This is NOT a review of Asteroid City, a film not yet undertaken by Yours truly and the poison pen of my computer keyboard.
This is a short discussion of the film's unique director, Wes Anderson, a man with a Canon of Quirk exceeded only by John Waters. What sort of mind assembles such emotion stirring contributions as Isle of Dogs and The Darjeeling Limited, but also gives us frustration on celluloid in The Royal Tennenbaums and The French Dispatch?
The difference between these two sets is the difference between the opposite ends of the Centigrade thermometer. One burns hot with the reach into the heart of the viewer. The other is an ice cold exasperation of disconnections. Is he a director with an In-Between?
Grand Budapest Hotel and Rushmore are testaments to storytelling without the bite. Excellent films with a different gestalt than Isle or Darjeeling. Fantastic Mr. Fox and Life Aquatic display technical brilliance along the lines of Tim Burton. Moonrise Kingdom and Bottle Rocket are adolescent coming of age films without a saccharine moment, but also without the sweetness of real sugar.
Wes Anderson is a man of stratified talent.
What to think of Asteroid City?
The reviews of Asteroid City are of the typically elusive Anderson fare. Some people will never understand his POV. Most might find him, at this stage of his career, quaint or tired. Find the latter to be an ongoing accusation ever since The Royal Tennenbaums released in 2001, a movie I did not care for at all, but, ironically, recognized its merits.
Am taking in Asteroid City this weekend.
More to come.