Category Archives: Reviews

Ben Lewin’s “The Sessions” – A frank foray into human sexuality

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Poster for "The Sessions"

Following a bout of childhood polio, Mark O’Brien (John Hawkes) lived his life alternating between a gurney and an iron lung. Minus a brief and terrifying stint on a motorized, mirror-laden contraption, he depended on others at all times for physical movement, and yet accomplished a great deal. He earned an English degree from UC Berkeley and became a journalist, activist, and poet. And through this poetry came the rather obvious truth that even someone with such a severe disability can still live a rich emotional and intellectual life. Such is the inspiring, eloquent, and entirely likable personage that we meet at the outset of The Sessions. Which makes it ever more interesting that this film glosses over all of the above in the first five minutes and focuses instead on O’Brien’s thirtysomething quest to lose his virginity with the assistance of a sexual surrogate named Cheryl (Helen Hunt).

The real-life O’Brien (who passed away in 1999) once admonished others not to call him courageous. “Saying a disabled person is courageous,” he declared, “is like saying that a black person has natural rhythm.” This film’s treatment of O’Brien’s life and pursuit of sexuality seems to take this lesson to heart. He exhibits courage, to be sure, but also embarrassment, shame, uncertainty, and terror, often mingled with wildly varying degrees of ecstasy. The film offers an incredibly true-to-life and universal exploration of one’s initial foray into sexuality, awkwardness and all. It uses O’Brien’s disability as a lens for his particular perspective rather than a facile and patronizing metaphor for the human condition, like so many lesser films on the subject.

Hawkes’ take on the character is simply marvelous, contrasting physical vulnerability with brazen and shameless honesty. There’s definitely more telling than showing with Hawkes’ character – with a screenplay based on O’Brien’s 1990 article, the film relies heavily on voiceover. And existing in a world of MPAA ratings, it also relies on O’Brien graphically recounting his unseen sessions with Cheryl after the fact, by way of conversations with the probably-fictitious Father Brendan (William H. Macy). Despite infusing O’Brien with a convincing measure of spirituality, the film doesn’t seem particularly interested in taking an in-depth look at the complex relationship between religion and sexuality. A late scene between Cheryl and a synagogue official had far more resonance in its discussion of the nervousness of young [naked] Jewish brides-to-be than any of the scenes between O’Brien and his priest. Hawkes and Macy make believable on-screen friends, but the Father’s religious cognitive dissonance really only played out on Macy’s face and never in the script itself. As amusing as it is to hear a priest suggest that Jesus Christ will give O’Brien “a free pass” for his plan, it all feels just a bit too tongue-in-cheek and cartoonish.

At various other points in the film, we see O’Brien recounting his sessions with his understandably curious friends and caregivers (including a nice turn by Moon Bloodgood), all of whom can identify on some level with what he is doing. Each of the scenes with Father Brendan could have been replaced by an equally frank conversation with just about any of his other acquaintances (or perhaps even Macy himself in another guise) and taken very little out of the film.

Still from "The Sessions"

Despite this significant structural problem, the film has a great number of impressive scenes between Hawkes and Hunt during the titular sessions. Cheryl, a married soccer mom in her private life, is quite a believable character. She has the air of an experienced practitioner, but has clearly never worked with such a severely disabled client. She gets visibly flustered as she starts to realize the full extent of O’Brien’s needs (after accidentally bending his fingers the wrong way!). And yet, her dictated notes reveal just how consummately professional she is, discussing O’Brien’s progress and feelings in practical and psychological terms even as her human compassion remains a factor. Her marriage is also fascinating, with a husband (Adam Arkin) who isn’t threatened by his wife having sex with her clients, but gets quite chafed when one of them mails her a heartfelt poem. Hunt’s brilliantly multifaceted performance as well as her evolving interactions with Hawkes quite effectively demonstrate all the negotiations and compromises that enter the mix with sex and emotion. By the time the two are able to converse comfortably despite being two naked near-strangers in bed, it becomes clear just how adaptable human interaction can be.

