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Lester Burnham, a depressed suburban father in a mid-life crisis, decides to turn his hectic life around after developing an infatuation for his daughter's attractive friend.
Upon admittance to a mental institution, a brash rebel rallies the patients to take on the oppressive head nurse, a woman he views as more dictator than nurse.
Director:
Milos Forman
Stars:
Michael Berryman,
Peter Brocco,
Louise Fletcher
Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane's successful attempt to assemble a baseball team on a lean budget by employing computer-generated analysis to acquire new players.
Director:
Bennett Miller
Stars:
Brad Pitt,
Jonah Hill,
Philip Seymour Hoffman
Set on an island off the coast of New England in the 1960s, as a young boy and girl fall in love they are moved to run away together. Various factions of the town mobilize to search for them and the town is turned upside down -- which might not be such a bad thing. Written by
Production
During the closing credits, the voice of a young person introduces various instruments as they join in playing a song - an obvious reference to the records played in the Hayward home. This method of spoken introduction has however also been used outside of education recordings, such as in the obscure 1967 song "Intro and Outro" by the Bonzo Dog (Doo-Dah) Band where atypical and strange instruments are introduced as played by unusual and unlikely musicians (such as John Wayne and Adolf Hitler), and in Mike Oldfield's seminal 1973 work "Tubular Bells" where Part One is concluded by Vivian Stanshall as "Master of Ceremonies" crediting one by one the instruments used earlier in the piece. Co-incidentally, tubular bells are listed as part of the deconstruction of the Desplat piece. See more »
Goofs
An overhead shot of the police station wagon driving across the island shows a smooth top and just the red light. In later shots, the station wagon has a rack on the top and a siren in front of the red light. See more »
Quotes
Suzy:
I know what you do with that sad, dumb policeman.
Laura Bishop:
[long shocked stare]
He's not dumb... But I guess he is kind of sad.
See more »
In the past, Anderson has whirled us from melancholy dreamscapes set deep below the Pacific to tales of inter-generation betrayals in the name of love, from doomed romances in Paris hotels to deliriously bizarre animal revolutions in the English countryside. But for all the retro-stylings his films so proudly wear, Moonrise Kingdom is Anderson's first period piece - a tender love story set in the sepia-soaked sixties of Anderson's youth that have worked their influence into every one of his movies. It is fitting that this film is his most childlike - not in any way any simpler than his other films (as anyone with an accurate memory of childhood will remember all it's complexities; the way each trivial thing became a nest of thorns), but an accurate and deeply heartfelt depiction of childhood. It is not aiming to be as crushingly dramatic as Life Aquatic or as deeply tragic as Hotel Chevalier, because that wouldn't be appropriate for the story it's trying to tell. Instead, while still bearing Anderson's still surprising streak of black humour (some acts of violence really catch you off-guard; then again, children are violent so hats off Wes), it is largely concerned with the dramas and tragedies of youth. Yes, it is less ambitious than say The Life Aquatic but it also has none of the flaws that that film does (and believe me, I am a massive Steve Zissou fan). Instead, it is perfectly executed, wonderfully acted poignant beauty, with fantastic performances across the board (especially from newcomers Gilman and Hayward). This, while not his most ambitious, is certainly Anderson's most perfect work so far. You owe it to yourself to see this movie.
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In the past, Anderson has whirled us from melancholy dreamscapes set deep below the Pacific to tales of inter-generation betrayals in the name of love, from doomed romances in Paris hotels to deliriously bizarre animal revolutions in the English countryside. But for all the retro-stylings his films so proudly wear, Moonrise Kingdom is Anderson's first period piece - a tender love story set in the sepia-soaked sixties of Anderson's youth that have worked their influence into every one of his movies. It is fitting that this film is his most childlike - not in any way any simpler than his other films (as anyone with an accurate memory of childhood will remember all it's complexities; the way each trivial thing became a nest of thorns), but an accurate and deeply heartfelt depiction of childhood. It is not aiming to be as crushingly dramatic as Life Aquatic or as deeply tragic as Hotel Chevalier, because that wouldn't be appropriate for the story it's trying to tell. Instead, while still bearing Anderson's still surprising streak of black humour (some acts of violence really catch you off-guard; then again, children are violent so hats off Wes), it is largely concerned with the dramas and tragedies of youth. Yes, it is less ambitious than say The Life Aquatic but it also has none of the flaws that that film does (and believe me, I am a massive Steve Zissou fan). Instead, it is perfectly executed, wonderfully acted poignant beauty, with fantastic performances across the board (especially from newcomers Gilman and Hayward). This, while not his most ambitious, is certainly Anderson's most perfect work so far. You owe it to yourself to see this movie.