Rushmore (Wes Anderson)

Max Fischer: prep school rebel. Or not.

Perhaps a film that really was quite a puzzle during its time that even veteran film critic Pauline Kael was "thoroughly mystified" by it, "Rushmore" bursts into the screen with a kind of humor and passive grace reminiscent of Robert Altman's works, but is sadly lacking in solid focus and direction. For newbie filmmakers, it is but normal to either commit rookie mistakes or wallow in self-indulgence (or both) along the way; for Wes Anderson in this film, it surely is the latter. Unlike his later works which are all clear about what their central themes are ('family' in "The Royal Tenenbaums", "The Life Aquatic", and "Fantastic Mr. Fox", 'brotherhood' in "The Darjeeling Limited", and 'young love' in "Moonrise Kingdom", among others), it is quite obvious that "Rushmore" isn't really sure about what kind of film it really wants to be. 

On one side, it's kind of like trying to be a coming-of-age story about a popular, seemingly self-taught student named Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman) who's consistently getting his ass beat by the eponymous school's stern educational system. On another, it's really about an unlikely friendship between Max and a quirky industrialist named Herman Blume (played by the 'godfather' of quirks: Bill Murray), and also their intense romantic interest on a young, newly-widowed teacher (Olivia Williams). And then, as if in hundreds of other corners, there are also these little happenings that seem to have little to no significance to the whole story, but are nonetheless scattered all throughout the film by Wes Anderson simply because he is Wes Anderson, and that he can do off-kilter things in his films and still be labelled 'cool'. 

The performances, although all are imprinted with a sense of wry passive-aggressiveness that emanates from almost all of Wes Anderson's characters, come up quite short in terms of making me feel that this is indeed a Wes Anderson film. Adding on what I've said earlier, the script is a tad too aimless to begin with, which of course resulted in the film being two sizes too small for its projected ambition. It is, for me, like a standard-sized blanket that was stretched far beyond its limits to accommodate 5 sleepers. In short, "Rushmore" is like 3 films worth of stories were crammed into one 'school misfit-centric' picture and was then left just as that, which is nothing short of a textbook exercise in 'more being less' coming from the Futura font-loving director himself. 

Although much has been said about how Wes Anderson is slowly perfecting the art of handling multiple narratives with every film he makes, "Rushmore" is still here to remind us that he and his films were once not so masterfully absurd and quirky but instead quite mischievously unfocused and clumsy. And just like its hero Max Fischer, "Rushmore" seems more interested in extracurricular activities rather than its core priority, which is to tell the story in a non-alienating way. And is it just me, or is Max Fischer really isn't that likable and strong of a protagonist to really carry the film through? Perhaps there's a reason why Anderson's later films feature more than one main character, and also why Jason Schwartzman has merely taken on relatively smaller roles in his films ever since. It appears that one of Wes Anderson's weaknesses is extracting and then sustaining an interesting enough narrative from a single character, and "Rushmore" just goes to expose this glaring fact. The film is like "Dead Poets Society's" detached and peculiar younger brother, and he couldn't care any less about you, your opinion, and whether or not he gets himself understood. This is, quite simply, a film made by a director who's still testing the waters.

FINAL RATING

Rise of the Planet of the Apes (Rupert Wyatt)

Andy Serkis as Caesar.

Just when Hollywood is being continuously filled up with useless prequels and countless spin-offs, here's "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" looking at us with eyes all straight and determined. Filled with awe-inspiring sequences that reminds me of the first time I saw the gigantic wonders of Spielberg's "Jurassic Park", it's a 'make or break' film that may easily solidify and further cement the fact that the 'Planet of the Apes' franchise is long dead and gone. But guess what? With what this film has achieved with its intelligent narrative and surprisingly compassionate emotional exposition, it re-integrates itself into the gallery of other science fiction greats and dare declare its reverberated pulse.

At least from what I've watched in the original Franklin J. Schaffner film, the first "Planet of the Apes" film relies on the lonesome breath of its human characters (particularly Charlton Heston's character) because with apes around you and nothing more, where else would you? It is the sense of emotional neutrality that separates this film from the said 1968 film that has also able to give this prequel a hair-raising feel of both suspense and warmth.

But before anything else, the film, directed by Rupert Wyatt with an ability to back his already compelling narrative with balanced kinetics and drama, of course assumes that you already knew that Earth and the titular planet, at least in its make-believe reality, is the same (thanks to one of the greatest cinematic twists in movie history). In fact, that's basically what this film is all about: the establishment of how apes has taken over the world and why. But what makes this film stand out, though, is its switch of perspectives without touching the chords of its already finely-toned dramatic impartiality.

We may feel sympathy towards the apes from time to time, but this film incurs its strength more by means of empathy, which cannot be achieved into great effect if not because of Andy Serkis' remarkable motion-capture performance as the aptly named primate Caesar (after the great Roman Emperor). We thought that his role as Gollum was the towering and unprecedented milestone in his career, but this film offers great contest that some may think twice. His Caesar holds its own with its distinct sense of tenderness and logical brute force.

It's a fair belief that CGI characters, no matter how feverishly dramatic they can be, still will never equal that of a real actor's mark. Serkis' Caesar is different, and so was the other primates. There's something uniquely powerful in their ability to exercise the meager traits of simple humanity that they seem to quietly re-invigorate the nuances of being human. And balanced by a strong lead role by James Franco as Will Rodman, "Rise of the Planet of the Apes" is an utterly convincing tale of compassion and connection amid an immense evolutionary barrier.

Supporting roles include Freida Pinto, whose performance quietly shouts of 'generic leading lady', John Lithgow, who gave a brief but resonant one as Will Rodman's father, and Tom Felton as Draco Malfoy. Oh, sorry, as Dodge Langdon. Talk about stereotype casting. He's been through these 'bullying' and all for 8 movies. Come on, move on, mate.

The film, although advertised more for its visual effects, is still more about the tension of the build-up rather than it is about the climactic siege of the Golden Gate Bridge. True, the final action setpiece left me and all the other viewers in utter awe, but the scene when Caesar defiantly shouts "No!" for the first time as his tongue finally reaches the capacity of human language, has inspired the audience around me to utter a resounding "Whoa!"

If such middle scenes can simulate such reaction, you know the film's doing something right. And how more can it be right? By immediate standards, this is how you do a prequel. With a miniature Statue of Liberty and the Icarus spacecraft on the side. Fully aware of its source film and gratefully so.

FINAL RATING