In fact, the film’s examination of sexual surrogacy offers a curious counterpoint to the debate over the legal status of prostitution. Legally speaking, Cheryl is definitely in the world’s oldest profession, and yet the film goes out of the way to point out the myriad differences between herself and a conventional lady of the evening. She isn’t interested in repeat business- in fact, a self-imposed guideline prohibits it beyond a specific number of sessions. All she is interested in is helping her clients discover their preferences, limitations, and capabilities, using her own body to guide the position, performance, and sensation of the client’s body. In this sense, she fits into a role none-too-dissimilar from a physical or speech therapist. While most people can work out these personal factors with a romantic partner (whether or not they ever try to), it does seem a bit naive to assume that everyone is capable of doing so. On the other hand, we’re certainly seeing the best possible version of sexual surrogacy in this film, and the profession as a whole seems rife for potential abuse, both of its patients and practitioners.

But the fact that the film is willing to provoke these questions is certainly its greatest strength. In a world of slutshaming, date rape, sex trafficking, death penalties for homosexuality, and ecstasy laced with Viagra, it’s easy to forget that sex is not the dark, shameful, and scandalous thing that it so often seems. It is the one thing that binds us all together. We all have attitudes and morals, preferences and predilections. We all have a relationship with sex, regardless of how that relationship is expressed. And in the case of individuals like Mark O’Brien, that relationship was only limited by what his body was physically capable of expressing. The mind – and penis – were as willing as ever. This depiction, however close or divergent it might be from real life, manages to tackle a serious subject with a great deal of levity and humanity. Per his wishes, I won’t call O’Brien courageous. But The Sessions certainly tries to be.

FilmWonk rating: 7 out of 10

FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #28 – “The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2” (dir. Bill Condon)

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This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel are joined by returning guest/fiancee Sarah, who will help weigh in on the final chapter of the glorious Twilight Saga. Will love conquer all? Will a werewolf win the capricious heart of a newborn child? Will Michael Sheen once again prove that he best understands what sort of movie he’s in? Listen below and find out! (48:07)

May contain some NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 4/10 (but we actually rather enjoyed it!), 6/10 (Sarah)

Show notes:

  • We had an issue with the audio quality in this episode – it was recorded near a computer whose fan was a bit loud. It sounded quiet when we were recording in person, but was picked up significantly due to the placement and angle of the microphone. I’ve applied several noise filters that have eliminated most of the sound, but it will still be faintly audible throughout the episode. Sorry for the issue, and enjoy the show!
  • Music for this episode is Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years“, from the soundtrack to Breaking Dawn: Part 1 (another version appears in the soundtrack to this film).
  • Read the review in which I first became a Kristen Stewart apologist – also the first review ever on this blog! (Adventureland)
  • For my only other word on Twilight, you can also check out my review of Chris Weitz‘ New Moon.

Listen above, or download: The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn – Part 2 (right-click, save as, or click/tap to play on a non-flash browser).

Quick double review: Julia Loktev’s “The Loneliest Planet”

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Poster for "The Loneliest Planet"

Daniel and I recently saw the new film from writer/director Julie Loktev, The Loneliest Planet. The film features an engaged couple, Alex (Gael García Bernal) and Nica (Hani Furstenberg), who are backpacking through the Caucasus Mountains, when something significant and spoilery happens, that Changes Everything™. What follows are our unfiltered thoughts on the film.

Daniel:
The Loneliest Planet is described as a thriller, which is about the biggest bunch of crap I have ever heard. This meandering, pointless tale about two uninteresting travelers is not only grating to the audience; it’s insulting. Long, directionless shots of repetitive Georgian landscapes are coupled with minimal dialogue, next to zero context, and horrendously boring characters. The big event which “changes everything ” was actually a laugh moment. Instead of exploring what this means for the couple, we get more walking (now with body language cues!) and one of the longest most irritating scenes I can remember (featuring a campfire song). Minimalism can certainly work for you, but you need some dialogue, subtitles if other languages are present (the tour guide is difficult to understand-not that it mattered), and character development to tell a story. At the end this is a 5-10 minute short that is elongated to a maddening length. Avoid.

