Asteroid City

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Jason Schwartzman, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Hanks, Jeffrey Wright, Tilda Swinton, Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Adrien Brody, Liev Schreiber, Hope Davis, Stephen Park, Rupert Friend, Maya Hawke, Steve Carell, Matt Dillon, Hong Chau, Willem Dafoe, Margot Robbie, Tony Revolori, Jake Ryan, Grace Edwards, Aristou Meehan, Sophia Lillis, Ethan Josh Lee, Jeff Goldblum
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

The style vs. substance debate that's followed Wes Anderson throughout his career again rears its head with Asteroid City, an ambitious effort from a very distinctive filmmaker sure to split critics and audiences down the middle. He must be used to it by now, considering how each new release is accompanied by conversations about how Andersonian it really is. For rabid devotees, there's no such thing as too much, whereas just a couple of minutes is more than enough for the harshest detractors. But even as his singular aesthetic still prompts accusations of superficial repetitiveness, few contemporary directors have amassed a body of work so instantly recognizable. No matter what you think of it.  

For all the SNL skits or viral video spoofs, making a Wes Anderson picture is a market he'll always have cornered because there's an underlying sincerity to what he does that no one's been able to duplicate. Even when the execution seems like a parody of itself, there's more there. It's especially true of his best efforts like Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, where style and substance overlap in character-driven stories that go to deeper, rawer places many feel he hasn't returned to since. The jury's still out on where this one lands, but it's definitely a departure of sorts. Or at least as much of a departure as we've gotten from the divisive director in a long time. 

The film's retro futuristic desert setting is a hugely impressive visual achievement brought to surreal life by Robert Yeoman's cinematography and Adam Stockhausen's production design. But there's also a meta layer that distinguishes it, as a stacked cast pulls double duty in both a black-and-white TV documentary special of a play and the play's events, presented in vibrant color. It's also a pastiche of postwar Americana, UFO paranoia and old Hollywood moviemaking that further explores the themes of grief and ostracization constantly present in Anderson's output. In other words, there's a lot to unpack.

The film opens in black-and-white as a TV host (Bryan Cranston) introduces renowned playwright Conrad Earp's (Edward Norton) production of "Asteroid City," a play that takes place in a fictional 1955 desert town of the same name. In it, war photographer Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman) arrives with his intellectual teen son Woodrow (Jake Ryan) and three daughters at the Junior Stargazer convention where Woodrow is being honored. But Augie's inability to tell the kids of their mother's recent death complicates his already fragile relationship with curmudgeonly father-in-law Stanley (Tom Hanks). 

Also in town is Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson), a famous, melancholy actress whose teen daughter Dinah (Grace Edwards) is also being recognized at the convention. Among the other attendees are elementary school teacher June Douglas (Maya Hawke) and her class, a cowboy band led by a singer named Montana (Rupert Friend), the brilliant but eccentric astronomer Dr. Hickenlooper (Tilda Swinton) and five star General Grif Gibson (Jeffrey Wright). 

When a major extraterrestrial event inexplicably occurs during the awards presentation, the U.S. government frantically intervenes to contain the site and quarantine witnesses in town. We're also shown glimpses of the TV special detailing the play's evolution, as the actors struggle to make sense of their roles, most notably Schwartzman's Jones Hall, who helplessly turns to director Schubert Green (Adrien Brody) for creative guidance.

It isn't clear where the story's going for much of the first forty minutes, or even if it's headed in a direction that would set it apart from what we've already seen from Anderson. And despite his penchant for attracting huge names, the involvement of Hanks and Johansson doesn't necessarily signify we're in for something especially unique, as sometimes even the biggest stars have taken back seats to the framing and visual presentation of his pictures. And this one is mind-blowing, shot by Yeoman with a bright, oversaturated artificiality that recalls 50's Westerns like Bad Day at Black Rock. 

As usual with Anderson, the actors dryly deliver their lines with a kind of detached bemusement that almost implies they're playing imitations or mockeries of themselves. Only the real kicker this time is that they actually are. The "play within a play" conceit allow the actors to carry aspects of their performer's uncertainty toward the material into the actual roles, adding an important contextual layer. This works especially well with Schwartzman and Johansson, who delicately depict Augie and Midge's ambivalence toward each another, dancing around their feelings before eventually connecting on a deeper level. Schwartzman's nuanced turn has you wondering why he isn't cast more often as a lead while Johansson perfectly captures this moody, morose Hollywood starlet with an edge. 

Once the UFO event unfolds with the appearance of a wacky looking alien, the script's characters really start to wrestle with various forms of loneliness and uncertainty. And like many Anderson films, it celebrates the quirky outsider, as the Junior Stargazers are far more tuned in and observant than any of their parents, scientists and especially government officials. Those Moonrise Kingdom vibes are definitely present in Woodrow and Dinah's relationship, while the film still manages to incorporate an endless parade of well known faces without it coming across as a stunt.

Hanks, Hawke and Swinton make the most impact with what they're handed and even the smaller parts occupied by Hope Davis, Liev Schreiber and Willem Dafoe humorously fill out the corners of this bizarre world. If there's a true highlight, it's Margot Robbie's sensational single scene opposite Schwartzman, which ties the movie's metaverse in knots to gain invaluably greater insight into Augie and the actor who plays him. Most assumed Hanks' cranky part was originally intended for Bill Murray, but the latter was actually cast as Steve Carell's motel manager before having to pull out. Regardless, Hanks puts his own spin on Stanley and Carell's tiny role would likely be a waste of Murray anyway. 

From the moment an entertainingly deadpan Cranston appears on screen channeling Rod Serling in a Playhouse 90-style special, it's apparent we're in for a rarer breed of nostalgic escape than Anderson usually delivers. A single viewing of Asteroid City won't determine its ranking in his filmography or win over doubters, but much of what the trailer hinted at pans out with Anderson flair, again making it difficult to separate the filmmaker from his creation. But like these characters, we'll just have to accept that understanding everything isn't the goal, or really even necessary at all.