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 çŠ¬ãƒ¶å³¶, 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.

Friday, August 28, 2026

Coyote vs. ACME

Violating Every Law, Including the Laws of Physics and Gravity
or
Sue ACME!?! The One's You SHOULD Be Suing is Warner Bros.! 
 
Writer Michael Maltese and director Charles M. Jones created the long-enduring "Roadrunner" (Geococcyx californianus*)/ "Coyote" (Canis latrans** series in 1949 (debuting September 17th of that year) with the animated short "Fast and Furry-ous," they could not have known how enduring the concept would become. Their stated intention was to parody the current "chase" cartoons—like "Tom and Jerry" being produced by their rivals at M-G-M.*** 
 
The concept could not have been simpler: a hungry coyote attempts to feed himself by chasing a roadrunner along the buttes and mesas of Arizona with the purpose of catching it. Being of less speed than his prey, he augments his pursuit by various lethal means, all of which seem to work against him. Sometimes to a degree that can only call in the intervention of a divine power. Still, undaunted (although increasingly fragile of mind, body, and spirit), the coyote continues his quest, either convinced of his own eventual inevitable superiority or because he's crippled with obsession to an unhinged degree. 
 
Maybe, he's just really hungry.
But, he would never...ever...give up. His character is defined in that way. One could see Job in the coyote. Or Sisyphus, something this latest film acknowledges in a little too "on-the-nose" fashion. But, such thoughts are only in the aftermath. They don't come when you're experiencing it, because you're too busy laughing. Or identifying.
 
Both those thoughts came to mind (when I wasn't guffawing) while watching Coyote vs. Acme, the latest "Looney Tunes" movie and certainly the most successful (artistically, at least) of its home studio's many attempts at trying to reclaim its glory days of producing good material from the anarchic spirits of inhabiting "Termite Terrace" doing the work. Face it. Most of the recent "Looney Tunes" attempts have been less than looney, but merely coasting on character recognition and lame recycled material (more on Warner Brothers and their hapless way of handling their little animated gold-mine later). 
 
But, Coyote vs. ACME builds on an inspired good idea from a 1990 New Yorker humor piece of the same name written by Ian Frazier. Then, expands it, complicates it and fills it so full of in-jokes, real-world parallels, and well-timed cartoon moments that the eventual cartoon "Kaboom" is inevitable. The cascading shrapnel of laughter is the end-result. And, boy, do we need that now.
Frazier's article took the form of a protracted legal brief. But, Coyote vs. ACME begins with the last body-penetrating straw. Wile E. Coyote ("Super-genius") attempts to chase the Roadrunner utilizing his latest delivery from the ACME Corporation—ACME having 
a history of being the second worst company to order from (TEMU being the first)—a pair of jet-powered roller-skates. Of course, they malfunction. Of course, things go from bad to worse to worst. Of course, it ends up with a coyote-shaped hole in the desert. And then, the burned-to-a-flattened-crisp canine sees a possible answer. A billboard for the law-firm of Avery, Jones and Maltese (nudge, nudge), led by Will Forte's Kevin Avery) specializing in personal cartoon injuries, court-cases that they inevitable settle out of court. They also offer "Twofer Tuesdays".
So, saddled with a ruck-sack of evidence (it IS a cartoon after all), the hapless coyote travels to the law-firm's headquarters in Albuquerque (not making any left-turns) and demands justice. Not a settlement. A real honest-to-Perry Mason judgement against ACME and their claim of only making "life-enhancing family products." Their lead attorney is the detestable Buddy Crane (Jon Cena), a monster of a litigator at the behest of its CEO, a Mr. F. Leghorn.
I've already spoiled a couple jokes. I will not spoil any others and leave it to your own version of a "Discovery Phase" to enjoy them unrecycled. But, I will say that the jokes come "fast and furry-ous", one on top of the other, exquisitely timed, building to the hammering topper, with screens so full of detail that I probably MISSED as many jokes as I enjoyed. Definitely a repeat-screener.
Is it perfect? No (no comedy is...). There is a live-action chase scene that Chuck Jones would have cut in half, and the ending bends embedded character-tropes to the point of fraying a snapping. And, there is one radical little idea that they might have exploited for an ending that is probably too finger-lickin' good to use. But, these are quibbles. Only an old curmudgeonly Looney Tunes fan like myself should let those lost opportunities darken what is there.
It's a miracle that this movie has reached screens at all. The bone-headed bean-counters at Warner Brothers funded the film to the looney tune of millions of dollars, and, in a move that could only exist in a The Producers-like universe of accountancy, decided that, after all that time and effort...and quality results...they would shelve it, never to see the light of a projector (wait for it)...as a TAX WRITE-OFF. It's a move so contrarian, so Bizarro-world™ (also owned by Warner Brothers), so maroonish, it could be its own cartoon, and fit squarely (and squirrely) into the very movie they were abandoning.
That it's in theaters AT ALL is solely because of fan-protests, a certain amount of deserved corporate shaming, and the cash-waving of ketchup entertainment, who took it out of the cold dead hands of Warner Brothers mis-management in order to put it in theaters and eventually home entertainment. The situation is acknowledged in the end-credits...and there's a nice little dig at Warner Brothers right of the bat.
Perhaps, the WB should abandon Bugs Bunny and Michigan J. Frog as appropriate mascots and, instead, use the coyote as their propensity for shooting themselves in the foot with their own product is becoming the true trademark of this once-great studio.
 
