There are many things to be said about the genre of family dramedy: it can bring you to tears (Terms of Endearment), it can bring you to smile (Little Miss Sunshine), or it can bring you to gasp (Running With Scissors). Never have I experienced a movie that did all three. Such is the power of Wes Anderson's ravishing, highly stylized film about a family of very smart, and very insecure, people.
In the beginning narrator Alec Baldwin (who never more wisely lent out his deadpan delivery) tells us of three extraordinary children: Chas (Ben Stiller), who was a financial wiz in his teens, Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow), an acclaimed playwright, and Richie (Luke Wilson), a three time world tennis champion. They are all different (Margot's adopted, Richie is the favorite, and Chas is really really uptight) but each is bound to the other by the simple fact they are all "fathered" by Royal Tenenbaum (Gene Hackman). Royal is a bad man, he was disbarred by his son for stealing bonds from him, he seperated from his wife Etheline (Angelica Huston) and children many years ago, causing all of them in their own way to desengrate, and he has lived in a hotel on credit for the past 22 years. On top of all of that he is selfish, unsentimental, and rude. One day he decides he needs to "reconnect" with his family so off he goes to live with them in a gigantic (yet at times strangely claustrophic) mansion. Such is the story of the beginning of the end for the Tenenbaum family, their friends, their spouses, their children, and all the other satillites that spin off of brilliance burning bright.
As envisioned by Wes Anderson, the world the family lives in is one that could almost be ours but is just slightly off. Take for example the taxis. Each one is run by Gypsy Cab Co. and each seems to manifest itself out of thin air right when needed. Indeed even the clothes are strange. Everyone parades around in matching track outfits, fur coats, heavy makeup, athletic headbands, and wrist scars from failed suicides. The sets are glorious and gloriously gaudy and the strength of Anderson's vision can be felt in every scene.
As written by Anderson and Owen Wilson (who also stars here as Eli Cash, an author of the lost-cowboy art) the movie is a droll piece of emotional high-wire. Every moment could have rung entirely too false, or smug. When Royal constantly reminds Margot of her adopted status in the movie it opens oppturnity for tragedy or comedy. They go for both, and suceed. The performances from such a wonderful cast are exquisite, isolated acts of strength and heart and every detail, down to the montage music, feels perfect. This picture is about times lost and love gained, about a world that never was but could have been, and about people who exist only in the so-ironic-it-isn't fable of Wes Anderson's making. Family, as the movie proves, isn't just a group of people, it is a world unto itself. A world filled with moments of utter sadness and reckless glee.
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