Asteroid City.

I’m not a huge Wes Anderson fan, which I think is a key disclaimer if you’re going to talk about any of his films. I loved both his animated features and felt pretty close to that about Grand Budapest Hotel, but Bottle Rocket annoyed me throughout, and I turned off Rushmore after 20 minutes because I wanted to punch the television. He’s got a style, and clearly actors will go well out of their way to work with him, but you have to get on his wavelength and stay there for the length of a film, which doesn’t always work for me given his stilted dialogue and idiosyncratic ways of framing shots.

Asteroid City might have his most impressive cast ever, with at least three Oscar winners and twice that many more nominees, almost to the point where the value of a star cameo is diminished because you stop being tickled by the time Hong Chau (nominated last year for The Whale) shows up for five minutes. At the same time, the film requires so much of its actors because most of them get relatively little time on screen – and everyone talks so quickly, par for the Anderson course – and because, unfortunately, the story here kind of stinks. (It’s streaming on Peacock or available to rent on Amazon.)

The conceit behind Asteroid City is that we are watching a televised play within the movie, although the play itself shows up on our screens as a movie (rather than taking place on a stage, where we get some interstitial moments instead). The playwright (Ed Norton) and the host of the television series (Bryan Cranston) introduce the setting and, very briefly, some of the main characters, after which we are thrust into Asteroid City, population 78, a desert town in the American Southwest whose only claim to anything is that a very small meteorite hit the town and left a “crater” maybe slightly larger than a divot left by John Daly. In this town, there’s a convention for the Junior Stargazers science competition, and we meet several families, most of whom arrive with one parent and anywhere from one to four children in tow. The convention is hosted by Dr. Hickenlooper (a surprisingly normal Tilda Swinton) and General Griff Gibson (Jeffrey Wright), and after they give out the awards for the best projects, there’s a viewing using pinhole cameras, during which an alien shows up and takes the meteorite. Hilarity ensues. There’s also a group of grade schoolers led by teacher June (Maya Hawke), a weird country band led by Montana (Rupert Friend), and the hotel proprietor and the only resident of Asteroid City we meet (Steve Carell). Outside of the play, we get black-and-white shots of the playwright, the play’s director (Adrien Brody, so underutilized here), an acting teacher (Willem Dafoe), and an actress whose part in the play was cut (Margot Robbie).

Almost all of those folks do the best they can in very limited roles, with Wright and Hawke the real standouts, but the core of the movie is the relationship that forms between Augie (Jason Schwartzman) and the actress Midge (Scarlett Johanssen, made up to look a lot like Annette Bening), and the one that develops between Augie’s son (Jake Ryan) and Midge’s daughter (Grace Edwards). Schwartzman is one of Anderson’s most frequent partners in crime, but he has dialed it way back here in the most likeable performance I’ve ever seen him give, even though Augie himself isn’t all that likeable – it’s Schwartzman giving depth to a father who’s, well, out of his depth on multiple levels. He’s also able to provide a strong foil for Johanssen’s performance as a troubled film star, one that could have overwhelmed a lesser actor in the opposite role. Schwartzman also appears as the actor playing Augie in the play in several black-and-white segments showing us the actor and Norton’s playwright or the actor discussing the play with Robbie’s character.

The script requires a lot of tolerance for Anderson’s stilted dialogue, and he pushes that too far at many points, including most of the interactions among the various prize-winning teens – other than the memory game they play while they’re all quarantined in Asteroid City by the military, which is one of the best scenes in the movie – and some of the dialogue from the side characters. It’s also just overstuffed with ideas, so that quirky bits like Hawke’s nervous, I-didn’t-sign-up-for-this teacher trying to teach astronomy to a bunch of elementary schoolers who just saw an alien, wash over the audience too quickly. It is coherent, but it is not cohesive, and by the time the last tourists pack up and leave Asteroid City, the lack of a real through-line to connect most, let alone all, of the characters overshadowed the many funny or clever bits scattered through the film.

Comments

  1. I say this as an absolute fan of Wes Anderson: this was his most Wes Anderson-iest film. My wife and I loved it but we 100% get why others might not.

  2. With Anderson (and a lot of other directors), I think it comes down to how you feel about the storyteller’s voice. Anderson’s more transparent about it than most. He’s reading to you from very wide book and there’s no attempt at realism. I am increasingly unable to watch Christopher Nolan films (not just because he stole Paprika and made it boring) because I don’t enjoy his voice. It seems like, as directors get more influence over their work, they often descend into self-parody, refining and accentuating their quirks and tics instead of broadening their scopes.

  3. I love Anderson for his quirks… but I’m also the guy that thought Fargo would be a good date movie (it was not).

    • I thought Trainspotting would be a good date movie. We all have our missteps.

    • Trainspotting on a first date! You’re not alone my brother/sister! Tough one to come back from.

  4. I generally don’t like Anderson – however, The Wonderful Life of Henry Sugar (Netflix) is an absolutely fantastic hour of entertainment.

    • I loved The Fantastic Mr. Fox so I do plan to check this out.

    • I enjoyed every one of his Dahl adaptations, and that was coming off my disappointment at Asteroid City (some great visual gags, but delivering Anderson-penned dialogue reduces too many performances to vocal exercises, I am increasingly finding…).

  5. Royal Tenanbaums – by far my favorite. Also with an amazing cast….

  6. I am a Wes Anderson fan, but as Mike wrote above, this is Wes Anderson as his absolutely most Wes Anderson. This one goes to 11, as they say. This makes Moonrise Kingdom look like it was directed by Ron Howard. I liked it and my wife, weirdly, loved it. (Weird because I’m the bigger Wes Anderson fan) But if you don’t buy what he’s selling, this isn’t the film for you.

    But you are correct in that Anderson is trying to say a lot in this movie. But I think what holds the film together is what he’s trying to say about the purpose (or lack thereof) of art–particularly dramatic art.

    But I appreciated your well-argued thoughts even if I disagree with some, but not all, of it.