An AWOL Khaki Scout and his sweetheart
commit probably the most adorable elopement ever put on screen in Wes
Anderson's Moonrise Kingdom, the latest in the auteur's
ever-growing portfolio of exacting comedies, wherein subdued youthful
angst and emotional exploration manifest themselves in a case of love
on the run, sending shock waves through the cozily contained island
community of New Penzance.
The two absconders in question are
12-year-olds Sam and Suzy, exquisitely played by newcomers Jared
Gilman and Kara Hayward with a precocious, self-aware deadpan
intended to serve Anderson and cowriter Roman Coppola's deliberately
eccentric dialogue. He, an orphan who can't seem to make friends even
among his fellow Khaki Scouts as they're so called (not to be
confused with Baden-Powell's boys), and she, frustrated and smothered
by a family composed of three banal brothers and lawyer parents who
parley in legal jargon without a trace of irony or affection, have in
common that they're both social outsiders, and both may be, as others
perceive them to be, “emotionally disturbed” – but really, who
wasn't at that age? Perhaps emotionally curious is a better way of
summing it up, after a chance meeting at a church pageant followed
by an intimate pen pal correspondence prompts them one summer to
runaway together, certain that whatever existence they forge for
themselves in the coastal wilderness of their island home will be
happier than the ones they currently lead.
But storm clouds loom, both literally
in the form of an impending hurricane which Anderson cleverly evokes
to add a sense of urgency to the narrative, and metaphorically in the
form of the many frazzled players whose search for the missing
twosome circles in ever closer on their beach-side campsite, which
may as well be their unofficial honeymoon destination. Sam and Suzy's
chaste love affair equates to pseudo matrimony (a motif taken to a
delectably literal extent in the third act), finding oneness of their
adolescent bodies, minds, and souls in each other's company. Although
they're too young to understand it, they can tell that they're soul
mates. Anderson even makes a visual point of it by giving Sam a thick
pair of Coke bottle glasses and Suzy an even thicker pair of
binoculars through which the guarded girl can view people at a safe
distance.
As precious as the story is, Anderson
does not shy away from undercurrents of more severity, from bullying
to adultery to violence to emotional neglect, but it's clear that he
has no intention of making such themes a burden on his charming
romance. It's written throughout with Anderson's typical brand of
light humour without hinging on hysteria, although some of the
frantic slapstick of the climax feels a tad out of place. The cast is
a splendid one, replete with tickling performances from Bill Murray
and Frances MacDormand as Suzy's legality citing parents, Bruce
Willis as a sad but sympathetic cop (and maybe the one grownup who
actually identifies with the kids), and Edward Norton as Sam's
fastidious Scout Master. Fans of Anderson's cosmetic style will find
great delight in discovering the world of New Penzance. Adam
Stockhausen's quaint diorama sets pop with colour and texture, and
are custom built to accommodate Anderson's proclivity for symmetrical
picture book compositions (shot here by Robert Yeoman).
With nary a sight, sound, or moment
wasted, Moonrise Kingdom charms nostalgic viewers into
recalling the pang of youthful loneliness and the touch of first
love. While the stylization may cause the feeling of the film to not
ring true for some, one can't help but sense a kernel of earnestness
behind the cute window dressings.
**** out of ****
