The Royal Tenenbaums

Melancholy comedy from Wes Anderson.

The Royal Tenenbaums, the 2001 film written and directed by Wes Anderson, is one of my favourite films.

I saw it in the cinema when I was 15. I barely remember watching it, but I remember enjoying it. And I remember the feeling of going to see it. It was at the “art house” cinema in town, so my friends and I had to catch a train to go and see it. It all felt very grown up. Little did I know how long the film would stick with me.

I’ve watched it countless times in the ensuing twenty-something years (oh god oh holy fuck I’m dying time never ceases how the fuck has it been over twenty years) and I’ve loved it every time. I literally just finished another viewing as I sit here typing this.

The Royal Tenenbaums is about the Tenenbaum family. Royal (Gene Hackman) is the head of the family. Or, he was. When the film begins, Royal is very much estranged from the rest of the family. The rest of the family being his wife Etheline (Anjelica Huston) and his children Chas (Ben Stiller), Richie (Luke Wilson) and his adopted daughter Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow). And then there are the people orbiting the Tenenbaums; long-time family friend and author with a drug problem, Eli Cash (frequent Anderson collaborator Owen Wilson, who co-wrote the film), Margot’s exasperated husband Raleigh St. Clair (Bill Murray, another frequent feature in Anderson films), and finally family accountant and suitor to Etheline, Henry Sherman (Danny Glover).

The Tenenbaum children were all once considered child geniuses. Chas was a successful businessman at a very young age. Margot wrote plays. Richie was a tennis champion. But that’s all long gone. Now they’re all dysfunctional and failing in one way or another. Chas’ lost his wife in a plane crash and is spiraling into a pit of anxiety and paranoia. Margot is depressed, locking herself in the bathroom for weeks on end. Richie’s career imploded and he’s traveling the world, running from his problems.

That does not sound like the set up for a comedy. And yet, The Royal Tenenbaums is a very funny movie. It may not be full of belly laugh jokes, but it is full of a strange, melancholic observational comedy. You laugh with the characters as you empathize with their strange pain.

Or not, if you don’t “get” the whole Wes Anderson thing.

Because Wes Anderson is one of those love ‘em or hate ‘em directors. He has a very, very distinct style. All his characters have a detached melancholy to them. Everyone is reserved, holding back how they truly feel. His films also feel strangely timeless. They all kind of feel like they take place somewhere in the 1960s, in a fantastical world that only exists in books. Everything is very particular, refined, with an oddly formal tone. The art direction is always impeccable, full of muted colours and pastels. The shots are more often than not symmetrical and satisfyingly framed.

But, like any strong style, it’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. I could easily imagine people finding his style suffocating, or too detached, too upper-class weird, too pretentious… but luckily I’m not one of those people. I can’t get enough… generally speaking. Because to be honest, there have been a few of his more recent films that have gone too far for me (I’m looking at you, The French Dispatch).

The Royal Tenebaums was Anderson’s third film, and occupies a common sweet spot in a director’s career. Their early films, where their style is already apparent but still being formed and has yet to turn into a parody of itself. The Royal Tenenbaums is to Anderson, what Pulp Fiction is to Quentin Tarantino. It is full of many of the typical aspects of Anderson’s style; the symmetrical framing, the melancholic performances, the indie music sound track, the pastel colours, the costumes that make you guess as to what decade it is. But it’s also rough enough around the edges that Anderson’s style isn’t suffocating it.

There’s a strange crackle to the film. It has something I often think of as “great movie” energy. There is just an x-factor that so many truly great films share. An energy to the performances, to the filmmaking, where even “mistakes” somehow just flow and work into the feeling of the film. There are scenes that, taken out of context, might feel clunky, but somehow they work. For example, the scene where Margot goes to meet with Richie at the bus station. The line readings from Gwyneth Paltrow are kind of stilted and odd… and yet it works.

The scene is full of Anderson-isms; Characters framed symmetrically dead center of the shot, the wistful music, the strangely precise background action (the perfectly spaced row of men in white behind Richie), the effective use of slow motion, the strange slightly stilted dialogue that somehow hints at something deeper… it just works. Everything feels so precise. So considered.

And then there’s the performance by Gene Hackman. This is the performance that I consider the swansong for a great actor. Technically, it wasn’t his last performance —that was Welcome To Mooseport, a forgettable comedy he did with Ray Romano — but The Royal Tenenbaums feels like the final, proper Gene Hackman performance. And it’s a doozy.

Royal Tenenbaum is a liar, a cheat, a fraud, a bad husband, a terrible father. He’s even pretty openly racist in a strange, old timey kind of way. Basically, he’s an asshole. Or as one character puts it, “I don’t think you’re an asshole, Royal. I just think you’re kind of a son of a bitch.” But Hackman is so charismatic in the role, you can't help but root for him. Even if you’re not rooting for him to succeed, but to change.

In a way, Hackman’s performance sticks out from the rest of the film, while fitting perfectly in it. The character, and performance, is kind of chaotic. There’s a rebellious mischievousness to it. Especially when compared to the detached formality of most of the other characters. Like so much of this film, it feels like it shouldn’t work, it shouldn’t fit… but it does.

The Royal Tenenbaums is a melancholy film full of broken people struggling through life. And somehow, it makes me smile.