Here's my take on the film, filled with my typical film BS (no, really, a Film BS; it hangs on my wall back in Chattanooga). I'll say some things that I suppose count as spoilers, so be warned.
Wes Anderson's other films, in particular
Rushmore and
The Royal Tenenbaums, have a great sense of unity. They run a gamut of emotions and plumb the depths of their main characters. These characters experience things, learn from the experiences, blah blah blah... all of the things that Western narrative tradition asks for, Anderson delivered, in spades, with a style all his own, a sense of flair, nearly-too-much charm, and a healthy dose of offbeat humor.
What I loved most about those two films in particular were their closing shots: both the "Ooh-La-La" post-play dance and the "These Days" funeral carried with them a sense of summary. Every emotion felt in the course of
Tenenbaums, the longing of Royal to be loved by his family, the eventual acceptance, Richie's desire to be with his adopted sister, the humor Royal injected into every situation... all of these are felt in that last shot. The same goes for Max dancing with Miss Cross, with the other characters dancing or looking on in the background. For effect, Anderson slows these shots down, allowing us to take it all in, to re-experience the entire film and see all of the principle players one last time before he cuts to black.
The Life Aquatic ends in the same way, with all of the characters appearing before the camera to be seen in slow motion. And again, I can say that the shot captures every emotion I felt during the film. Bill Murray's blank expression says it all: emotionless.
Aquatic's characters don't have any transformations, they don't learn anything, they don't even really
do anything. It's alot of goofy play-acting for the camera with nothing keeping us interested, nothing investing us in the characters. When one of them dies, we don't really feel sad to see him go: we had no real attachment to him anyway.
Anderson's other films end and you feel that everything has been resolved, there are no loose ends. Here, though, things are a mess. "Zissou shoots blanks," we hear, and we're hoping to see where that takes things. Well, it never comes up again. One example of potentially many things that Anderson includes in one scene to give it an edge but seemingly forgets to follow through on. And don't misunderstand me: it doesn't feel like the artful "un-resolution" of, say, an Antonioni film. It just feels sloppy.
I tried to divorce myself from the idea that I need to expect something from the film because it is an Anderson movie (seeing as, in my eyes, each of his first three films improved upon the others, I wanted quite a bit), but it's damned near impossible to do that. Every frame exudes "Anderson." The centered compositions, the Anamorphic 40mm view of the world, the meticulous set design, the iconic presentation of the characters: all of these things serve as a constant reminder to anyone passingly familiar with his previous films that Anderson is still behind the wheel. But he seems to have fallen asleep, executing instinctively the motions he typically goes through while "making a movie," without actually driving all of that style with any sense of purpose.
Maybe I'm being unfair: I saw the film in a bad situation, in a theater packed full of young "hipsters" that were bound and determined to laugh riotously at anything they felt Anderson may have intended to be funny, lest someone discover that they didn't "get" the joke and find them unhip. I've heard others say they didn't find it funny but felt it worked at what it tried to do: something other than be funny. Under the circumstances, I felt like it must be trying to be funny, but I only laughed three times.
Granted, I loved alot about the film: the set, particualrly for the Belefonte, was inspired. Seu Jorge's Portuguese Bowie covers were amazing. But on the whole, it fell flat. Yet, I'm almost glad. All of the press for Anderson from his first three films was so universally glowing; the Lincoln Center crowd were making comparisons to Welles and Salinger: that's some pressure to have on your shoulders. Better, I think, that he learns that he's fallable early on, so he'll actually work at his future works. That's my hope anyway. His best work is just too good, and he too young, for him to keep doing this.
Will
You may like grandma's yard gnomes, but I've seen Rock City. Remember it.