It’s easy to be annoyed by Wes Anderson—and that’s just from seeing a picture of him. You might also look into his movies and then come down with a severe case of Quirky Character Poisoning. You’ve seen too many well-to-do headcases bickering with each other. You’ve seen too many 1970s Romper Room color schemes. You’ve heard too many 60s and 70s pop songs used as poignant underscores. You’ve spent too much time wishing that Bill Murray could get just one more great role as a smartass in the middle of all these sad sack parts that he plays these days. It’s not healthy.
Then, you see Anderson’s best work, such as The Royal Tenenbaums, and get a reminder that this white-suited dandy really is good.
Darn it, I want to hate him.
But I can’t hate a director who makes a movie as inspired as this, a screwball comedy (a genre with a tendency toward the foibles of the wealthy and eccentric) that bursts with ideas in every shot and that avoids easy tricks of making its characters likable. Its characters are mostly assholes, with Gene Hackman getting most of the laughs, as well as one of the best roles of his career, as the patriarch of a family of geniuses. He plays a man who always says too much and has no concept of shame. He’s an awful father and a great comic character. Hackman plays the part with beautiful abandon. Meanwhile, Anderson finds a sullen Carole Lombard in Gwyneth Paltrow and lets Ben Stiller be as obnoxious as I’ve always found him.
Anderson perfects his voice here. Yes, this film is Quirky City, but it’s full of fresh air and buzzes with witty details. It’s got a long life ahead of it.