#kara hayward

We can follow a design or path and we can follow the free way.

Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

“What kind of bird are you?”

Penguin Classics inspired self-help paperbacks, block colour record players and short, vibrant dresses with high socks are just some of the items that comprise the world of Wes Anderson’s latest symmetrical ode to dysfunction, Moonrise Kingdom.

Yet rather than simply being superficial objects used to mask a character’s lack of depth, Anderson, as he so often does, injects his troubled, twelve year old protagonists with multiple layers of (adult) emotion through these objects, treating them as responses, not affectations - these are children, sick of being treated as children, who long to be adults.

This precociousness is an interesting dynamic, and one that Anderson has only approached once before, albeit briefly, in The Royal Tenenbaums, and it works well enough here. But, unlike The Royal Tenenbaums, Moonrise Kingdom lacks the heart that made Anderson’s masterpiece so poignantly compelling. The conflict that drove Sam and Suzy to the point where they have to escape is glossed over, leaving the logic behind their actions unclear. Of course, Anderson is trying to treat his characters as the children they are, but for a film as filled with adult emotion as this, avoiding conflict in such a way is doing the story a disservice. An audience needs to understand why the characters are acting the way they are, otherwise it’s difficult to connect with their situation.

And that’s the case here. It’s a shame, as there’s so much to like about Moonrise Kingdom: it’s a thoroughly charming, funny and romantic film. But by avoiding the conflicts that drive the storyline to its (somewhat underwhelming) climax, Moonrise Kingdom is a very hard film to fall in love with.