Now we will demonstrate the orchestration of Wes Anderson's piece, "Moonrise Kingdom." First, several subtle panoramic shots will establish the metronome of family life. Then several jump shots will establish the bass-line of camp life. Then comes the melody — a runaway flute and electric guitar.
For the next hour, harps, cellos, violins, guitars, ukulele, banjoes, woodblocks, B3 organs, tubular bells, vibrophone, piano and glockenspiel will search for, find, and lose the flute and electric guitar. If you listen carefully, you will see the different parts each instrument plays, and how they enter exactly on beat, perform their part, and exit. Then the cymbal, piati, snare drums, tympani, and 16 baratone bass singers, erupt into a violent storm that breaks the variations, but not the theme.
as usual, Anderson delivers a delightfully self-aware, self-disciplined story that (while precisely constructed and stiffly executed) manages to symbolize deep, universal emotions. for me, this ability to evoke emotions in the audience, without expressing emotion through the actors, sets Anderson's work apart. watching Anderson's films is like watching the visualization of Shakespeare's insight "all the world's a stage, and we but players." rather than delude us with pretenses of realism, he delivers authentically artificial stories that always ring true.
which leads me to my lingering questions:
are the children the theme? or variations on the adults?
or are adults are merely the variations of their child-selves?
is the family the theme and the child the variation?
or the child the melody and the family the metronome?
if you figure it out, let me know