Glenn:
My esteemed colleague detested this film only slightly more than I did. I will grant that idea of a couple’s relationship quietly breaking down thanks to a single, horrendous misstep is a fascinating one. I will even grant that depicting this encroaching gulf between them with minimal dialogue, particularly in the presence of a total stranger on vacation, also seems realistic. Anyone who has been to an uncomfortably silent dinner engagement between a pair of estranged hosts can certainly testify to this. The problem with this film is that we’re given next to no information about these characters. We don’t know who they are, how long they’ve been together, why they’re on this trip, or most importantly, what they mean to each other. They might have dated for years, or met last week in El Salvador (one of the many places Nica brags about visiting) – and knowing just a bit of this information might have provided a bit more perspective for “the big event”. While there are a few scenes that give us a modicum of backstory for these characters, they tended to be overlong in all the wrong ways. An early scene of unsubtitled dialogue with some Georgian villagers goes on for nearly a full minute past the point of telling us that A, these characters don’t speak the language, and B, they’re adventurous enough to be okay with this.

And that’s really the most frequent vice this film indulges in. It uses a rich tapestry of cinematography to show the couple (and their guide) trudging across the gorgeous mountain landscape, but each of these shots lasts longer than it needs to (even after I had finished studying every detail of the frame as I would a painting), and utilizes a score that comes off as increasingly repetitive – much like the landscape itself. In the end, the film doesn’t reveal much about relationships in general, because it reveals next to nothing about the relationship at its center. There is a skeleton of a character study here (with a decent performance from Furstenberg at the heart of it), but it is wrapped up in such a meager helping of character, dialogue, or story, that the resulting work comes off as hollow, insubstantial, and utterly boring.

FilmWonk rating: 2 out of 10

FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #27 – “Cloud Atlas” (dir. The Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer)

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Poster for "Cloud Atlas"

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel explore the sprawling epic from Tom Tykwer and The Wachowskis, Cloud Atlas, based on the novel by David Mitchell. And while everything might be connected, only one of us connected with this film – tune in below to find out why! (55:03)

May contain some NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 9/10 (Glenn), 4/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

  • The sequences in Cloud Atlas are named and directed as follows:

    • The Pacific Journal of Adam Ewing (Directed by Andy and Lana Wachowski)

    • Letters from Zedelghem (Directed by Tom Tykwer)

    • Half-Lives: The First Luisa Rey Mystery (Directed by Tom Tykwer)

    • The Ghastly Ordeal of Timothy Cavendish (Directed by Tom Tykwer)

    • An Orison of Sonmi-451 (Directed by Andy and Lana Wachowski)

    • Sloosha’s Crossin’ an’ Ev’rythin’ After (Directed by Andy and Lana Wachowski)

  • CORRECTION: I mistakenly stated that The Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer were directors of photography on this film – they were not. The film’s cinematographers were Frank Griebe (who likely worked with Tom Tykwer, based on his filmography) and John Toll.

  • Music for this episode comes from the film’s magnificent, sprawling score, written by director Tykwer, Johnny Klimek, Reinhold Heil, with assistance from Gene Pritsker and Gabriel Mournsey on various tracks.

Listen above, or download: Cloud Atlas (right-click, save as, or click/tap to play on a non-flash browser).

Martin McDonagh’s “Seven Psychopaths” – Cute and hilarious.

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Poster for "Seven Psychopaths"

I know what you’re thinking. This film is about a culturally satisfying number of psychopaths. It’s from Martin McDonagh, the bloody-minded, utterly un-PC writer/director of In Bruges (as well as The Lieutenant of Inishmore, which is, to this day, the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen on a stage). How can it possibly be “cute”? Well I’ll tell you, dear reader. The main character is a drunken Irish screenwriter named Martin (Colin Farrell), who is attempting to write a screenplay for a film called Seven Psychopaths. The very same film we’re presently watching, in fact. The film cuts back and forth between his beautifully imaginative psychopathic origin vignettes and the “real world”, along with occasional revelations that some of his psychopaths are in the actual story of the film we’re watching. Maybe. It’s wonderfully unclear.

