Moonrise Kingdom

12a

2012

Director Wes Anderson

There is something indefinably camp about the films of Wes Anderson. Featuring the familiarly bright pastel shades of a depressing colouring book, the eccentric adolescents of much less annoying version of Skins, middle-class ennui right out of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s pampered playbook, and enough irritating human misery to make even The Catcher in the Rye’s chief prick Holden Caulfield roll his eyes, Moonrise Kingdom is another chapter in the director’s ever-growing catalogue of effeminate and fantastical realism.

New England, 1965. Khaki Scout and orphan Sam (Jared Gilman) and his equally confused girlfriend Suzy (Kara Hayward) run away together, hotly pursued by the eclectic pairing of Scout Master Ward (Edward Norton) and local Sheriff Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis).

Moonrise Kingdom is not vintage Anderson. It is new Anderson. The high watermark for the distinctive director remains the honour of 2001’s family saga The Royal Tenenbaums. Moonrise Kingdom is a different kind of mumbling, quirky, bespectacled Anderson(ian?) animal to this, or even to similar Tenenbaum(ian?) projects like Rushmore (1998) and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004). Yes, it retains the eccentric tone of his earlier work, but the fairy tale aspect has been cranked all the way up to infinity and beyond. That isn’t to say that Rushmore, Tenenbaums etc. were without the whimsical qualities of Grimm - no Anderson yarn is truly free of it - but Moonrise Kingdom is as close to a contemporary human fable as one is likely to find. The small island setting, the little house on the hill, the runaway children in the forest, a wicked witch (well, a great Tilda Swinton anyway), and the big, bad scary storm; it would not have been a total surprise for Mr. Fox to amble into the frame at any point to discuss his existential musings. Bob Balaban’s local Narrator functions as an unofficial storyteller in this world of cinematic, cartoonish colour. Note the clothing of the characters: bright and uniformed. The action (the climatic church rooftop sequence for example) appears more suited to the similarly animated stylings of one Tim Burton. Moonrise Kingdom is a perfect example of what Anderson does best, telling an intelligent, serious story through the wide, ridiculous and imaginative eyes of a child.

There are flaws. Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward are not the most likable of leads. That isn’t necessarily their fault. When have any of Anderson’s characters ever been likeable? They are miserable, unsmiling, and spoilt (in Suzy’s case) youths who, because of their age and inexperience, are simply less fun to be in the company of than, say, Norton’s regimental Scout Leader or Bill Murray’s shoe-throwing father.

It’s enjoyable watching where Anderson is going. His films began as weird yet wonderful, biting, and just a little bit nasty, but have gradually tumbled down the slopes of childhood. Moonrise Kingdom encapsulates this tonal shift perfectly. It’s nowhere near as funny as his earlier works - it’s not funny at all really - but it has a much fleshier, far sweeter heart. Like Pixar with swearing, Moonrise Kingdom knows that human tales deserve to be told, but understands that often children are the best storytellers of all.

*** ¾ / *****