‘Asteroid City’ Film Review
by William Lindus
At a certain point, one should know what to expect from a Wes Anderson film. After all, his visual and narrative stylings have been sharpened and honed to such a fine point that they are both singular and beyond comparison, while also easy enough to recognize so as to be endlessly parodied in social media trends. Asteroid City is no different; if you understand the Wes Anderson playbook, you understand what to expect from this film about a hodge-podge of quirky characters trapped in a small desert community in 1955. But understanding the thing doesn’t necessarily make it predictable, and this is the magic of Wes Anderson; he presents the familiar in a way that is wholly unique and meticulously crafted in a way that even the finest of parodies can’t quite capture.
In what might be his strongest work since The Grand Budapest Hotel, Wes Anderson crafts Asteroid City through a series of framing devices. We begin with a television program, hosted by Bryan Cranston, about a stage show that in itself is about the making of a theatrical production that is, at its fourth meta layer, about the small desert outpost of Asteroid City itself. While the previous layers are in black and white, it is in this layer that we find the world exploding in color, with turquoise and rust orange color palettes blanketing every scene. Anderson has an eye for color and the way it conveys narrative themes, and here, we see the unrelenting heat of the desert sun set in contrast to the liberating turquoise found in the sky and in the structures that dot the landscape.
It is in this clash of yearning to break free and being so worn down by life that we find our cast of melancholy screwballs trapped. After a gathering of the 1955 Junior Stargazers draws four brilliant child inventors (and their put upon parents) to Asteroid City for an awards ceremony and a chance to tour a crater research center, a strange happenstance occurs which leaves the group of relative strangers under quarantine by the United States government.
Of note are Augie Steenbeck, a wartime photographer that Jason Schwartzman embodies with an understated grief after the death of the character’s wife only a few weeks prior. He is accompanying a trio of rambunctious daughters and a teenage son named Woodrow (Jake Ryan, Eighth Grade), all of whom he has neglected to tell about the death of their mother - though Woodrow has his suspicions. Woodrow himself is one of the four genius Stargazers being celebrated at the gathering, and he finds himself around peers - people who he understands and who understand him - for possibly the first time in his life.
In the neighboring hotel room is Scarlett Johannson’s Midge Campbell, a movie star with the charm of Grace Kelly and the sensuality of Marilyn Monroe. Midge is in town with her daughter Dinah (Grace Edwards) - another Junior Stargazer - and between rehearsing scenes for upcoming performances, finds a connection with Augie.
Rounding out the cast is a cavalcade of stars, some new to Wes Anderson, some regular players. Dynamite, scene chewing performances are turned in by Tom Hanks, Jeffrey Wright, Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Tilda Swinton, Maya Hawke, Sophia Lillis, and so, so many more. What truly marvels is the fact that each of these characters has their own conflict to wrestle with, all having to balance the unrelenting chaos that surrounds their lives - they do live in a Wes Anderson movie, after all - with the longing for calm, focused control that always seems just out of reach.
Asteroid City goes to some absolutely batshit crazy places, with turns that will be purposefully omitted from this review. Suffice to say, this is a Wes Anderson film that will play well to Wes Anderson fans. But it might also be the Wes Anderson film that most appeals to Wes Anderson detractors.
4 out of 5 Bear Paws