Rushmore (1998, R)Directed by Wes Anderson
Written by Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson
Starring Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, and Olivia Williams
As Reviewed by James Brundage
I have been joking about this movie with a friend of mine for about three weeks. He saw it, recommended that I see it, and always added the line "and if I see you show up at my door with a beret then I'll know I have created a monster." I'm showing up at his door in a beret.
The monster in question is that of Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman), the student-from-hell of Rushmore academy. He is involved in every organization on campus, he is the most popular person in school, and he does everything… but get good grades. For the rest of us that were freaks and geeks, Max Fischer is a hero: the nerd that made it onto the popular board. For me, he simply seems like a more outlandish version of myself. For popular people, he's the weird guy who's actually funny.
Max, however, is only the central figure in this truly bizarre film about relationships.
Rushmore concerns the love of Max for 1st grade teacher at Rushmore Rosemary Cross (Williams), his friendship with steel tycoon Herman Blume (Murray), and his competition with Blume for Rosemary's affection. Seeing as most movies shy away from massive age-differences in relationships, Rushmore is not and has no pressure to be the average film. And, without the big brother of trying to be popular looming over its shoulder, it has a great room to maneuver.
With this artistic freedom comes one of the funniest and most touching films of last year.
Rushmore's humor comes from the characters, who are about as far from the cardboard cutouts of most movies as the International Date Line is from Greenwich, England. Their relationships do not reek of being contrived but instead have the pleasant aroma of reality. Max, who has success in everything else, has no success with women and thus does not realize that his affections for Rosemary are more erotic than platonic. Blume is stuck in a life completely the opposite of what he expected, and sees some of his former self in Max yet a chance escape with a relationship Rosemary. Rosemary is on a constant search for a man like her dead husband… with character and charisma, and cannot decide whether this would be Blume or Max.
The almost-archetypal characters weave and interlink themselves in a tale that goes down onto our most base levels but works way about our heads. Because of the perfect characterization, we are not sure who to root for when the rivaling affections of Max and Blume become a childish battle of pranks. Likewise, we are not quite sure whether to hate or love Max for the nuances that make him who he is. And, because of this unsure nature of what we are supposed to think, we have absolutely no idea where the movie is going until it is there.
It is rare enough that I see an unpredictable thriller or drama, but I almost never see an unpredictable romance or comedy, and Rushmore is both. With every unsure moment you cannot guess which way the movie is going to take you… whether you are going to laugh or cry or both. Only one thing remains constant and sure: director Wes Anderson is a master craftsman.
Furthermore, the performances are excellent. Bill Murray tackles his second serious/comedic role (not counting Wild Things) as if he's been playing dramatic parts all his life. Schwartzman shows all of the panache of a seasoned pro at acting even though Rushmore is his first and only role to date. The one disappointment about this film comes in the form of Olivia Williams, who plays her archetype a little too much into the cliché. But, as everybody knows, nothing's perfect.
Sometime this week I am visiting my friend, updating him on what I thought of Rushmore. I only hope he doesn't read my review first and have some warning about my beret, about my fondness for the character and the film.