Friday, February 09, 2007

#65: Rushmore

Rushmore, 1998, directed by Wes Anderson, written by Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson.

Wes Anderson has the dubious honor of being perhaps the most polarizing director of his (and my) generation. This is not entirely his fault. Since Rushmore, he's served as a proxy target in cultural wars that were only marginally related to his work. To be fair, he brought the first of these on himself, by writing an article for the New York Times about screening Rushmore for Pauline Kael. Apparently Kael (being treated for Parkinson's at the time) was not too coherent. Apparently Anderson's article made this clearer than was probably polite. It seems that insulting someone who mentored an entire generation of film critics is not the best thing to do if you want your film reviewed kindly; David Edelstein's piece in Slate is a decent example of the resulting fallout. And Anderson also serves as a convenient target for people who don't like people who like movies by Wes Anderson. And they have a point. My roommate saw Rushmore for the first time sitting next to an insufferable prick who kept applauding at every other line. But neither of these experiences—repugnant as they may be—have that much to do with Anderson's films themselves.

And this isn't really the place to write an account of all of his work. Anderson has a deal of some sort with Criterion; everything but Bottle Rocket is available in a Criterion edition. So we'll get to the rest of it sooner or later. For now: Rushmore, Anderson's first foray into J.D. Salinger territory. Jason Schwartzman plays Max Fischer, Rushmore Academy's most enthusiastic and least focused student. One of the film's highlights is a brief montage of Max's extracurricular activities. These start with the prosaic:

And slowly devolve toward the bizarre:

Before ending up with the wholly fantastical:

The whole thing is over "Makin' Time," by The Creation. And there you have Wes Anderson's style in a nutshell: a great British invasion soundtrack, anamorphic wide-angle lenses to the point of absurdity (there's hardly a straight horizontal line in the film—check out the front row of language booths in the French Club shot), willfully obscure allusions, and FUTURA BOLD. Lots of FUTURA BOLD. Your response to that series of stills is a pretty good litmus test for how you'll feel about the rest of the movie. If you find them pretentious and dull, steer clear. If it seems a little twee but the visual style is intriguing, stay with it; it gets better from here. If the idea of making Model UN members wear country-appropriate hats, or firing off a shotgun in a school courtyard, or keeping bees at school struck you as amusing, you're going to love Rushmore. And if the shot of the Yankee Racers reminded you how much you love Jacques Henri Lartigue...

...then odds are you're Wes Anderson. Welcome! The movie traces a strange friendship between Max Fischer and depressed industrialist Herman Blume:

Blume is Bill Murray's best version of a character he's been playing again and again for the last eight or nine years (for that matter, Max is the best version of Jason Schwartzman's screen persona). You thought Murray was unhappy in Lost In Translation? Compared to Rushmore, he was ecstatic:

Sofia Coppola was right to have Murray's wife and kids only exist over the phone in Lost in Translation; her movie was about loneliness, not misery. But the single best decision Wes Anderson may have ever made was casting Ronnie and Keith McCawley as Ronnie and Donnie Blume, Herman's terrible sons. Here, they're locking him out of his car:

And one of them is responsible for his black eye in the earlier still. "Never in my wildest imagination did I dream I would have sons like these," Herman tells Max, quite credibly.

Max and Herman don't have much in common, but they fascinate each other. Max sees Blume as an emblem of triumph in the class wars. Max's secret shame is that he attends Rushmore on a scholarship. Like Charlie Brown, his father is a barber. Unlike Charlie Brown, he tells everyone that his father is a neurosurgeon. For his part, Herman sees Max as someone who hasn't yet lost his enthusiasm for the world around him (even if he's mostly enthusiastic about a fantasy world he's creating). Unfortunately, they both become enthusiastic about the same woman, a second grade teacher named Rosemary Cross.

Olivia Williams isn't given that much to do in this role; she mostly has to react to Max and Herman as they get pushed over their respective edges. Which she does admirably well. Unfortunately, the best way to deal with someone who is trying to get your attention in inappropriate ways is to ignore them, so Williams gets less screen time than she (and I) might have liked.