Seven Psychopaths seizes on the fundamental truth of storytelling that no idea is completely original. You may think it came from a serendipitous muse that squirted it into your brain from the collective unconscious, but we are the inexorable products of our surroundings, our culture, and most importantly, our stories. Stories we’ve been told, stories we’ve forgotten, and stories we’ve subsequently retold and passed off as our own work. This is a bloody-minded Adaptation. Hugo without the whimsy. It is sickeningly self-aware, and could have felt like a lesser parody of either of those films if not for such a perfect ensemble cast.

Sam Rockwell plays Billy Bickle, professional dognapper. When Bickle’s partner, Hans (Christopher Walken), accidentally steals a Shih Tzu owned by mobster Charlie Costello (Woody Harrelson), the two are forced to scramble to stay alive as Costello ruthlessly seeks out his purloined puppy. While Walken and Harrelson are perfectly cast, the absolute standout is Sam Rockwell, who plays the rather obviously-named Bickle as a relentlessly delightful sociopath. His every interaction with Farrell is pitch-perfect, even as he interrupts each fresh outrage to question whether his screenwriting friend might have a drinking problem. The film also features a solid supporting ensemble, including Zeljko Ivanek and Kevin Corrigan, as well as an outstanding turn by Tom Waits, who manages to turn the simple act of petting a bunny into something wondrously terrifying.

You might notice I haven’t mentioned any ladies yet, and there are several in the film. Abbie Cornish, Olga Kurylenko, and Gabourey Sidibe each have small parts, and they do decent work with what little they’re given. Newcomer Linda Bright Clay is especially strong as Hans’ wife. But this is where the film’s veneer of self-awareness starts to crack a bit. Can a screenplay that’s chock full of crappy, one-note, brutally treated female characters redeem itself by having one of its myriad gentlemen point it out in the third act? My general response would be ‘no’, but Farrell’s hilariously weak defense that “it’s a tough world for women”, and Walken’s wry retort that despite that, most of the ladies he knows “can string a fucking sentence together” completely saved it.

Still from "Seven Psychopaths"

In fact, when the last act of the film drops any pretense of real-world story and has the entire ensemble vigorously debating how the movie should end, it somehow manages to hit every note perfectly. Its self-awareness becomes incredibly endearing, even as it debates precisely what kind of shootout should bookend the story. The film’s most honest moments emerge from this sequence, as Marty questions whether he even wants to write this kind of story anymore. Psychopaths might be a fun idea with which to frame a story, but they do get a bit fucking tiresome when you have to write so many of them.

But whether he wants to keep writing this kind of story or not, McDonagh still seems to be having a great deal of fun with the material. His Irish characters still border on caricature, his racist humor reaches Tarantinoan levels of superfluousness, and his odd fascination with the Vietnamese continues. His creations are born in a world of cartoonish excess, and die with as much frenetic and hilarious bloodlust as the script can muster – unless of course he changes his mind before the film ends. But in a film like Seven Psychopaths, mind-changing is an integral part of the narrative. The film conceives of a great many brilliant characters, then dispenses with any necessity to actually put them into the story. Some might regard this as a cheat, but I simply saw it as a laundry list of possibilities. When Martin McDonagh plays in his sandbox, this is the unholy ensemble that emerges. And as hilariously overdone as it might be, it still felt as fresh and effective as ever.

FilmWonk rating: 8 out of 10

FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #26 – “The Master” (dir. Paul Thomas Anderson)

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Poster for "The Master"

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel purge their inner demons reviewing Paul Thomas Anderson’s new film, The Master, starring Joaquin Phoenix, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Adams, and Laura Dern (25:33).

May contain some NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 6/10

Show notes:

  • Music for this episode is Ella Fitzgerald singing “Get Thee Behind Me Satan“, from the soundtrack to The Master.
  • Check out my review of Rian Johnson’s Looper here.

