Surreelfilm

Director Nanette Berstein (On the Ropes, The Kids Stay in the Picture) has said that she consciously widdled the film down to its four primary subjects not only for the broad-appeal archetypes that they represent, but because she felt that each individual had a well-defined purpose and an often painful inner-motivation that also rendered them timelessly relatable. Hannah is fighting a history of depression in her family while trying to escape from a town that desperately wants to hold onto her. Colin has had the unbearable pressure placed upon him of either playing well enough to earn a basketball scholarship or joining the military. Jake is fighting to find a girlfriend who understands him while also trying to vanquish the label of "loser" placed upon him from early on. And finally, Megan is a domineering bitch as a means of compensating for the suppressed guilt of her sister's suicide and her family's sky-high academic expectations of her. Despite the fact that each of these stories makes for compelling drama, one of the reasons that they fit into such concise descriptions is that they can feel a little bit forced. More often than not, each scenario is played out in an excessively literal fashion, leaving little room for nuance. This is especially the case with Jake, as no human being on Earth could be half as awkward as he is portrayed in this film. Also, the framing often leaves certain realities either distorted or completely omitted. Has Colin's father really never heard of student loans? Jake just flies out to San Diego to meet his older brother for a night of Tijiuna debauchery on a mere whim?

In general, although well done, the cinematography tends to add to this staged feel. Burstein didn't shoot this in a detached, documentarian style. She thought about staging and made the camera work dynamic, but unfortunatly it tends to detract from the sense of reality. Also, despite the fact the Burstein has denied all acusations of scripting, some of the conveniences are hard to let go. The cameras were set up and ready to go at the perfect opportunity to catch Hannah's moment of extreme anguish from being dumped by her boyfriend, manage to be present for both sides of a phone conversation between Jake's hopelessly miserable girlfriend and her outgoing "cool-guy" new crush, and present for an excessive number of people as they all receive emails and texts containing a naked picture of one of their female peers. The film also uses a series of animation sequences to represents individuals' dreams when they are expressing fantasies, aspirations, and even nightmares to themselves. Overall, these animations are a mixed bag, and distributed a bit unevenly throughout the film. Each person has a unique animation style to fit their own personality. Colin's description of his eventual rise from highschool star to NBA baller was flashy and entertaining, while Hannah's fall into self-loathing nightmare was sutiably disturbing, but a bit over-cooked. Jake likes to place himself in the shoes of hero Link from his Legend of Zelda videogame, but what begins as fresh and surprising ends up as annoying and overused.

Despite the blemishes and over-simplifications, there are also moments of clarity and undeniable relatability that are impossible to fake, and dripping with the careful nuance found lacking elsewhere. Late in the film Hannah finds herself in a unexpected relationship with "popular dude" Mitch. Despite the fact that the two have undeniable chemistry, and that Mitch especially clearly finds the relationship liberating, the fling is prematurely snuffed out by incompatible social circles and enforced behavioral norms. Also, there is a brief inteview with the afforementioned "nude-picture girl" which portrays a young women so utterly defeated by a vicious bout of 21st century character assasination that it's impossible not to feel mortified for her. And finally, in one of the most beutifully underplayed jokes I've ever seen, Jake spins his prom date to the audience as being a girl he had a fling with at a family wedding who happens to fly in to see him, while it's magnificiently apparent that his parents felt so bad that he couldn't find a date at his own school that they offered to fly in some twenty-something friend of the family who they probably asked to come as a favor. It's moments like that where the movie really breaks through the uncomfortable reality-TV barrier to feel like real life.

I went into American Teen and got exactly what I expected, but something just didn't feel right. There are identifiable elements to the documentary that are a bit distracting, but in the end it's undeniable that the drama and happenings found within are instantly identifiable as the quintessential high school experience, and the culture and lifestyle of Warsaw, Indiana is perfect microcasm of middle-American society in general. In the end, it's almost like a documentary version of the uncanny valley. For those scratching their heads, the uncanny valley is the notion that when robots or other representaions (i.e. CGI) reach a state of human likeness that is close but not perfect, that it creates a sense of revulsion among human observers. (See Robert Zemeckis's Beowulf.) American Teen is a perfect anthropological study of a young society inbreed with a healthy sense of melodrama and angst, which is constantly seeking to overcome seeminly life-or-death obstacles and stresses, both real and imagined, and yet still vitally human. It's just a little bit harder to swallow when that society is your own.

