Asteroid City
Unmistakably a Wes Anderson movie with its thorough attention to detail, dry comedic dialogue, and quirky, damaged characters, Asteroid City nevertheless finds the writer/director taking yet another a creative step forward to expand his already stellar filmography.
Reminiscent of The Grand Budapest Hotel’s Russian doll structure, the filmmaker’s 11th feature takes a more ambitious storytelling approach and more freely pings between its complementary parts. Opening with a B&W TV program hosted by a Rod Serling-like host (Bryan Cranston) that delves into the making of a play called Asteroid City, Anderson primarily focuses on a color film adaptation of that fictional work — or perhaps it’s merely a more thorough imagining of what manifested in the mind of playwright Conrad Earp (Edward Norton, beautifully channeling Tennessee Williams).
To quote Sam Shakusky from Moonrise Kingdom, “Who’s to say?”
Charting a precise map of the whole thing is going to take a few more viewings and may very well wind up being a fruitless endeavor. But the interplay between the three components, what they suggest about the creative process, and the imaginative ways they intersect produces such well-crafted humor and heartfelt moments that retaking that journey even for purely recreational purposes is a downright irresistible proposition.
Key to Asteroid City’s charm is Anderson’s largest ensemble thus far, filling the connected narrative layers in memorable ways — particularly those who inhabit multiple planes. As war photographer Augie Steenbeck, a captivating Jason Schwartzman channels the ennui of a recent widower unsure how to proceed with his home life yet antsy to return to work, and he also nails the relentless professional ambition of 1950s Actors Studio performer Jones Hall, the thespian playing Augie.
Scarlett Johansson comparably shines as Midge Campbell, a Hollywood star who, like Augie, has a brilliant child competing for a scholarship at the titular desert town’s 1955 Junior Astronomer convention, and pulls double duty as the volatile “real-life” actress Mercedes Ford. Other actors from the film side appear to lesser extents in flashbacks concerning the play, but it’s the fast-forming bond between Midge and Augie that’s the heart of the play, followed closely by the budding romance between their charming brainiac kids, Dinah (Grace Edwards, Call Jane) and Woodrow (Jake Ryan, Eighth Grade).
Further enhancing the connections between play and film, Conrad’s detailed stage directions allow viewers to imagine the unseen tale on Broadway while witnessing its full color glory unfold. In addition to such brick-and-mortar enhancements as the town’s motel, with its hilariously inadequate accommodations and oddly impressive selection of vending machines, as well as a friendly CGI roadrunner, the movie side includes a hilarious alien encounter that, based on a quick backstage theater moment with a costumed Jeff Goldblum, occurs noticeably differently in each medium.
In other words, to echo another past Anderson protagonist, one side is the type of slick production that Rushmore’s Max Fischer imagines he’s staging, while the other is the low-budget, old-fashioned show that attendees actually see. Both have their merits and succeed marvelously, but the difference in production value is astronomical.
As these events tend to do, the extraterrestrial experience shakes up the lives of everyone who unwittingly becomes stuck in Asteroid City, prompting a rapid-fire mix of revelations and “end of the world” spontaneity that Anderson orchestrates with spirited confidence.
And though details ranging from precocious children to live theater to a jangly, Greek chorus-like tune by Jarvis Cocker are recycled from his past efforts, they all feel fresh in the service of this story. Promising new additions to the filmmaker’s cast of regulars also help, especially Tom Hanks as Augie’s father-in-law, Matt Dillon as the town mechanic, and Maya Hawke as an overwhelmed teacher on a school field trip.
By witnessing these various angles that explore the creation and enactment of the desert yarn, it’s clear that Conrad Earp’s Asteroid City had a significant impact on those involved and warrants the attention bestowed upon it by the TV program. Similarly, Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City is so rich of a text that one could easily imagine it receiving its own primetime, behind-the-scenes spotlight someday.
Grade: A-minus. Rated PG-13. Now playing at Carolina Cinemark, the Fine Arts Theatre, Grail Moviehouse, and Regal Biltmore Grande.
(Photo: Pop. 87 Productions/Focus Features)