* ** A list of the faux-latin taxonomy names 
Cartoon                                           Roadrunner                           Coyote
"Fast and Furry-ous" 1949            Acceleratii Incredibus           Carnivorous vulgaris
"Zipping Along" 1953                     Velocitus tremenjus              Road-Runnerus digestus
"Stop! Look! And Hasten!" 1954    Hot-roddicus supersonicus   Eatibus anythingus
"Ready.. Set.. Zoom!" 1955           Speedipus rex                        Famishus-famishus 
"Guided Muscle" 1955                    Velocitus delectiblus             Eatibus almost anythingus 
"Gee Whiz-z-z-z-z-z-z" 1956         Delicius-delicius                    Eatius birdius 
"There They Go-Go-Go!" 1956       Dig-outius tid-bittius             Famishius fantasticus
"Scrambled Aches" 1957               Tastyus supersonicus            Eternalii famishiis
"Zoom and Bored" 1957                Birdibus zippibus                   Famishus vulgarus
"Whoa, Be-Gone!" 1958                Birdius high-ballius               Famishus vulgaris ingeniusi 
"Hook, Line and Stinker" 1958      Burnius-roadibus                  Famishius-famishus 
"Hip Hip- Hurry!" 1958                  Digoutis-unbelievablii           Eatius Slobbius 
"Hot-Rod and Reel!" 1959             Super-sonicus-tastius            Famishius-famishus 
"Wild About Hurry" 1959              Batoutahelius                         Hardheadipus oedipus
"Fastest with the Mostest" 1960   Velocitus incalcublii              Carnivorous slobbius 
"Hopalong Casualty" 1960            Speedipus rex                         Hard-Headipus ravenus
"Zip 'n Snort" 1961                        Digoutius-hot-rodis                Evereadii eatibus 
"Lickety-Splat" 1961                      Fastius tasty-us                     Apetitus giganticus 
"Beep Prepared" 1961                   Tid-bitius velocitus                Hungrii flea-baggius
"Zoom at the Top" 1962                Disappearialis quickius          Overconfidentii vulgaris 
 
 *** Jones said he was inspired by a childhood reading of Mark Twain's "Roughing it".
In his book "Chuck Amuck" he wrote, "I first became interested in the coyote while devouring Mark Twain’s Roughing It at the age of seven. I had heard of the coyote only in passing references from passing adults and thought of it – if I thought of it at all – as a sort of dissolute collie.  As it turns out, that is just about what a coyote is; and no one saw it more clearly than Mark Twain. The author’s description of a coyote went like this: 'The coyote is a long, slim, sick and sorry-looking skeleton with a grey wolf skin stretched over it…he is a living, breathing allegory of want. Who could resist such an enchanting creature?’"