I’m going to begin by mentioning that I’m not
a Wes Anderson fan. Obviously, I can’t refuse some of the more
hilarious moments of Rushmore (especially by a brilliant Bill
Murray), but from Bottle Rocket to The Royal
Tenenbaums to the exceptionally lackluster Life Aquatic With
Steve Zissou, I feel that Wes Anderson is way too much Whit
Stillman and not enough Woody Allen. Yeah, yeah –
Anderson only produces The Squid and the Whale while Life
Aquatic co-writer Noah Baumbach takes over screenplay and
directing duties – but I’ll be damned if The Squid and
the Whale doesn’t play just like a Wes Anderson movie with
a whopping helping of insecure adolescent pathos. We get the same kind
of precious music choices (“Hey You” by Pink Floyd is
exceptionally overused here) and a similar perspective on humankind
(no one is perfect, everyone is heavily flawed, no one ever forgives
anyone for anything). It’s an Anderson movie.
The
film is based on Baumbach’s own life. We watch two brothers,
Walt and Frank Berkman (Jesse Eisenberg and Owen Kline), whose parents
are dueling writers, Bernard and Joan (Jeff Daniels and Laura Linney),
trying to manage their careers while their marriage literally falls
apart at the seams. But unlike his far more successful Kicking and
Screaming, The Squid and the Whale has a shocking lapse
of earnest expression. Baumbach’s dialogue is snappy and fresh
and his characters are all exceptionally complicated, but this film
has all the warmth and smartness of a David Mamet play; it’s all
rhetorical dialogue bells and whistles and no subtext whatsoever.
My friend and fellow cineaste Ryan and I slogged through
The Squid and the Whale trying to justify its presence on
multiple 2005 top ten lists. It did take home a few Sundance prizes
and even got a screenwriting Oscar nomination, but even though Ryan
has a lot more affinity for Wes Anderson and Wes Anderson-like films,
neither of us could penetrate it. The long and the short of it is that
The Squid and the Whale is unique and smart, but I really
don’t think it’s very good.
Complicated characters are fantastic, but I absolutely
hated each and every denizen of Baumbach’s
autobiographical world. Laura Linney’s philandering mother
figure is hollow and stubborn. Jeff Daniels’ Bernard Berkman is
the kind of competitive emotional robot who would provoke even the
most slightly sensitive boy to cry like a girl. And both of the boys,
caught in the emotional maelstrom of their parents’ divorce, are
little hooligans who either express an exceptionally off-putting
pomposity or wipe his semen all over books and school lockers (yeah
– it’s that kind of American Beauty movie).
I don’t mean to say that there aren’t aspects
of Baumbach’s film to applaud. Daniels and Linney are
virtually pitch-perfect in their roles as opposing ex-lovers, but I
still found The Squid and the Whale to be as sniveling as it
was savvy, as skin-deep as it is funny. Like Wes Anderson’s
work, it has the pedigree of a full-fledged winner, but if an audience
simply wanted to watch a pair of New York bohemians treat their
asshole children with disdain and frustration, there are about a
trillion reality-TV shows we could pop on instead.
Just
because it has that glistening Sundance/Wes Anderson pedigree
doesn’t mean that it has much to offer.
The
Video: How Does The Disc Look?
Even for a low-
budget feature, there’s an exceptional amount of grain on this
1.85:1 anamorphic widescreen transfer. You can tell from the start,
when the Samuel Goldwyn logo comes on to the screen, that something is
simply off, and the transfer never quite recovers from there.
There’s a shocking amount of grain in the print (it’s
unknown whether it’s purposeful or not). Black levels fluctuate
wildly. Color saturation isn’t a huge issue. But finely grained
detail definitely suffers. It’s a shame.
The
Audio: How Does The Disc Sound?
The Dolby Digital
5.1 mix is more than adequate; it couples the film’s
excellently-recorded dialogue with a nice array of effects and
atmospherics and a competent placement of music cues. The mix is not
very complicated or complex, but it utilizes surround tracks far more
often than one might expect and with impressive fidelity, to boot.
Also included are a French Dolby Surround track, English and
French subtitles, and English Closed Captions.
Supplements: What Goodies Are There?The
audio commentary is just as pretentious and by-the-
book as the movie. Director Noah Baumbach complains that he
doesn’t want to do a full screen-specific audio commentary
because he doesn’t want people to have to watch the movie again
(he certainly doesn’t like it when he’s forced to do
that). Instead we get a 51-minute audio essay of sorts that places
Baumbach’s voice over a sequence of stills from the movie (yeah,
that’s a lot less boring than just watching the movie
again). His thoughts are pretty thorough, but as Baumbach says, if
there was anything more that could have been added to this very
personal film, he would have put it in. For die-hards only.
The 37-minute conversation between author Phillip
Lopate and Baumbach allows Baumbach to cover exactly the same
material he dissects in his commentary. The only difference is that he
has Lopate telling him how brilliant he is. Snore. The ten-minute
featurette about the making of the film is slightly
more revealing, but not by much (at least we get to hear Laura Linney
and Jeff Daniels speak for themselves). Lastly, there is a load of
trailers for: Capote, The Dying Gaul, It’s
All Gone Pete Tong, Junebug, London, Pretty Persuasion, Saint Ralph,
The Exorcism of Emily Rose, The Tenants, Thumsucker, and
Where the Truth Lies.
Final
Thoughts
Baumbach (and Wes Anderson) obviously
have their fans, so if you think that this writer is full of himself
and isn’t looking at their oeuvre with the appropriate
perspective, this DVD of The Squid and the Whale is for you.
There’s a great sound mix, to be sure, but video quality is
disappointing, and Baumbach’s exceptionally self-serving
commentary soils an already underwhelming bonus features section. If
you’re curious, I recommend a rental. For all others, proceed
with caution.