Hey all, this is Noah again. It’s been several years since I have typed up any sort of movie review, so bear with me throughout this. Off the bat, I wanted to say that I don’t really see this as a “review.” I’ve never taken a film class in my life, and I really have no right to judge any movie on its technical aspects, or even on its performances or writing. I have, however, seen many, many movies, and I think I have developed some skill in saying why I do or do not like them. It’s not like I’m an idiot either, I have a pretty solid understanding of what makes a movie “good” or “bad.” Honestly though, I’m not super interested in film criticism. I love discussion, and I love hearing people talk about things they’re passionate about. Well, this movie fits that second criteria for me, and maybe this short essay will be able to spark a discussion or two. So, let us begin.
I was inspired to write this review based on the careless words of a friend uttered during a recording of Podcast: The Motion Picture: “I don’t like Rushmore.” My stomach flipped. My heart sunk to the ground. Not because my friend had outed himself as an idiot, that much had been clear for years. I had such a visceral reaction to these words because someone I know and care about had seen this same movie I have seen around twenty times in my life (and rewatched again last night) and did not feel the same things I do from it. Rushmore, to me, is the perfect movie. It is wholly unique, outrageously funny, and full of heart. Plus, it’s only 93 minutes long, which is so incredibly refreshing when compared to today’s film landscape. Before we go any further, its’s probably time to name drop the man, the myth, the idol of every hipster boy with circle-rimmed glasses, a Newport in hand, and a jacket with at least eleven pockets strewn about it— Wes Anderson.
Yeah, I have that hipster boy inside of me too. What I mean to say is that I am a massive Wes Anderson fan. Watching an incessant number of movies throughout your life means that some of them can get pretty boring. When I’m watching Wes’s films, I’m almost never bored. Yeah, I said almost. Lookin’ at you French Dispatch. The fact of the matter is that Wes Anderson tells his stories with a voice unlike anyone else, and I have massive respect for that. Rushmore, to me, is the best example of a Wes Anderson picture that is dripping with personality without that originality compromising the story being told. This is not a case of style over substance, this is a film where both come ringing through. The soundtrack of somber 70s music reaches right into my soul, the ever-symmetrical Anderson shot composition is starting to take form in this film, and the heightened reality of the movie lets you know you’re living in a world of fiction, but one that feels incredibly lived in. Wes’s personality is everywhere in this movie, but it’s not the forefront of it, and that is one of the aspects of Rushmore I appreciate most.
Let’s turn now to the cast. This movie has two of my all-time favorite performances— Jason Schwartzman as Max Fischer and Bill Murray as Herman Blume. Trying to put into words the way I feel about both these characters and the performances that brought them to life was daunting enough to make me nervous to write this essay. But then I realized, I could also just say to watch the movie and see for yourself. As Max Fischer, Schwartzman humanizes a character that should be much larger than life. Max isn’t trying to be liked by everybody, but he is desperate to find a place where he belongs. He talks throughout the film about his “Rushmore,” the thing that gives his life meaning— and I’m not sure he ever finds it. But, by the end of this movie, I feel as though he no longer needs one— he has become at peace with himself. Schwartzman is hilarious, sympathetic, and at times, completely despicable, and he walks that line with incredible grace, even more impressive given that this was his first feature film role.
This was not Bill Murray’s first film. Odds are, you’ve seen the guy in something else. I love Bill Murray so much, I wrote a poem about him for my poetry course at UMD. I’m not kidding, it was actually the first poem I wrote in that class. This is my favorite of his performances, and it’s not close. From the chapel speech in the second scene of the movie: “take dead aim at the rich kids,” to sitting in Budweiser swim trunks and listlessly throwing golf balls into the pool at his goonish sons’ birthday party, self-loathing has never looked so likable as Herman Bloom. If nothing I have said about this film has made you want to see it so far, I implore you to watch it for Bill Murray. I also want to shout out Olivia Williams, Seymour Cassel, and Brian Cox, all of whom are delightful and add to that heart I mentioned earlier. The character work in this movie is really something else.
I may have not done a good enough job at articulating why this movie has held a place in my all-time list since I was 17 years old. The truth is, it can be difficult to say what that factor of a movie is that makes it go from really good to truly special. I guess, to me, Rushmore is a uplifting movie. It takes heavy themes— loss, loneliness, the inability to fit in— and looks at them through such a whimsical lens, you almost don’t know what you just watched until hours, maybe even days after you’ve seen it. Rushmore blends heart and humor in a way few films can for me. It’s worth mentioning too that Rushmore is Anderson’s second film and wasn’t made for much money. It’s a movie that’s always made me think “God, I wish I could have made that,” without the main limiting factor being the budget. It’s that Wes had a story here that no one else could’ve told, and he did it perfectly. I look forward to the next time I see Rushmore, whether I’ve had a bad day and need cheering up or I’m showing a new friend a movie I can quote start to finish. It’s always been there for me, and for that, I thank it. If you’ve never seen it, do yourself a favor. If it’s been a while, watch it again. It’s even better than you remember.