Rushmore plays out as most love triangles do, at least when one of the men is a teenager and the other is in the middle of a midlife crisis. Which is to say: unpredictably. I defy even confirmed Wes Anderson haters not to enjoy Max and Herman's revenge montage, which begins with Max letting live bees into Herman's hotel room and ends with prison. At three minutes long, it's a model of economy. Usually, montages elide scenes that would be dull if seen in full (imagine watching one of Rocky's full training sessions). In this case, however, Anderson takes scenes that would be much longer in any normal film and compresses the hell out of them. And it's not just plot that happens here; we learn a lot about Blume from his that sonovabitch smile when he realizes Max is responsible for his bee stings:

Seeing Murray's face slide from the above expression into one that says, roughly, "Max Fischer is gonna pay," is one of the film's great moments. Particularly when it's set to the music of The Who, it seems, revenge can be a terrific amount of fun.

When you get past the extraneous bullshit surrounding Anderson's films, the crux of disagreements about him reminds me of disagreements over David Foster Wallace (or Dave Eggers, or Thomas Pynchon, or even Vladimir Nabokov). It comes down to this: Are Anderson's stylistic tricks and distracting plot elements smoke and mirrors, or do they bring something unique to the stories he's telling?1 In the case of Rushmore, I think the answer has to be the latter.

The heart of the movie, for me, is not how charming or quirky Max is (which is basically what Edelstein seems to believe). If you're paying attention, it's clear that Max's manias are fueled by unhappiness as much as narcissism. When he tells Ms. Cross that Harvard is his safety school (if he doesn't get into Oxford or the Sorbonne), he's not just trying to impress her; that's really the standard he holds himself to. And he holds himself to that standard because his mother, who encouraged him to write plays and got him into Rushmore Academy, has died of cancer. In that context, you can read Anderson's visual style in the first act (which is the most boldly colored) as something like what Max is up to: a calculated campaign of distraction from genuine pain. The colors get washed out as soon as Max gets expelled from Rushmore Academy, and they don't return to their original boldness until Herman's haircut, at the beginning of the final act. Even the filmic references get duller: you couldn't put an homage to Frederick Wiseman in the sections at Rushmore Academy, but it fits right in at Grover Cleveland High School. When Max can't keep up his tap dance over the abyss, neither can the film.

So to me, Rushmore is a movie where style and substance are pretty unified. And you shouldn't scoff at Anderson's achievement here; unified style and substance are a lot easier to do with a pessimistic film (e.g., Children of Men) than in one where the tone is something like "bittersweet optimism." Which is not to say it's a universally appealing film throughout; you either think the idea of a theatrical version of Serpico is hilarious or you don't.

I do. And I think the movie has one of the most satisfying endings in film history. Max puts on a play at his new school about the Vietnam war and invites everyone from the rest of the film. At the afterparty, they all get along like gangbusters. And everyone is in these final scenes; there's no villain who must be excluded as a condition of the heroes' happiness. The first play of Max's we see, it's apparent that he's interested in the acclaim it can bring him. The last play, he's discovered the more rewarding purpose art can serve. He's creating an environment in which all injuries can be healed, all sorrows forgotten. And of course, that's not just Max's goal, but Anderson's. It takes heroic efforts (and in Max's case, flamethrowers, dynamite, and a wildly inaccurate understanding of the Vietnam War). And it never lasts long. But it's what art can do, at its very best. In the final shot, as if in recognition of how fleeting happiness and reconciliation like this always are, Anderson uses a variable-speed camera to stretch the moment out as long as possible. The times I've felt that way, that's how I remember it.


  • Even the best (and funniest) critique of Anderson's films so far, Tyler Burr's review of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, has some reflexive hatred of hipsters (Burr describes Anderson as the kind of person who "wears interesting socks.") Not that there's anything intrinsically wrong with hating hipsters.

  • Much has been made of Anderson's debt to Salinger. I think Rushmore owes more to Hal Ashby, frankly. There's clearly a straight line between Harold and Max's narcissism, just like there's a straight line between Max's slow-motion semi-sneer after his version of Serpico:

    And Harold's expression after successfully faking self-immolation.

