Any discussion of a legendary director’s first feature is a study in scrutiny and similarity. Rarely is the film taken on its own but as a discussion of how the director’s themes and signature style have evolved over time. Did he contain that spark early in his career, and what here can provide context for what comes later?
Wes Anderson has very recently been anointed to legendary status, complete with indie royalty credibility, a Best Picture nomination, box office gold, an ability to work with any actor he damn well pleases and a cinephile approved book dedicated to his life’s work. All those early skeptics of Anderson saw “Fantastic Mr. Fox,” “Moonrise Kingdom” and now “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and have come out of the woodwork to revisit and heap praise on what they might’ve missed earlier.
Whether or not this is a good way to evaluate a film is up for grabs, but “Bottle Rocket” probably gets a pass today because it is a Wes Anderson debut. As Matt Zoller Seitz writes in his essay on “Bottle Rocket” in his coffee table tome “The Wes Anderson Collection,” “Anderson didn’t make references; he had influences. And there were already signs that he had a pretty good idea who he was as a director and was comfortable in his own skin.” We see it in his first 90 degree whip pan, the “eye of God” shots, as Seitz puts it, or the affinity for color, music and whimsy. Some of the moments are so oddly beautiful and so definitely Anderson-y that you might call it brilliant, whereas someone seeing it fresh in 1996 could easily call it uneven.
Just how do you describe the film’s zany heist scene at Hinckley Cold Storage? The idiots involved are all frantically scrambling and talking over one another, more excited by the prospect of being in a heist and chase than actually stealing anything of value. So is this scene plain cartoon idiocy or calculated mayhem on par with “Moonrise Kingdom’s” campground fugitive chase or “Grand Budapest’s” hotel shootout?
Even the main characters Anthony and Dignan (Luke and Owen Wilson) exist in somewhat nebulous territory. They exhibit a childlike charm as they play with fireworks and examine a gun way too large for them to handle, and one wonders just how deep any mental problems they have might go. Anthony just got out of a mental institution he placed himself in, but it’s Dignan who needs constant attention and to be coddled into thinking they’re actually breaking out of the hospital or perpetuating a real burglary at their parents’ house. But then seen through a different light, they might just be dumb, immature and unlikeable, hardly as deep as Anderson hints, and not unlike some of the intentionally one-dimensional supporting characters of the Richard Linklater and Kevin Smith variety.
To me “Bottle Rocket” does seem a little problematic, not as funny or as eccentric as Anderson would very quickly become with “Rushmore,” and yet all the ingredients are there.
More interesting perhaps is the “Bottle Rocket” short Anderson made first, also included on the “Bottle Rocket” Criterion DVD. As Anderson explains in his interview with Seitz in “The Wes Anderson Collection,” this short was never intended to just be a rough cut sketch of the full movie. It has its own flair and style that doesn’t necessarily signal the director Anderson would become. It’s shot in black and white and feels even more characteristic of the French New Wave films that would inspire him, and yet at no point is it strictly a pastiche.
There’s something disarmingly touching and yet pathetic about Anthony, Dignan and Bob celebrating their successful bookstore robbery outside a burger and shake shack. Dignan describes the bookstore clerk’s expression and words as they stole from him, “I’m going to remember you.’ It was as if he was going to remember me forever.’ Well, we certainly have.