DVD Spotlight: The Darjeeling Limited

Wes Anderson’s The Darjeeling Limited appeared on DVD last week, and it’s a perfect example of one of the down-sides to this cinema-blogging thing: in keeping up with my fellow bloggers, I learn way too much about films before they even open. In the case of Anderson’s film, I learned that critics were almost universally underwhelmed when it premiered at Cannes, so I was presupposed to be disappointed. Then the same thing happened when it opened in the states: although it received a 68% Tomatometer reading, it turned off many of the critics I respect.

You have to understand: I was quite the Wes Anderson fan after The Royal Tenenbaums. After seeing that movie, I doubled back to re-view Rushmore and discovered the delightful, low-key Bottle Rocket. I thought I’d found a rising talent: quirky, playful, and post-modern, and I couldn’t wait until his fourth feature. I loaded up the wife and kiddies into the minivan and headed down to the multiplex in Crescent City, and then . . . thud! The Life Aquatic fell on us like a ton of bricks. It was long and rambling, and repeated many of Anderson’s devices — the stage-like presentation, the diagrammatic explanations of the action — that seemed fresh in the Tenenbaums, but here only tired and cloying. Even Bill Murray seemed miscast as its wholly unlikable, Jacques Cousteau-like protagonist.

I tried so hard to like The Life Aquatic, viewing it again when it appeared on DVD, but I couldn’t manage it. And once burned, twice shy (or something like that), so when Darjeeling opened, I was leery; when it seemed from the reports that it was continuing Anderson’s slide into mediocrity, I grieved. And didn’t see it in the theaters.

My mistake — while not a great film by any means, it’s not bad either. Surely better than Life, although not quite up to Tenenbaum or Rushmore status. The acting by Owen Wilson and Adrien Brody is excellent as two of the three brothers Whitman; as the third, Jason Schwartzman doesn’t irritate me quite as much as usual. Brody, in particular, has hang-dog depths of sadness well-suited to Anderson’s peculiar brand of melancholy. The rest of the cast is fine, including a t00-short appearance by Angelica Huston as the brothers’ mother.

The star of the show is India — Anderson and cinematographer Robert Yeoman lovingly capture all the dusty splendor and bright, primary colors of that huge country. Production designer Mark Friedberg devised a meticulously constructed set that allowed them to shoot on a moving train, and it shows: the scenes on the train (the Darjeeling Limited of the title) feel absolutely authentic.

There are problems, however. The film’s central incident is a bit too pat. After being ejected from the train, the Whitmans are hoofing it in the back-country when they come across a tragedy in the making. Three boys — one for each of the brothers — are trying to cross a stream when the pull-rope raft they’re using breaks. The brothers manage to rescue two of them, but lose the third. When they attend the boy’s funeral, it brings up suppressed memories about the the death of their father.

The sequence is heartfelt and full of emotion, a genuine departure from the ironic Anderson distance. The problem is, in the context of the film’s overall structure, it feels like what it is — a device to bring the brothers together, to make them a family again. Some of the supporting characters seem like contrivances as well, especially the beguiling Amara Karan as the hostess Rita, who is there simply to illustrate a plot point about Jason Schwartzman’s character. When her job is done, so is her character, and she disappears from the film.

Still and all, The Darjeeling Limited stands as an extremely personal statement, informed by Anderson’s unique — if not perfect — qualities and sensibilities. In these days of mass-produced junk, where the lowest common denominator is pandered to in favor of the highest possible return, how can that be a bad thing?

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DVD details: The DVD, from Fox, contains the film in its original 2.35:1 aspect ratio, and is enhanced for 16×9 televisions. There are only two extras on the disc: The Hotel Chevalier, a short Anderson shot to play before the feature, is a fine film in its own right, and provides additional back-story about Schwartzman’s character. The other is a twenty-minute “making-of” featurette that’s a cut above most. It provides real insights into Anderson and company’s work habits and shooting style.