  • I'm a big fan of 2.35:1 in general; and I'd like to go on record now as saying that 2.35:1 anamorphic, attached to a wide-angle lens (in the case of Rushmore, a 40mm lens for everything) looks fantastic. I don't know if it's the lens or the film format, but the images look sharper and denser, even on DVD, than in other films I've seen. However, if you're shooting your film in this format, please be sure that everyone in post and publicity knows how you want it treated. The DVD features an interesting joint appearance on The Charlie Rose Show by Anderson and Bill Murray—with a horribly distracting bad transfer of film clips. Here's a shot of Jason Schwartzman in the film itself:

    And here's the way it showed up on Charlie Rose (uncropped, so you're seeing the full video image):

    Granted, the blurriness is inevitable when you're looking at something that was transferred from a tape of a television program, which featured a broadcast of a tape of a film, which was undoubtedly transferred in a hurry to whatever format the show's producers required. But I wonder if Rose insisted that clips be in no wider aspect ratio than 1.85:1? This still is at about 1.77:1, and to get there, they've cropped the sides of the image. That's relatively normal. But they've also incompletely expanded it horizontally. Schwartzman's shoulders are skinny enough in that blazer—from which the pads had been removed—in the original still. Here, he looks like a beanpole. For all of you who couldn't give a damn about film transfers under any circumstances, I offer my sincere apologies.

  • Anderson gets a lot of credit from me for discovering Brian Cox's comedic talents. Or at least for bringing them to my attention. Anderson cast him as Dr. Guggenheim, the director of Rushmore Academy, on the strength of his performance as Hannibal Lecktor (yes, that's spelled right) in Red Dragon Manhunter.2 Because when you're casting "principal," you think "serial killer," not "a prince! and a pal!"

  • Apparently, the real life Bill Murray hated the real-life actors who played his sons just as much as Herman Blume hated their characters.

  • Finally, I recommend buying or renting the Criterion version of Rushmore because it has one of the very best extra features of any DVD I know. For the 1999 MTV Movie Awards, Wes Anderson directed his own versions of Armageddon, The Truman Show, and Out of Sight, as performed for high school theater by the Rushmore Players, directed by Max Fischer. They're fantastic. And in the most obscure joke on the DVD, Anderson has Max Fischer slide across the stage on a chair during the NASA scenes from Armageddon:

    Why? Because Max Fischer is the director. And Michael Bay did the same slide in the same rolling chair, for just as little apparent reason, in his cameo in Armageddon.

1Actually, in the long term, the question you can have more interesting disagreements about is whether it matters; some filmmakers and writers seem to think divorcing style from substance is desirable (cf. Tarantino, Leyner). As you've probably figured out if you've been reading this blog, I am not one of them.

2Nothing's more embarrassing than being a pedantic asshole about the correct spelling of a character's name in a particular version of a film, and then getting the title wrong. And not just "wrong," but "confused with a Brett Ratner movie." I suppose the take-home lesson should be to try not to be a pedantic asshole. But we all know that's not going to happen.


Anonymous said...

"The heart of the movie, for me, is not how charming or quirky Max is (which is basically what Edelstein seems to believe). If you're paying attention, it's clear that Max's manias are fueled by unhappiness as much as narcissism. When he tells Ms. Cross that Harvard is his safety school (if he doesn't get into Oxford or the Sorbonne), he's not just trying to impress her; that's really the standard he holds himself to...In that context, you can read Anderson's visual style in the first act (which is the most boldly colored) as something like what Max is up to: a calculated campaign of distraction from genuine pain. "

Another excellent analysis of a film! I particularly liked the above quote and I think you articulated what I like most about Anderson's films - the fantastic, insulated worlds the characters create to protect themselves from reality. It was a great point to make about Rushmore, and is just as applicable to Tenenbaums and Life Aquatic.

I've been wondering about other 'flights of fantasy' films in a similar style. I haven't seen it yet but Michele Gondry's latest, Science of Sleep, sounds like it revels in their character's fantasy world while showing how the delusions can dangerously divorce people from the reality of situations.

I agree with you about the way film review programmes seem to crop their widescreen films to at least 1.85:1 when they show clips. I've never understood this, because surely it prevents the viewing audience from being able to properly judge how good a film looks from what they are shown (an attempt to allow the interviewer/film reviewers commentary to dominate the image?)

I agree about Brian Cox showing a talent for quirky comedy in this film (it seems like it was his return as a character actor of choice after not being seen much in big Hollywood films after his excellent Hannibal Lecter in Manhunter). I like the way he can alternate his supporting roles from big budget X-Men films, to making a tiny role as the father in Red Eye memorable, to the great performance in L.I.E.

