Rushmore (1998)

I struggled to write this because this is a popular movie and undoubtedly you've all seen it. But it troubles me that I don't love it. I'm a Wes Anderson fan and I have loved 3/4ths of his films. This one tops lots of critics' lists. But it's like 5th or so to me. Anyway.

The reason is simple: Rushmore is a charming, well-paced, comedy about prep schools kids, including one Max Fisher. Who is a stone-cold psycho. Really. If watching two hours of a kid completely ignoring anything resembling an appropriate boundary while sexually harassing a hapless teacher in mourning while his married manchild bestie Bill Murray also woos her is your jam...well, it is pretty fucking funny. But it's also too damn long and you want to smack Max. A lot.

Also, it irritates me that Wes Anderson won't admit that this is heavily influenced by The Chocolate War, considering all the parallels between Max and Jerry Renault, from the deceased mother to the mourning dad to the very direct way that they relate to the adults around them at their not especially elite prep schools. Who, in Rushmore, are mostly as inappropriate as Max, unless you include the headmaster who rouses himself from a stroke long enough to eject Max from Rushmore when he has the audacity to show up at the hospital and condescend to him.

This is one of Anderson's more energetic films, and it has the first of a few great soundtracks. Certain scenes are amazing -- the "A Quick One While He's Away" montage is next level.

But it could end 20 minutes before it does, and Max is a punk. The best character in the whole freakin' movie is his dad, who he pretends does not even exist for the first half of the movie. Max's dad, Bert the Barber, knows his son's ungovernable and completely nuts, and he just shows up and keeps displaying unconditional love to him until he sort of comes around.

There are some great performances here. Bill Murray, the kid who plays Dirk, and Olivia Williams provide some much needed not-Max-ness. But not enough not-Max-ness, really. And Luke Wilson shows up to take some very amusing verbal abuse.

So no, it’s not my favorite Wes Anderson movie. Not close. But I can see why people ride for it. It’s funny, nasty, alive, and far less precious than a lot of what came after. I just think it asks for an awful lot of patience with Max Fisher, who is less lovable eccentric than tiny unchecked menace. Still: great soundtrack, great energy, great dad. That counts for a lot.