Moonrise Kingdom

To say that Wes Anderson is both detailed and blissfully random understates his skillfully unique storytelling mode.  Anderson has, over his many films, indicated areas of obsessive interest in family and the finely nuanced conveyance of  both detail and surprise as means of narrative.

In Moonrise Kingdom, his attentive obsessions reach a new peak of delight, dark humor, and poignancy.  Bob Balaban is our gnome narrator.  The camera tracks sideways to reveal interiors of homes, scout tents and local views.  Our alternative narrator is a guided recording of the musical families of an orchestra, which becomes both commentary and counter-point to the eccentric families that we meet: the Bishops, Frances McDormand and Bill Murray (both quietly hilarious), and the Khaki Scouts, headed by a wonderful Edward Norton. Bruce Willis is understated as Chief of Police.  He is an action figure dappling in inaction until action becomes necessary and compelling.  Tilda Swindon as Social Services takes a great turn in Salvation Army blue uniform, and is clearly having fun.

The warmly yellow light, varying scales of lighthouses, specific scout badges and the tender depiction of romance between two very serious 12 year olds (excellent Jared Gillman and Kara Hayward) add up to an immensely enjoyable romp through family systems, enduring friendships, and wilderness skills (with a record player, many books and a lovely hot dog picnic).  Tents are zipped from inside and outside, plaid is everywhere, including the interior of tents and one cross, many pajamas and robes and pairs of pants.  Plaid is a complex intersection of color and pattern, detailed and rich, just like this lovely and very fun film.