His role in the recent Running With Scissors sounds similar to Bill Murray's in Tenenbaums! While I do like Anderson's films I think the critic Mark Kermode's analysis of the similar Running With Scissors would probably fit in with my feelings about Anderson as well. He talked about a little 'quirky comedy' going a long way, and I would probably agree. On e viewing of Rushmore can last me a few months of even a year before wanting to go back and rewatch, even though I really like and admire them!

Again, as Kermode said, too much can be 'quirksome to the point of irksome'!

Rog said...

Matt, very nice writeup once again.

I wanted to correct one minor factual error.
Wes Anderson's article about the Kael encounter appeared in Brick, not the NY Times. Wikipedia on Pauline Kael lists it as:
'Taking Pauline Kael to the Movies', Toronto, Brick, A Literary Journal, No. 62, May 1999

And a NY Times search for Wes Anderson only yields:
STYLE & ENTERTAINING; Welcome To the Dahl House
August 18, 2002, Sunday
By WES ANDERSON (NYT); Magazine Desk
Late Edition - Final, Section 6, Page 42, Column 1, 777 words
DISPLAYING ABSTRACT - Wes Anderson article on visit to gardens at Gipsy House, Roald Dahl estate near Oxford, Eng, and tiny hut where he wrote his children's books

Which makes sense as he's turning Fantastic Mr. Fox by Dahl into his next pic.

Once again, great analysis!

Matthew Dessem said...


The Science of Sleep is quite interesting to see, especially when compared with Anderson's work, because it makes the point that quirky people are usually completely unbearable to be around. I had thought of Gondry's film as a corrective to things like Garden State, but suppose it's equally applicable to Anderson—especially if you're someone who isn't as charmed by Anderson's characters as he is.

Re: cropping films: I guess part of it is selective memory when it comes to television size and letterboxed films. I moved to Los Angeles in 2000, and I remember (again, in Los Angeles, where people love movies) there being a separate section at the local video store where widescreen VHS tapes were stored. So odds are good broadcasting a 1.85:1 clip was already a concession.

Brian Cox pretty much has the dream career as far as character acting goes: he gets to do whatever he wants. I never saw L.I.E., but have you seen him in Super Troopers? Classic.

"Quirksome to the point of irksome" is autological!


Anonymous said...

FYI on the subject of Anderson's 'deal' with the Criterion Collection, it's basically a Disney thing, where Criterion gets to have released their version of this movie and the only releases of The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic, and the trade-off is that they would also put out The Rock and Armageddon.

Matthew Dessem said...


Thanks for the kind words. But I've gotta correct a minor factual error in your correction of my minor factual error, because at first I made the same mistake you did, re: "Brick." Here's the original Times article, and here are the letters from Edelstein and Anderson about the incident. I think maybe Anderson revised or expanded it for "Brick" a few months later.

Also, The Fantastic Mr. Fox will come out after The Darjeeling Limited, if at all. Animated films have a huge lead time, especially stop-motion. The Fantastic Mr. Fox was scheduled for something like summer of 2008, but the exec who got the project for Fox Animation quit a month or so ago without any warning, and the new people there haven't made any changes yet. Usually the first change people make is throwing out as much of the slate they inherited as they can. Since they've only had Fantastic Mr. Fox since October and haven't cast it, it wouldn't be too surprising if they pulled the plug. I hope they don't, but it's not impossible. See here, here, and here for the sequence of events.

There was a factual error in the original post, though. I had Brian Cox down as appearing in Red Dragon. The first film of the novel by that name was Manhunter.

Matthew Dessem said...


So if Criterion released an edition of Transformers, we could get access to the entire Paramount/Dreamworks library?


Rog said...

My bad. That's what I get for trusting Wikipedia. Thanks for the correction to my incorrect correction!


Anonymous said...

This is still the best movie review site I've come across; but at one review a month -you do realize you'll never get through the collection, since they average 3 releases a month! :-)

Keep 'em coming.

Matthew Dessem said...

I know, I know. This is rapidly becoming an occasional thing&8212;right now, I'm working on a script and don't want to lose momentum. How's this: if I ever sell a screenplay, I'll have more time for this sort of thing, and I'll pick up the pace.

