"Bob's gone! He stole his car!"
Have you ever been separated from your friends or family at the supermarket and had to be summoned via overhead speaker, because "your party" was waiting for you? You duck your head, pretending it isn't you, pretending you just wanted to saunter to the front of the store at just that moment. But you know they know. Everyone knows. Why did you leave your cell phone in the car?
Well, if you had seen today's overlooked classic, the Wes Anderson-Owen Wilson-Luke Wilson cherry-popper, Bottle Rocket, you could have spared yourself the shame of hearing your name mispronounced on that Whole Foods loudspeaker. Because then, had you been faced with flaxseed on your right, quinoa on your left and friends nowhere around you, you would have known the solution. Just call out, "Ca-CAW, ca-CAW!" Your friends, who in this scenario are no less classy than you, will find you just fine.
The magically quotable moments of this offbeat buddy caper begin with birdcalls and don't end until the credits roll. As Rope of Silicon has noticed before, Bottle Rocket is a classic. Based on the Sundance short film of the same name, also starring the AWW trio (that's Anderson, Wilson and Wilson), the feature-length Bottle Rocket showcases these three dark comedy pros at their finest. And I like The Royal Tenenbaums as much as most Anderson fans do -- "That's a trick; you don't have a middle name." -- but I'll argue now why the best of Anderson may very well have been his first attempt. Though if you're not an Anderson fan, know this: Bottle Rocket is not like Anderson's later works. Yes, still co-written by Owen; yes, still technically a commercial failure; yes, still placing his muses in their best light; but trust, their light is one you should gladly stare into, even may your retina burn and burn.
1.) Character names: The names a writer picks for his or her principal characters say a lot. And sometimes they carefully say nothing at all. Look out: Owen plays Dignan. Robert Musgrave plays a guy named Bob. Owen's older brother Andrew plays a guy who goes by the name Future Man -- no explanation. James Caan plays Mr. Henry -- no first name. And Luke plays Anthony Adams, whose last name is akin to the first man on Earth. These names are great, as they carefully set the scene for what's to come. Dignan is unusual, original and yet always trying to stand out; Bob is nondescript and kind of useless, described early on by Dignan as "the zero out in the car." Future Man is threatening; Mr. Henry is a drifter; and Anthony Adams is the Beta-male disguised in Alpha packaging. We'd get it if they didn't say anything. But luckily, they exchange witty dialogue with the sharp repartee that only comes when friends conspire together. Aww... that's so sweet.
2.) The cast: It's the first reason to roll with any indie film whose plot can't easily be explained without grazing a lot of the life out of the story. For instance, on the surface, Napoleon Dynamite could be described as a "slice of life tale about a nerdy teenager who tries to help his equally awkward friend run for class president." Sure, that's it. But who would Napoleon have been had he not been played by Jon Heder? So it is with Bottle Rocket, a film in which, at the time of its making, contained no known names except James Caan, who by this time, had already had three wives, if that says anything. Luke and Owen together are a great comedic balance that I wish happened more often. Throw in another Wilson brother and a guy with worse hair than all three Wilsons combined (that'd be Robert Musgrave as Bob), and you've got greatness. Wouldn't you figure that buddies making movies together make some of the finest weird films? Hence, Nappy D with Heder and homies, the upcoming Mystery Team featuring Derrick Comedy, and today's OG, Bottle Rocket.
3.) Nonsensical plot: "Some friends try to do some robbing and fail repeatedly." That might be the meat of Bottle Rocket, but as intimated above, it does zap a bit of the life from the story. Even to say Bottle Rocket is a comedy isn't enough. With every plot turn, whether it's surprising or predicted, we get a quotable moment written (or ad-libbed) by Anderson and O.Wilson to sum up the action. They rob a house -- and it's Anthony's parents' house. They steal some money -- and they're stealing from a neighborhood bookstore. They plan a big heist -- and they actually think they can accomplish it during lunch, in broad daylight, wearing yellow jumpsuits. It's an hilarious mélange of mixed up scenarios that, with one element changed, would seem utterly normal but, twisted how they are, are uproariously funny. And I'm not talking the funny that you see on the screen, necessarily -- this is funny that you feel. Your brain gets happier with each repeated viewing as you realize things you missed the time before and how the story stayed good anyway. It's one of those films you've got to see in order to understand its layers.
4.) Un-annoying romantic subplot: Another favorite comedy of mine, Wedding Crashers, also stars Owen Wilson. It's f'ing ridiculous good fun. Great dialogue, great characters, great premise, all. But the first half of the film feels surprisingly more upbeat than the latter half, and here's why: Crashers got "romanced." True, almost every film featuring a cast of crass men needs a romantic subplot, for whatever reason (To humanize the men? To anchor in some ladies? To make me roll my eyes?), but problems can occur when that thread takes over the whole quilt. The brilliant nature of Bottle Rocket is that the romance between L.Wilson's character, Anthony, and a motel maid, Inez, remains a subplot. In some ways it is crucial to Anthony's development, but we get the sense he would have been fine with out her. Hence, while Crashers crossed from buddy comedy to romantic comedy, Bottle Rocket retains its bromance angle -- without drowning in testosterone.
5.) Strong finish: There's a moment, a distinct one, in Bottle Rocket, where mentally, with a heavy dose of emotion, I always say, "I... love... this... movie." It's the last two minutes. Dignan walks away from Anthony and Bob, casting a wistful look, leaden with gravitas, over his shoulder, and I'm hit. The music swells, the image slows; I can't look away. There he is, I think. There is Owen Wilson, exposed. I think good movies reveal not only the intent of the writer or the director, but also the intents of the actors -- they're the ones portraying the characters, after all. And when you've got the right actor for the part -- or in this case, when the actor actually wrote most of the part -- a character can take on depth you wouldn't believe. Bottle Rocket may now be a goofy, Saturday afternoon movie to watch between rounds of pot brownies and beer, but in its finish, it becomes a little bit more. Maybe that's why Martin Scorsese names it as one of his top ten films of the nineties. Well, Marty (may I call you that?), so do I.
I don't intend to wax too meta, but the Bottle Rocket story arc in some ways actually parallels the lives and careers of its main stars. The first small caper the men try, they essentially succeed at -- though it was a small job robbing a relative's house. The second is their big win. And after that come mistakes and missteps, Bob as the zero out in the car, some crossed attempts at love, then Dignan contemplating the irony of their story: he was able to save Anthony at the nut house, but now he can't escape the clink. Replace "nut house" with "box office," and "the clink" with "depression," and you'll see where I'm going. This movie is an ode to Owen Wilson, that quirky, secretly nerdy comic, that Beta-male in Alpha-male packaging who keeps on trying to get it right. Well, you got it right, Mr. Wilson. You already got it right.
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