kara Hayward), from her shattering family (parented by Bill Murray and Frances McDormand; Sam (Jared Gilman) from his Boy Scout troop (led by Edward Norton).  They run off into the wild, trying to escape the various search parties trying to find them, and the local police (led by Bruce Willis).  

Presented as if a documentary by Bob Balaban, Moonrise Kingdom is funodd, and rebellious in Anderson's over-stated understated fashion.

This shot still cracks me up: "Jiminy Cricket, he flew the coop!"

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) Anderson's 7th feature is as light as a soufflé and as multilayered as one of those perfect "Mendl's pastries" that are featured in the film. Anderson mixes past and future, starting in the present and going back in time with an ever-constricting aspect ratio in order to tell the tale of how a lobby-boy named Zero (Tony Revolori) came to own the Grand Budapest Hotel ("the last faint glimmer of civilization in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity") set in the country of Zubrowka —as related in 1968 by the elder Zero (F. Murray Abraham) to the author (Jude Law), who would write the history of the hotel in 1986 (as Tom Wilkinson). It's a complex tale involving the hey-day of the Hotel in pre-War 1932, when the wily concierge M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) purloined a precious painting and was subsequently accused of murder and spent time in prison. It's a combination of playhouse miniatures, meticulous full-scale hotel interiors, and sequences of cartoonish manic energy that leave one a little breathless.


Isle of Dogs (aka 犬ヶ島, 2016) Anderson returns to stop-motion animation with a different aesthetic: combining Kurosawa with the feel of the Rankin/Bass holiday specials from the 1960's that he loves. Telling the story of how a corrupt bureaucracy can oppress an entire sub-set of life by manufacturing a crisis, the film focuses on Japan's dog population being sequestered to "Trash Island" after an outbreak of "Snout Fever" and then allowed to be forgotten, one can see all sorts of real-world metaphors being applicable for penalization, segregation and ostracism. The human species if all-too capable of all that. But, Anderson makes the film a lot more sophisticated in graphic detail and story-telling technique giving the film a mixed-media vibe far beyond what he has displayed in the past. For someone so enamored of the one-point perspective, he seems to be extending his technique by not moving the camera, as filling it in interesting ways beyond its point of view. 
 

The French Dispatch (of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun) (2020) Anderson's eighth film is a magazine format film about a magazine—the fictitious French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas Sun (any resemblance to The New Yorker are purely reverential. The product of its editor's extended holiday in the city of Ennui-sur-Blasé (where he chose to stay),The French Dispatch is a magazine of higher tastes about the local scene with accomplished writers holding forth and making "something" of the city's day-to-day.
 
The film is an omnibus of the publication's final issue following the death of its publisher Arthur Horowitz, Jr. (Bill Murray). No more publication would be forthcoming and all subscriptions to future issues would be re-funded. That issue contains an obituary of Horowitz, the standard bicycle tour of Herbsaint Sazerac (Owen Wilson) and three stories of particular note from the magazine's past: "The Concrete Masterpiece"—about an insane murderer's (Benicio Del Toro) unlikely rise in the art field (as related by art historian J.K.L. Berenson (Tilda Swinton); "Revisions to a Manifesto" the work of Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand) in which she struggles with her objectivity in covering a youth revolt called "The Chess Revolution"; and "The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner" by noted author Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright) on the singular events surrounding his invitation to review the exquisite meals served to city's Police Commissioner (Mathieu Almaric), where a kidnapping is served as just desserts.
 
Fast-paced, with a consistent obliteration of "The Fourth Wall" The French Dispatch might well be called "Keaton-esque" in its dead-pan delivery amongst the frantic goings-on screen-wise. Many cinematic tricks and playing with "the form" but one is advised to see it on as big a screen as possible as the sub-titles are rather small and delicate. 


Asteroid City
(2023) The story of the first contact of humans and aliens isn't nearly as life-changing as most experts think, as the precedent is the concerns of a couple dozen people quarantined at the "Junior Stargazer/Space Cadet" convention at the tourist-trap town near the Arid Springs Meteorite impact crater. The concerns are a government-imposed quarantine, the contest for the kids at the convention, the usual conflicts of disparate people thrown together where kids are concerned and where the chance of romance blooms even in the desert.

Anderson tells that story, but he stages it as the documentary presentation of an arts program (in square TV format) about the creation and subsequent production of the last play of a playwright named Conrad Earp (Edward Norton). Jason Schwartzman leads the voluminous cast which, when it's not told from the point of view of the television series is in severe widescreen tinted in the bleached colors of long-in-sun post-card. Anderson stretches the production until it's so tight it threatens to snap an audience's attention, but it's dead-pan humor and constant fancifulness keeps the things afloat.
 
The Wonderful World of Henry Sugar and Three More 
(2023) Anderson was a huge fan of Dahl's writing (He did an adaptation of The Fantastic Mr. Fox), and he wanted to do more, but when he signed on to this he didn't know it would be consigned to Netflix (who bought The Roald Dahl Story Company for 686 million smackers), rather than theaters (or maybe he hoped they'd be less stingy about theatrical releases). But no, the four short films, "The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar," "The Swan," "Poison", and "The Ratcatcher" debuted on the streaming channel, presenting itself (under Anderson's supervision) as short films that had originally appeared on the fictional British Channel 7 in 1978.
 
Anderson completely throws out trying for filmic verisimilitude, presenting the films as seemingly "live" presentations with disappearing sets, visible stagehands, and a fourth-wall-breaking aesthetic, making the settings exoticly claustrophobic neverlands that don't distract from the stories, but act as their own little "bubble-worlds". The cast, Benedict Cumberbatch, Ben Kingsley, Rupert Friend, Ralph Fiennes, Dev Patel, and Richard Ayoade in differing roles much like frequent anthology series guest-stars. A couple are better than others, but blame the stories, not Anderson's inventiveness.
      
 
The Phoenecian Scheme
(2025) A dense little puzzle-box of a movie (reminiscent of Orson Welles' Mr. Arkadin) set in the 1950's, of an unscrupulously wealthy man, Anatole "Zsa Zsa" Korda (Benicio del Toro), who, upon surviving the latest in a series of assassination attempts, embarks on one Last Grand Scheme, a business deal of such impact that it will outshine his past mis-deeds and money-grabs as His Legacy. At the same time, it gives him a chance to take stock of his life, try to mend fences with people estranged from him, and maybe find who...or what...is trying to kill him (and if they had anything to do with the death of his last wife).
 
This one is as dense as can be—I can't help wondering if Anderson and his co-writer Roman Coppola had the chock-a-block "strange-bedfellows" approach to movie financing when they conceived it—with a dizzying number of Anderson alums stopping by for cameos, and locales...one of which is a Powellian black-and-white Heaven (Bill Murray, of course, plays God).
 
del Toro has the herculean burden of the lead player, but mention must be made of his two co-horts in his quest for funds, Michael Cera, and Mia Threapleton, who plays his daughter, a Catholic novice. New to Anderson's major-miniature world, they fit in like they'd always been there.
 



Wes Anderson // Centered from kogonada on Vimeo.



* Mitch Hurvitz, created his "Arrested Development" series before The Royal Tenenbaums and almost abandoned it, after seeing Anderson's film.