Rushmore (1998)
QFS No. 120 - The invitation for August 30, 2023
We return to Wes Anderson, he of the recent Asteroid City (2023) and of QFS No. 59, The Darjeeling Limited (2007), making this the second of his films to be selected for QFS. Which is among the highest honors of cinema.
Rushmore is Anderson’s second film and I’d argue this is the one that really planted his flag on the film world’s map. His first film Bottle Rocket (1996) is terrific, was an indie darling, and introduced him and Luke and Owen Wilson to the world. But Rushmore gets a bigger cast, a wider release, and is a stronger film in many ways.
I saw Rushmore at the State Theater in Ann Arbor when it first came out while I was in college, and I remember really liking it but also being slightly puzzled about why I liked it. This was the first movie by this new filmmaker that I’d seen, and I vividly remember the marketing attempting to portray this as a comedy. It’s funny, for sure, but it’s not the kind of humor that plays well in short television spots.
On future viewings, I realized that this wasn’t intended to be funny or conventional and I started to understand more about the unique voice and style of Wes Anderson – who I’ve grown to love as a filmmaker. The other day I was saying that I can’t remember when was the last time I’ve seen Rushmore and lo and behold! It’s playing in Greater Los Angeles! In Eagle Rock, and to be exact at the new Vidiots.
A brief word about Vidiots. Vidiots was a beloved DVD rental store in Santa Monica near Santa Monica High School – the kind of store that both filmmakers and non-filmmakers could love. Mainstream titles next to obscure movies. New releases and films divided by director instead of only by subject. Truly a film lover’s place run by film lovers – the place LA deserved as the world’s movie capital. Vidiots suffered financial difficulties like all rental places did with the advent of streaming and converted to a nonprofit foundation model to stay alive. They still ended up having to close up the Santa Monica shop. But with financial help they kept their video stock in storage and the foundation kept the Vidiots spirit alive.
Like a proper Hollywood zombie, they rose from the dead, took over an old theater in a suburb on the complete other side of Los Angeles from Santa Monica, and opened their doors earlier this year. Not only do they rent movies, but they now screen them as well. They’ve just utterly exploded in popularity this year – every single screening is sold out before an enthusiastic crowd and they’ve revitalized a commercial section of Eagle Rock just in the few months they’ve been open. There are scant few good stories about the theater going experience and the motion picture industry in general these days, but this is truly a happy one. I stopped by the new spot a little while ago just to check it out, but this will be my first time seeing a film in person at the resurrected theater attached to the resurrected video store.
I think seeing Rushmore at Vidiots is a perfect way to start watching films at this new venue. Watch Rushmore however you can we’ll discuss next week!
Reactions and Analyses:
Since Rushmore (1998) came out, we’ve had more than two decades of films by Wes Anderson. This, perhaps, set my expectations in a particular way. Anderson’s style has been parodied and mimicked, a style that seemingly has always been defined as “quirky.” His use of flat space, center-framed, direct-to-the-camera looks from his characters and their manner of speaking, the editing - all that artifice can have the effect of keeping a viewer at arm’s length. Something to admire, but rarely to connect on an emotional level.
I say this because I was surprised at my reaction to watching Rushmore for the first time in at least a decade. For me, Anderson’s work has recently favored style over substance and it’s hard to remember that this wasn’t always the case, that his filmmaking was once new and novel. Rushmore moved me in a way I had not expected or had remembered from the times I watched before. Perhaps it has been overshadowed in my mind by The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) where we see the director’s style blossom full scale and continue onward. I’d argue that The Royal Tenenbaums is the first real “Wes Anderson Film” where he’s unshackled, has a large budget, and no one is impeding his directing.
Rushmore is much more sweet than I remember and has something to say about loss, about loneliness and dealing with both of those without healthy tools to do so. There’s a sweetness to it - bittersweetness, even - that I hadn’t remember and didn’t give Anderson credit for at the time. Of his live action films, it’s a contest between Rushmore and Moonrise Kingdom (2012) to be his most poignant and sweet. There’s a somewhat happy ending, after all - Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman) dances with Rosemary (Olivia Williams) and has an actual girlfriend (Sara Tanaka as “Margaret Yang”).
On Letterboxd, I read Sean Fennessey of The Ringer call Rushmore “the best movie about a sociopath.” This is entirely possible. A QFSer added to that, saying Max is “Ferris Bueller but a dick.”
