New & Now: Asteroid City

Wes Anderson's best movie (so far) acknowledges the criticisms of his work.

Asteroid City is Wes Anderson’s eleventh film, and it’s unlikely at this point that he’ll attract any more converts to his work. His distinct dollhouse style was adopted at practically the beginning of his career, and if anything, with each subsequent movie his settings seem to get smaller and more self-contained. They’re snowglobes depicting scenes that only somewhat resemble the real world, but aren’t quite fantasy worlds either. Anderson fans love it, his detractors do not, and every time a new project is announced they grumble about more pastels and quirky soundtracks with 60s French pop on them.

With Asteroid City, it’s apparent that Anderson has heard these criticisms, and if not taken them to heart, exactly (because that would suggest he intends to change), has at least considered them. It’s a subtle peek at his creative process and the emotions that go into it, while still keeping a wry, polite distance. It’s a marvelous effort, and the first of Anderson’s movies since The Royal Tenenbaums that brought me to tears.

A 1950s TV host (Bryan Cranston) informs the audience that what they’re about to watch isn’t a movie, but rather a televised production of a Broadway play written by the Tennessee Williams-esque Conrad Earp (Edward Norton). Shortly afterward things switch from the confines of black and white television to searing, oversaturated Technicolor widescreen, to better capture the dubious majesty of Asteroid City, a speck in the Western desert. It wouldn’t even exist were it not the site of an asteroid landing millions of years ago, leaving a large crater in the ground¹. The asteroid itself is only the size of a volleyball, but locked in a cage like it’s a dangerous animal, presumably for dramatic effect.

At any rate, the town has been selected to host the annual Junior Stargazers Convention, an event celebrating the smartest young minds in America. War photographer Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman) arrives in town with his teenage son Woodrow (Jake Ryan), one of said smartest young minds, and three very cute but rambunctious little daughters. The children’s mother has died three weeks earlier, but Augie can’t bring himself to tell them, much to the chagrin of his gruff father-in-law Stanley (Tom Hanks, doing a great salty dad turn). Though Stanley doesn’t like Augie, he’s allowing the whole family to come to live with him, even agreeing to drive to Asteroid City to pick them up when Augie’s car breaks down and is deemed beyond repair.

Also arriving in town are the remaining Junior Stargazers honorees, who are competing against each other for a $5,000 scholarship, and their parents, one of whom is actress Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson). Other convention attendees include June (Maya Hawke), a slightly harried grade school teacher and her students, convention speaker General Gibson (Jeffrey Wright), scientist Dr. Hickenlooper (Tilda Swinton), and a group of singing cowboys led by the laconic dreamboat Montana (Rupert Friend). They’re all crowded into the one (1) motel in town, run by Steven Carell, whose ubiquitous persona masks an opportunistic streak, as illustrated when he manages to talk several guests into buying bogus land deeds out of a vending machine.

It’s the most action² Asteroid City has seen since the actual asteroid, even though Woodrow and the other honorees seem slightly embarrassed about it. Despite the fact that they’re competitors, the teens bond and quickly become friends, drawn together both by their extraordinary intelligence, and by the fact that their parents treat them more as baffling curiosities (like aliens, you might even say) than children. Augie and Midge are also drawn to each other, seeing something familiar in their reserved (almost to the point of impassive) natures, both of which mask a great deal of unspoken pain.

They all expect their time together to be brief — that is, until, in the middle of the award ceremony, a UFO arrives, and its occupant emerges long enough to snatch the asteroid out of its cage before immediately returning to wherever it came from. General Gibson, under direct orders from the President, declares the whole town quarantined, extending everyone’s stays for at least a week, as they’re subjected to a series of psychological and physical tests and unable to reach anyone on the outside.

Occasionally the action (such as it is) reverts to black and white, as we get behind-the-scenes flashbacks of the play’s production. Directed by the volatile Schubert Green (Adrien Brody), there are glimpses of his complicated relationship with his leading lady and his failing marriage, as well as his cast taking classes with famed acting coach Saltzburg Keitel (Willem Dafoe). On opening night, leading man Jones Hall (Jason Schwarztman in a dual role), despite a confident audition, flees in a panic, unsure if he can continue. He confesses to Schubert that he doesn’t really understand his character’s motivation, or even the play itself, asking the question that instills panic in all of us, about everything: “Am I doing it right?”

For Wes Anderson to essentially admit that, even though his movies look like they were designed with tweezers and a magnifying glass, he’s not always sure if what he’s doing is good and “right,” feels strangely more personal than many confessional-style works. Despite the frequent complaints about “style over substance,” Anderson’s films are always about something, but Asteroid City feels (indirectly, at least) like the first movie specifically about Anderson himself, and his insecurity as an artist. It could also speak to his insecurities as a romantic partner or a parent, and for those universal themes to work so well in such a bizarre setting makes it really something special.

Anderson’s most pointed response to the criticism that his films are too emotionally restrained can be found in a conversation between Augie and Midge about their stoic natures. They’re both very emotional people, but refrain from openly expressing them, simply because, as Midge says, “We don’t want to.” Emotions aren’t made any more valid by expressing them loudly and sloppily, and, indeed, the most moving moments here are among the quietest. If Stanley’s stifled, almost swallowed sob while trying to improvise a memorial service for his dead daughter, or Augie’s sad, tired eyes aren’t enough to convey “grief” without gnashing and wailing theatrics, perhaps it’s worth questioning if the problem isn’t with Anderson, but his detractors, and their evident need to have everything carefully spelled out.

Even without any real conflict, at just 100 minutes long the movie just zips right by. Though ensemble pieces often suffer from too many characters and not enough plot to go around, even the minor characters in Asteroid City make indelible impressions, including Woodrow’s fellow Junior Stargazer Clifford (Aristou Meehan), who’s desperate for the approval of his father (Liev Schreiber), one of June’s students, who decides he wants to join the singing cowboys, and handsomely weathered Matt Dillon as the town’s only auto mechanic, who gets the most relatable line in the whole movie with “Everything is connected, but nothing is working.”

Sweetly silly scenes like the stop-motion alien encounter, and a song and dance number, are balanced with subtly devastating moments, like a scene late in the film with Schwartzman and Margot Robbie, playing a character I won’t identify, lest it lessens the impact. The fantastical retrofuturistic elements of Asteroid City aren’t intended as a distraction, or to dress up a plot empty of real feelings and humanity. They’re just a tableau, a new way to present some very familiar experiences. Wes Anderson knows he isn’t going to win over his critics. He just hopes maybe they’ll understand him a little better.

1. That someone at some point put in a single, fenced-in walkway leading to the crater with operating hours listed is one of many subtly hilarious sight gags.

2. Unless you count the bandits who occasionally tear down the highway shooting at the cops pursuing them which, given how little anyone who lives there reacts to it, seems to be a regular occurrence.