Matt, Bill and I went to see the Darjeeling Limited yesterday (complete with Hotel Chevalier screening before the feature).
I adored it.
I'm a proven sucker for dysfunctional family flicks, that's already a given (I can watch Little Miss Sunshine to no end). That combined with Anderson's absolute love affair with color and composition -- I'm in heaven. It's gorgeous. I don't claim to be a film critic in any fashion, so I won't attempt to write my own synopsis. So to steal a bit from imdb.com:
"Three American brothers who have not spoken to each other in a year set off on a train voyage across India with a plan to find themselves and bond with each other -- to become brothers again like they used to be. Their "spiritual quest", however, veers rapidly off-course (due to events involving over-the-counter pain killers, Indian cough syrup, and pepper spray), and they eventually find themselves stranded alone in the middle of the desert with eleven suitcases, a printer, and a laminating machine. At this moment, a new, unplanned journey suddenly begins."
Aside from the visual attraction (both stylistic and Schwartzman), this Anderson film got to me more so than any of the others I've seen. I mentioned this to Matt after the movie, over baked potatoes at Wendy's and he seemed a bit surprised and asked why that was.
"I guess I get a story about carrying around your parent's baggage."
While it doesn't sound it, that is in no way depressing. It's therapeutic to see someone else go through it, even if it's just fictional. Maybe it'll take a train ride through India to patch up the all-too battered relationship between myself and my own sibling.
"I wonder if the three of us would've been friends in real life. Not as brothers, but as people." - Jack Whitman, The Darjeeling Limited
I wonder that too. But lately, it seems like the answer would be "no".
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