Tuesday, March 12, 2013

I listen to the wind: the music in Wes Anderson films (part 2)


Rushmore (1998)

The music of the 60's is Wes Anderson's big love. Its frequent use in his films lends at his characters an air of nostalgia and innocence. 
Nowhere this is more evident than in Rushmore, arguably Anderson's most revered film; the music is such a vital element on it that apparently in certain cases Anderson had already chosen the music he wanted for specific scenes prior to the finalisation of the scene itself. 
The main music concept is quintessential 60's Britain: Stones, Kinks, Who, Faces. 
The songs in Rushmore work as a mirror revealing the personality of teenage protagonist Max Fischer (played wonderfully by Jason Schwartzmann); he definitely could be a textbook character out of a Ray Davies song. 

"Making Time" - The Creation
This is history-making stuff. The now famous "extra-curricural activities" sequence uses the psych-pop 1966 track from the relatively unknown English band to introduce wunderkind schoolboy Max Fischer. 




"A Quick One While He's Away" - The Who
An excerpt from The Who's first foray into rock opera, this is as classic Wes Anderson as it gets: the masterful "revenge" sequence where nerdy, quirky Fischer faces his arch rival Herman Blume (a spectacular Bill Murray - his career resurrection really started here). When Fischer comes out of the elevator in slow-motion full of teenage braggadocio, it seems to echo the legendary entrance of De Niro in the bar in Mean Streets with the Stones' "Jumpin' Jack Flash" playing. It's that good.  
 


"Ohh la la" - Faces
The last song on the last Faces album is a bittersweetly funny tale about the futility of the belief in romantic love, as told from a sensitive male's perspective: "I wish that I knew what I know now when I was younger / love is blind and you're far too kind / don't ever let it show" sings the late Ronnie Lane. 
And what a fitting song to end this similarly bittersweet gem of a movie: Max Fischer, though still hopelessly in love with his schoolteacher (a never-more-beautiful Olivia Williams), has realised the sad truth that he cannot be with her and so he's ready to move on with his life. But there is a price to pay: in a way he has become more emotionally mature now, but he has lost his innocence (or naivety) in the process. This is a sad message of the film, in that in order to move on you need to leave your silly, naive teenage romantic notion about love behind. The song starts at the three-minute mark but the scene must be seen from the beginning. 
One of the complaints in Anderson's body of work is that he seems to opt for style over substance; this scene is a glorious proof of the opposite.






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