Listen above, or download: The Master (right-click, save as, or click/tap to play on a non-flash browser).

Rian Johnson’s “Looper” – An audacious temporal thriller

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Rian Johnson’s Looper may be the closest thing to a perfect time travel paradox since the Terminator franchise. Once again, meddlers from the future are changing the past, using their perfect foreknowledge to make things better for themselves. If they want to make someone disappear, they don’t just murder them and destroy the body- they zap the target back in time to be killed by assassins in the present day (in this case, 2044), called loopers. The problem arises when looper Joe (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is presented with having to murder his own future self (Bruce Willis). Joe the Elder escapes from his younger self and strikes out on a mission of his own, to preserve his life in the future.

This outlandish premise works for two reasons. First, the world-building for both time periods is extremely effective. 2044 is a grim, dark, crime-ridden place, and 2074 seems perhaps even more so, just a bit cleaner (especially if you go to China, which is obviously an economic powerhouse). Both periods feel very lived-in despite their obvious budgetary constraints.

Second, the film sets up a clever time travel mechanic wherein Future Joe – whose mere presence is altering his own timeline – doesn’t know the outcome of every situation involving his younger self, but he does remember it once it happens. It’s an action-oriented version of Marty McFly fading away from a photograph, and the film explains it with just the right amount of technobabble and disturbing imagery, punctuated by Willis telling his younger self (and perhaps the logic centers of the audience’s brains) to kindly shut the fuck up and stop wasting time slogging through the murky waters of time travel.

This bit of hand waving makes for an extremely haunting and effective ending, as we’re left to consider the full and lasting impact of Future Joe’s presence in this timeline. Looper dares to present us with high personal stakes for both versions of its protagonist, set them in opposition to each other, then force us to consider whether the future of this despicable person should be saved. It’s a theme that has been touched upon before (Doctor Who’s The Girl Who Waited comes to mind), but never with such a thoroughly unsympathetic protagonist. It’s a bold choice, and it definitely pays off.

Gordon-Levitt’s performance is unsettling, to say the least. His face is nearly unrecognizable in its attempt to resemble Willis- so much so that I suspected some kind of digital alteration, but after watching the film, the illusion is surprisingly convincing. When Gordon-Levitt is telling his older self to “do what old men do and die”, I could almost shut my eyes and imagine Willis delivering the line. Much of this is due to Gordon-Levitt’s physicality and voice work. But the physical alterations (whether digital or cosmetic) went from being a slight and deliberate distraction to an effective filter for the audience to forget at least one famous face and think of these two men as one and the same. And for the record, I never would have guessed this from the trailer.

Along the way we meet Sara (Emily Blunt) and her possibly-adoptive son Cid (Pierce Gagnon), whose farm becomes the central setpiece for the film’s final act. The film takes a bit of a turn with the introduction of this odd little family. Cid is an alarmingly precocious child, and not in a grating, Short-Round sort of way. In fact, Cid’s intelligence and command of the situation is intimidating to characters and audience alike. To put it mildly, there’s something off about this boy. While it would spoil much of the film’s climax to reveal his precise role, it’s safe to say that his effectiveness hinges on a brilliant performance from this child actor.

The only weak link is Blunt’s character. Much of the film’s ending hinges on her intrinsic good nature, and we get very little evidence of it apart from her own word on what a good mom she is. The best explanation I could muster for the obligatory love scene was “Why not?” Sara’s baffling seduction of Joe could be readily explained by the loneliness of a rural, single mom, but it seems a bit far-fetched given his status as a murderous drifter – which she seems fully aware of from the moment they meet.

Despite this issue, Rian Johnson has crafted a smart and effective thriller with well-drawn characters and a novel take on time travel. During his grand hiatus of TV directing since The Brothers Bloom, I’ve had time to forget just how effective his dialogue can be. Every exchange in this film is multifaceted enough that it will surely benefit from repeat viewings. The relationship between mob boss Abe (Jeff Daniels) and young buck Kid Blue (Noah Segan) – who may in fact be the same person – is certainly worth another look.

