Review - Moonrise Kingdom

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.

Best of the Decade #10: Lost in Translation (2003)

Sophia Coppola's Lost in Translation places a deadpan has-been actor trying to avoid a marriage past its prime and a young newlywed starved for her husband's time and attention in the foreign environment of Tokyo. Both characters (superbly played by Bill Murray and Scarlet Johansson) are desperately lost and confused, facing hard transitional points of their lives, mirrored by their alien status in an unfamiliar city. But with each other, they are able to find fleeting but meaningful refuge from their unhappiness. It is not really a romance (as some have mislabeled it), but a quiet character study of two unlikely companions who rely on each other's love to muster the strength to move forward into uncertain futures.

BRILLIANT SHOT ALERT:

This opening shot of Johansson's bottom thinly veneered by a pair of soft-pink panties puts us into the relaxed yet observant state of mind that's perfect for watching Lost in Translation. She's neither naked nor clothed, just somewhere in between. It establishes a basic colour scheme (we come to associate Charlotte with soft pink) and communicates her restless desire for intimacy. Like the whole film, the shot is simple yet nuanced, sure of itself yet understated, beautiful but not in a sexual way. It's eternally memorable, and it gets my vote for the single best shot of the decade.

Catch up with previous "Best of the Decade" entries here.