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Movie Review: The Life Aquatic

 

Bill Murray was the main reason I loved movies when I was growing up. His hilarious irreverence and intelligent deadpan came to stand for everything I believed creative endeavors should encompass. He starred in three of my favorites: Ghostbusters, Meatballs, and Caddyshack. And though he wasn’t in other films I loved (like Star Wars, The Wizard of Oz, and Clue), I was and still am confident the presence of Bill Murray could only have made those movies better. Come on, he’d be a great Scarecrow.

I am not alone in my worship of Bill Murrary, but surely I was the only American teenaged girl to whom Willem Dafoe was a dazzling sex symbol. Him playing Jesus in The Last Temptation of Christ was sorely tempting to me. Sargeant Elias in Platoon still serves as my blueprint for that sex robot I’m gonna build someday. And as Bobby Peru in Wild at Heart, Willem revealed just how dirty-nasty he could be.

 

Oh Jesus! You are a God!

Oh Jesus! You are a God!

 

 

Given my devotion to these two actors, you can imagine how excited I was that they were both featured in The Life Aquatic (with Steve Zissou), the latest Wes Anderson flick. Ah, but age can be cruel.

 

So you want a plot summary? Look elsewhere, because I don’t have the energy to explain all the little storylines that Wes Anderson slapped together. Watching the movie distracted me from watching the movie. 

I’ll admit, Wes Anderson has style. His attention to detail is impressive. Just check out this movie’s IMDB Trivia page so you too can bask in all of the little In jokes that you would never know otherwise. Anderson is also very good at subtly establishing long-running gags; throughout A Life Aquatic, we see a bunch of unpaid interns being systemically brutalized. 

However, Anderson’s preciseness with the little things may distract him from tying it all together. He’s like a poet who writes words that sound pleasing together, but overall suffers from a dearth of depth. The Life Aquatic was all over the place, and after awhile I got tired of it. Too much wackiness. Too little sustenance.

If anyone can make a movie good, it’s Bill Murray. He lifts mediocre movies to the realm of delightful, like What about Bob? and even The Man who Knew Too Little, which I believe he should have won an Oscar for. Though Murray was a shiny spot in this movie, even he is powerless among a way-too-motley assembly of way-too-wacky characters, plowing through an unfocused, lame script.

The soundtrack by Mark Mothersbaugh (who has done the soundtrack of several Wes Anderson movies as well as hundreds others) was excellent. I was genuinely joyous to hear the original Iggy Pop version of “Search and Destroy” instead of some lame cover. The music even worked when it bordered on whimsical, which is more than I can say for Owen Wilson.

I can see how many people would like this movie. Perhaps my salivating anticipation of this movie ruined it, but somehow it just didn’t gel for me. And Willem with a German accent just ain’t Willem, though the tight shorts were appreciated. Yow-za!

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