FilmWonk rating: 8/10

FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #25 – “The Expendables 2” (dir. Simon West)

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Poster for "The Expendables 2"

On our two-year anniversary show, we go back to the well and review the sequel to our very first podcast subject, The Expendables 2! Can the acting stylings of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Randy Couture impress us a second time? Find out below! (31:33)

May contain some NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 6.5/10

Show notes:

  • Music for this episode comes from the score to the The Expendables by Brian Tyler.
  • The director of photography for this film is Shelly Johnson.
  • We referred to this rumor from back in January, which stated that the film had been edited down to be PG-13 in order to secure the participation of Chuck Norris. According to director Simon West last week, that rumor was never true.
  • Nope, it appears Jean-Claude Van Damme has never ripped anyone’s heart out on film. But he has done this…
  • If you absolutely must see a heart-rip, here’s the dude from Temple of Doom. Or here’s Jim Carrey.
  • Correction: Our first podcast was in August 2010, making this our two-year anniversary show!

Listen above, or download: The Expendables 2 (right-click, save as, or click/tap to play on a non-flash browser).

FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #24 – “The Dark Knight Rises” (dir. Christopher Nolan)

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Poster for "The Dark Knight Rises"

This week, Glenn, Daniel, and special guest James Quinn discuss the epic final chapter of Christopher Nolan‘s Batman trilogy, The Dark Knight Rises (54:32).

May contain some NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 7/10 (Glenn/Daniel), 6/10 (James)

Show notes:

  • Spoilers begin after the warning (15:52).
  • Music for this episode comes from Hans Zimmer‘s original score to The Dark Knight Rises, including the tracks “Despair” and “Rise”.
  • Special thanks to James for contributing to this episode! Find out about his new sci-fi web series (in which Glenn plays a bear-alien named Uzor) at MasterOfOrionSeries.com.
  • I resisted the temptation to read this before we recorded, but here’s an excellent rundown from the folks at /Film of everything that bothered them about the film. We touched on several of these points, but there are a couple that I flat-out disagree with (most notably a major scene between Bruce and Alfred, which I thought was brilliantly written and acted). But if there’s one thing this film valuably inspires, it’s diversity of opinion, at least in terms of which storytelling issues people hate the most, so it’s well worth reading.
  • Also worth reading: Christopher Nolan’s eloquent farewell to the Batman franchise.
  • CORRECTION: I incorrectly stated that Guillermo Del Toro’s upcoming film, Pacific Rim, is “an adaptation of something” – it is an original work (albeit an obvious homage to Japanese monster films). Either way, we’re stoked.

Listen above, or download: The Dark Knight Rises (right-click, save as, or click/tap to play on a non-flash browser).

SIFF Review: Wes Anderson’s “Moonrise Kingdom” – A triumphant, romantic caper

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Poster for "Moonrise Kingdom"

If I were to categorize Wes Anderson, I would place him in a similar camp to Tim Burton. They both have a distinct and instantly recognizable vision for the bizarre worlds in which their films take place, and they both tend to work with an abundance of the same actors. But while Burton’s recent contributions have been marked by a nearly linear decline in quality and coherence, Anderson’s films have taken a far more regrettable route… They have become utterly forgettable. While I have seen [and modestly enjoyed] every one of Wes Anderson’s films since Rushmore, I can scarcely recall a single moment from any of them since 2001’s The Royal Tenenbaums. While Anderson’s quirk and theatricality has remained as distinctive as ever, his overall vision has somehow become completely unremarkable.

Until now.

Moonrise Kingdom is a triumphant return to form for Anderson (along with co-writer Roman Coppola), meticulously crafting a rich and memorable world in the fictitious island of New Penzance off the Atlantic Coast. The story kicks right into gear as a young Khaki Scout, Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman) leaves a hand-scrawled letter of resignation in his jamboree tent and strikes off into the wilderness in a purloined canoe. At the very same moment, his preteen sweetheart Suzy Bishop (Kara Hayward) runs away from home on the other end of the island, leaving her parents, Walt (Bill Murray) and Laura (Frances McDormand), at a loss to explain her disappearance. An immediate search begins as both the local police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis) and Khaki Scout Master Randy Ward (Edward Norton) both rally their respective posses to search for the wayward couple.

