reel critic

Allen MacDonald

With the release of “The Royal Tenenbaums,” director Wes Anderson has

once again created a truly unique world to inhabit his idiosyncratic

characters.

The Tenenbaums reside in a fable-like New York City, where not a

single recognizable landmark is within sight. Anderson remains very much

in touch with his inner-child. He possesses an uncanny ability to uncover

intimate moments between his characters by contrasting their forlorn

personalities with nostalgic pop music and brightly colored wardrobe and

production design. Every element acts as a musical instrument joining to

form a final, evocative composition.

The story revolves around an ostensibly dying Royal Tenenbaum (Gene

Hackman), as he attempts to reconcile with his archeologist wife Etheline

(Angelica Huston) and the three children he left behind 17 years earlier.

Royal is the kind of man whose charm inspires undeserved loyalty in those

who should know better. His self-serving ways blind him to the pain he

has inflicted. Royal’s children also happen to be former world-famous

child geniuses, who in adulthood are living proof that lights that burn

twice as bright, burn half as long. Each is bitter, listless and

desperate for connection. Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow), lives in paranoid

seclusion, spending her days soaking in the bath. Chas (Ben Stiller), a

former boy-wonder bank investor molds his two sons in his image. Richie

(Luke Wilson) wanders the globe, still recovering from his meltdown on

the court, televised live for the world.

Anderson is a master of characterizations, utilizing more than just

dialogue and action to peel away their various layers.

Like his two previous films, 1996’s “Bottle Rocket” and 1998’s

“Rushmore,” the comedy is rooted in pain. Anderson handles his characters

gently, never mocking or condescending. He makes the Tenenbaum family

completely human, with a underlying sense of hope and affirmation of

life.

“The Royal Tenenbaums” is a delightful viewing experience. Even when

it sometimes loses momentum or overextends its scope with too many

characters, it is the kind of film that instills hope that there are

still original filmmaking voices out there, just waiting to be heard.

* ALLEN MacDONALD, 28, is currently working toward his master’s degree

in screenwriting from the American Film Institute in Los Angeles.