See here for a great interview with Nanette Burstein on making American Teen.

(foreground) Megan, (left to right) Hannah, Mitch, Luke, and Colin

Slumdog Millionaire -- Variety /film first showing
Flash of Genius -- /film
Happy-Go-Lucky -- /film
O'Horton -- first showing
Flame and Citron -- first showing

CLARIFICATION: The dude at the end of the trailer is not me and has nothing to do with this blog.

Friends Anthony and Dignan, played by brothers Luke and Owen Wilson respectively, serve as the central characters of the film, while third friend Bob exists on the periphery of their three-man “team”. Anthony is a twenty-something who checked himself into a mental facility upon the realization that he was completely miserable with the state of his life and utterly hopeless. His character is recovering gradually from his bout with depression, but is actually a closet idealist, as illustrated by his love-at-first-sight affection for Inez, the Paraguayan maid of a hotel where the three stay. Dignan is a fundamentally insecure guy who is prone to jealousy and covers up for it by being extremely energetic and over-the-top. He desperately wants to be the mastermind of the group, but his ridiculous schemes hold nothing but empty promises that usually end up fucking things up for one or more of the participants. Bob has been beat up and degraded by his older brother, played by Andrew Wilson, for his entire life and desperately wants to be a member of the group, but his paranoia leads him to suspect the other two of wanting to cut him out of the deal at any given opportunity. His is drafted as the group’s getaway driver, as he is the only one that owns a car.

The themes of Bottle Rocket are largely consistent with the hallmarks of Wes Anderson’s works, but with a few key differences. While the main characters are all damaged and fragile in their own way, the film lacks the sense of tragedy displayed in many of Anderson’s other films. However, sympathy for the characters is by no means diminished, as the woes that befall them are ultimately much more grounded than the extreme absurdity of later efforts like The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. Of course, that’s not to say that the plot doesn’t have it’s moments of delightful absurdity. As to the film’s sense of humor, Anderson’s use of understatement is masterfully intact. In one the opening sequences Luke Wilson explains to a sorority-type girl the powerful motivations and realizations that lead him to seek professional help, only for her to respond, “you’re really complicated aren’t you?” He replies, “I try not to be.” One other thematic constant of Anderson’s films that makes an appearance is the respected middle-aged male who turns out to be a complete fraud. Here the character is James Caan’s Mr Henry, who is the owner of the lawn and landscaping service that serves as the cover for the criminal organization from which Dignan draws all of his inspiration. Interestingly, one Anderson staple missing from this story is the prevalence of smoking, and an escapist embrace of drug use.

In terms of the cinematography and production style employed in Bottle Rocket, it’s much the same story in that many of the established Anderson elements are present, but not all. Anderson’s pension for unique staging was prevalent from the first scene, and he utilizes close-ups and quick cuts throughout the film in order to create a playful and dynamic rhythm to all of the sequences. This sense of rhythm and style is further buoyed by Anderson’s oddball music selection, which is just a sharp here as ever. Missing is the vivid pastel color palette of his later work, but this can be most easily explained by a comparatively small budget. However, fear not, as the use of Futura Bold font for all credits is present and accounted for. (sigh of relief)

Bottle Rocket is a refreshing look back to the Wes Anderson of yesteryear, and a satisfyingly entertaining romp to boot. Many critics of Anderson have felt that his films have become progressively more bizarre since Rushmore, and that his characters have become less and less relatable. While this criticism is probably fair, I have continued to be a fan of his work through last year’s Darjeeling Limited, and will continue to be until some point in the future when he actually goes fucking crazy. And even then I’ll probably still give him a chance. Bottle Rocket is not only Anderson at his most unfiltered, but perhaps his most human as well, and is therefore an easy recommendation to any fan of quality cinema.