CR said...

Nice blog, I stumbled on it just today and it makes for some fantastic reading. I also share the ambition of not only seeing every Criterion movie, but also to own every single one (sparing Salo perhaps, it's $2000). 78 down.

Matthew Dessem said...


Yeah, Salo is a lot of money for a whole lot of awfulness, if you ask me. Glad you like the blog.


Species: Cheekius_Geekus said...

I've seen Rushmore once (and had no idea who Wes Anderson was or the baggage he apparently brings with him). Rushmore instantly became one of my 5 favorite films of all time. The Criterion Collection version is on my Most Wanted list. IMHO, Bill Murray should have won Best Supporting Actor for Rushmore. I think he is far better in it than he was in Lost in Translation (which I feel is one of the most overrated movies in recent memory).

I also enjoy The Royal Tenenbaums, and probably put it in my Top 20. I did not care for Bottle Rocket and didn't see much of interest in The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, but it does share a visual style that I enjoy.

Species: Cheekius_Geekus said...

Are Anderson's stylistic tricks and distracting plot elements smoke and mirrors, or do they bring something unique to the stories he's telling?1 In the case of Rushmore, I think the answer has to be yes.

I'm not sure if you were just trying to be funny there, or what, but "Yes" cannot be the answer to an OR question. It must be either "the former" or "the latter". If you are saying "Yes" to both, then it isn't really an OR question.

Anonymous said...

the revenge sequence:

Matthew Dessem said...

Cheeky Geek,

You have to give Bottle Rocket credit for bringing the Wilsons to Hollywood. I've always loved it, although I think the love subplot is weak. Actually, if the rest of the movie were unwatchably bad, I would still love it if it had the scene where Owen Wilson has to think of fake names on the fly, and comes up with "Jerry" and "Cornelius." (Although, since it wouldn't be Wes Anderson if the joke weren't a little too clever, the names are an allusion to another writer's work). Cornelius.

Re: the former or the latter, you're right, of course. I wasn't trying to be funny so much as I was failing to be literate. I've corrected the sentence.

Matthew Dessem said...


Thanks for posting that; I've removed the dead link to YouTube that was in the post itself. I suspect your link will eventually die as well; that's the trouble with YouTube links...


Anonymous said...

Oh, man, what a great freaking blog. Great review! Now *I* don't have to watch the entire collection! So much cheaper. It's like having the Cliff Notes for dinner conversations with my film geek friends. That, and it's funny.

Sorry, I'm late to the party here.

Anonymous said...

I loved Rushmore along with the other Wes Anderson films.

This movie was filmed down the street from when I first moved to Houston. I still work in the area and always think of Rushmore when I drive my St. John's School.

Great review!

Anonymous said...

This is a great idea for a blog and it's wonderfully executed -- your knowledge of cinema and the tangential information you've gathered about the topic at hand make reading your review an enjoyable experience.

Matthew Dessem said...

Allan W,

Welcome—glad you're enjoying the blog. I can't condone it as a substitute for seeing the movies, though. For one thing, I think the stills I use are covered by fair use, but that requires that they not have a deleterious effect on the market value of the work they're taken from. So I'm pretty sure what you meant to say was, "Now I don't have to watch the entire collection, but I'm sure going to buy every last DVD Criterion puts out, because of this blog and its use of film stills..."


Matthew Dessem said...


Glad you liked the review. St. John's is a really perfect location; it must be nice to see it.

Matthew Dessem said...



JMW said...

Just found this blog today, and I love it. Great, smart reviews.

Bottle Rocket is probably still my favorite Anderson movie, because his stylistic flair hadn't ossified into a predictable series of tics. And I saw it first, and several times. You know how it is with firsts. But I do love Rushmore.

v said...

Marvelous, marvelous review. Rushmore instantly became my favourite movie and it's stayed that way over the years. I think it's Max's indomitable spirit, his unrelenting persistence and determination in things that he does that I find both amusing and inspiring on different levels. I chuckled at all the different scenes you described and can probably narrate the film from memory at this point. It's a prized possession in my moviegoing mental history, and I appreciate your evenhanded review (as opposed to Edelstein's defiantly confused one). Kudos!