However true this might be, it’s also entirely possible that Rushmore Academy was not the perfect school of Max. I know for a fact that there are schools on the Westside of Los Angeles that encourage ambitious, driven students who may not succeed in academics but flourish in project-based learning. (I’m not saying these schools would necessarily approve the building of a research aquarium on its grounds, but they probably wouldn’t have kicked out Max for that level of ambition.) The editorial cut from Dr. Guggenheim (Brian Cox) saying “He’s one of the worst students we’ve got” and then it goes into the montage of all the things Max does at school - it shows what’s valued in this academic environment. He might be full of crazy leadership energy, but he’s failing all the learning from books. (He even dreams that his skill in calculus is on par with his extra-curricular ambitions.)
Speaking of montages, it’s time to honor Wes Anderson as one of the true masters of montages. He’s in a category all his own. Between the Max’s clubs-and-groups montage that introduce the character and the montage where Max and Herman Blume (Bill Murray) are battling each other and it escalates - truly fantastic. There’s a real art to getting the montage right and Anderson does do it a lot in all his films. But in Rushmore, they are masterful. Funny, advancing the plot or character development, spot-on music choices. Having put together montages myself I can tell you there’s definitely an art to them. They can go on too long or feel frivolous or have the wrong music choice. There are so many ways to abuse them, but Anderson uses them to near perfection.
It’s no wonder that one of Anderson’s inspirations is The Graduate (1967). Mike Nichols has a montage of Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman) having an affair with Mrs. Robinson (Anne Bancroft) that spans time and space, editing from one location into another, all to the music of Simon and Garfunkel. Anderson undoubtedly studied this extensively. Throw in Hal Ashby’s offbeat humor and relationship in Harold and Maude (1971) and the student journey in 400 Blows (1959) and you get the origins of Rushmore and the mind at its helm.
Max’s journey is pretty fascinating in the film, both in its content and its structure. He goes from an ambitious student who, except for his grades, is an ideal representative of Rushmore Academy. He loves the school and gives it all of his time, falls in love with the new teacher Rosemary Cross (Olivia Wilde), befriends Blume a wealthy parent, inadvertently starting a rivalry over Rosemary’s affection. He gets kicked out of the one place he loves and then, finally, resurrects himself - both emotionally and academically at the public school - at least enough to use his ambition to produce a massive stage production at his new school that helps bring Rosemary and Blume together.
What’s there to make of a journey like this? It’s not rooted in realism, but there’s an emotional core in Rushmore. He lies about his sexual exploits with a parent, he hides the fact that his mother’s died, he lies about his father’s profession and that he has simple, middle class home and life outside of Rushmore. So he’s a sociopath, sure. But he’s lonely and his primary existential crisis, I believe, is that he’s ordinary. So he does whatever he can to be extraordinary (other than study, apparently). It’s teenage melancholy, not angst, that Anderson concerns himself with. And boy, is that refreshing.
Anderson benefitted for coming up through the golden age of independent film in the 1990s. Bottle Rocket (1996), though excellent, does not necessarily suggest giving someone enough money to make Rushmore. But this was an odd blip in the long history of the American film industry where money to finance small, personal independent films was actually out there. Perhaps not on par with the 1970s, and not that it was easy, but there were some great character driven, auteurist fare being produced by mainstream studios and their offshoots. (Personal note - I started my career at the tail end of this era when money for indie films was drying up everywhere so I know this time period first hand.)
In our QFS discussion, I asked whether people think Rushmore is a landmark film. By that I meant - is this a film that you can say demarks a change in either the film industry, directing, the visual medium, etc? One way to tell is by copycats. In the era this film came out, I consider Pulp Fiction (1994) in that category. Not a year went by for a long time where there weren’t a dozen other movies with smart-talkin’ pop-culture quoting hitmen or unnerving violence in a mainstream film or something that played with structure and time the way that movie does.
By that definition, Rushmore might be in the “landmark” category, though QFSers were mixed on that point. There were certainly spoofs and mimics and perhaps a handful of copycats. I remember one brutal review of Napoleon Dynamite (2004), calling it “a Wes Anderson cover band.” I’m not sure if there was a wave other than that of knockoffs. He’s one of a kind - one of the only people working today who you can say “a Wes Anderson Film” and you have a genre unto itself.
And while The Royal Tenenbaums sprouted into the first of this singular genre, Bottle Rocket was its seed and Rushmore its seedling. It was a joy to rewatch that seedingling again and know that a bright future was ahead for one of the true auteurs in American cinema.