The film takes a bit of time to find its footing, owing to the bizarrely precocious dialogue of its young, first-time leads. Their initial line readings have an almost wooden theatricality, with drawn-out banter so improbably delivered that it seems like Shakespeare in the Park as read from a teleprompter. But as their chaste and cordial romp gets into full swing, the two actors somehow find an accord. They become a fascinating romantic screen presence, even as the overall plot starts to take on a flavor none-too-dissimilar from the first Rambo film. An early “showdown” ensues between the young couple atop a hillside and some unrelenting Scouts who have happened upon them. Without grownup supervision, the Scouts are tenacious in their pursuit, armed with absurdly dangerous homemade melee weapons, an archery kit, and a lead Scout primed to charge the young lovers on his dirt bike. It’s all a great deal of fun, but the romance starts to make a bit more sense when viewed through this adversarial lens. These kids are determined to skip ahead to grownup life, bidding farewell to their erstwhile families and making a life for themselves in the wilderness. They are the embodiment of “us against the world”, even if their oppressive world is like something from the mind of Roald Dahl or J.K. Rowling.

Still from "Moonrise Kingdom"

In fact, the entire cast plays the film remarkably straight, even as the stakes continue to ramp absurdly upward. An on-screen narrator (Bob Balaban) informs us that a hurricane will strike in three days’ time. In fact, he tells us that this has already happened. By playing the entire film as a historical document, the various perils that befall the characters take on a tense fatalism. As the film goes on, any time a character steps onto a boat or seaplane feels like it might be the last time they’ll ever been seen alive. In this way, Moonrise evokes another much more adult film – Shutter Island. While Suzy will simply be returned to her parents if caught, Sam faces potentially greater peril, as it is revealed early on that he lives in a foster home that will not be welcoming him back, due to his unspecified “emotional problems”. The specter of Social Services (embodied by a hilariously dry Tilda Swinton) hangs over the proceedings at all times, along with all the potential horror of 1960s psychiatric practices. If Sam manages to survive his adventure, his life will get irrevocably worse.

Slightly less interesting are the marital problems of Suzy’s parents. Murray and McDormand are amusing together – a pair of attorneys who sleep in separate beds and speak of little else but their cases – but Murray and Willis, both rivals for the lady’s affections, are the real standouts. They each give their best comedic performances in years, engaging in a relentless duel of nonchalance and quiet resignation. Edward Norton is also brilliantly straight-laced, although the film seems to run out of practical use for him by the final act (not counting a bizarre stunt with Harvey Keitel). Given that Willis’ arc is probably the most underdeveloped in the film, it almost seems like the ending of Norton’s storyline was chopped and given to Willis instead. It was an odd choice, but it did feel just barely earned, as the film gives each character just enough setup to justify their final choices. Except, perhaps, for Jason Schwartzmann, who shows up just long enough to be awesome and underused as Cousin Ben, the obligatory helpful rogue. As an Anderson vet, Schwartzmann is so well-equipped to handle this material that I couldn’t help but want a bit more of him.

This would seem to be as far down the quirky path as Wes Anderson can delve without diminishing returns. Not everything in this film worked – as much as I was enjoying the meticulous opening cinematography of the Bishop home, I found myself rolling my eyes at its more superfluous elements, including Frances McDormand’s rather grating use of a megaphone to call for her children. But once the story got started, I was completely swept up in it. There is so much in this film that I’ll fondly recall, from the ridiculously tall treehouse to the Terabithian splendor of the titular Kingdom. This film is a sweet and nostalgic chronicle of the wondrous worlds that we create in childhood, and even manages to delve into the dire consequences of growing up, without ever losing a bit of its charm.

FilmWonk rating: 8 out of 10