Matthew Dessem said...

jmw, vix--thanks! jmw: you know what I really want to see? The original Bottle Rocket short. vix: Edelstein's later reviews of Anderson are more evenhanded, for what that's worth.

jpb said...

And everyone is in these final scenes; there's no villain who must be excluded as a condition of the heroes' happiness.

Except Blume's sons, who are off at military school. They are said to "love it," however. said...

Great blog!

Matthew Dessem said...


I forgot about them! Nice catch. But I guess they get a happy ending too, of sorts.

Matthew Dessem said...

b. laesch,


Antmanifesto said...

I realize this comment is about 12 months late, but I feel compelled to leave it.

I adored this blog. You speak my language, and I find it very difficult these days to find anyone who does, since all my friends left film school either to go into debt trying to make a movie, or ran away to far-away places where the promise of work was richer. I suppose I could meet and make friends with current film geeks at my school, but I'm far too engrossed in the math I'm currently studying to get easy access to them.

None of the points made in the previous paragraph after the "I adored this blog" part were the point.

Also not the point, but something I also feel compelled to say, is this:

This DVD was my first introduction to the Criterion Collection, (and, for that matter, to DVD at all, believe it or not...) When MTV ran spots for the VMAs which promised the five nominees for best movie would each have a Max Fischer Players rendition during the show, I was as happy as a little girl...

When the night came, and none of them played, presumably because 2 of them never were made, (a fact I'm too lazy to check at this moment), I nearly cried. I sat there and watched the whole dreadful ceremony in anticipation, though my hope dwindled exponentially as time went on.

So when, somewhere, I read about the inclusion of the three completed ones on the Criterion Disc, I became ecstatic once again.

The day it was released, I went to some store and bought it, along with a DVD player (on sale...)

When I got home, I put the Disc in to watch, only to find that my DVD player couldn't handle dual-layer discs, (it had been on clearance, after all). I nearly cried again. I tried to take the player back, but, again, since it had been on clearance, the store would not accept it. Oddly, they offered to exchange the DVD for the non-Criterion edition, (my presumption is that this was way before average people had easy access to DVD-duplication software). Being a poor student at the time, I had to accept. I kept the wretched player, but gave back the whole reason I got it.

I have never gotten another copy, nor have I seen the now quite old scenes which originally caused me to purchase a DVD player in the first place.

Realizing that this evening, I did a web search and stumbled upon this blog. I'm terribly glad I did.

So, again, I loved it. Thank you very much for writing a well-thought-out, well-organized (unlike my comment), and well composed piece. You somehow manage to satisfy us geeks without (seemingly) alienating the others.

I will definitely read more.

One more not-the-point-but-I-want-to-share moment:

For some reason, the part of Rushmore that makes me laugh the very hardest is the part when Mr. Blume is on Ms. Cross's porch, she answers the door holding a plate of carrots, and he asks her the following: "Having some carrots?" If that is a reference, I do not know it, and I could never hope to explain to anyone why I find it so damn funny, but I do.

OK. Enough of my random babble. Thanks again for the great piece. I have a DVD to go buy.

Warren said...

No comments necessary- you got it.

Mathilda said...

I just discovered your blog today, and I'm so addicted. I love your reviews, they really help me prioritize which Criterion films to watch first.

My public library has an excellent collection of the Criterion Collection, and I've been slowly going through the ones that appeal the most to me. I own a few too, but they're so damn expensive in Canada (average cost 60 Canadian dollars, which is ludicrous considering that the Canadian dollar is almost equivalent to US dollars as a result of the downturn in the American economy). Anyways, I digress.

Rushmore has been a long time favorite of mine and your review reminded me of how much I love it. Keep up the good work!

Jason said...

Just came across your site via Ebert - really enjoying the essays.

Had to say that my favorite part of any Anderson film is in Bottle Rocket when Dignan gets in a bar fight and calls out the signal, "ca-caw."

I think those moments are what I enjoy from Anderson - there are a lot of seemingly throw-away, subtle lines or moments, but his films seem so crafted that, as a viewer, you know that everything was thought about and chosen for a reason.

Emery said...

I consider every person should read this.
Beef Burgundy

Anonymous said...

This movie is apalling. Anderson is a dickhead.

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