Three decades into his career, Wes Anderson continues to be the rare filmmaker who never misses. Even the work that has been viewed as less successful, like 2021’s anthology The French Dispatch, are enjoyable and authentic portraits of life. The beloved auteur returns with his 11th feature, Asteroid City, a wonderful rumination on grief that is undoubtedly his best film since The Grand Budapest Hotel.
Asteroid City opens on a black-and-white studio set in a boxy aspect ratio, where a TV host played by Bryan Cranston introduce the film as a stage play, presented by legendary playwright Conrad Earp (Edward Norton) and a company of New York actors led by Jones Hall (Jason Schwartzman) and Mercedes Ford (a stellar Scarlett Johansson). The movie seamlessly jumps back and forth between this meta narrative and the small fictional desert town of Asteroid City (population: 87) circa 1955. It’s here that we meet Augie Steenbeck (Schwartzman), a recently-widowed war photographer unsure how to tell his children about the death of their mother three weeks prior, who is driving his family to a Junior Stargazers convention, where his brainiac son, Woodrow (Jake Ryan), is set to be one of five teen prodigies receiving prizes for their unique inventions.
In typical Anderson fashion, the film features a rich ensemble of characters who bicker, bond, and grapple with existential dread as they wait tirelessly for a sudden U.S. Government lockdown prompted by extraterrestrial activity to be lifted. Johansson, a fresh face in the director’s work, plays Midge Campbell, an Elizabeth Taylor and Marilyn Monroe-esque Hollywood star preparing for a new role as she accompanies her daughter, Dinah (Grace Edwards), to the convention. Tom Hanks plays Augie’s father-in-law and Steve Carrell is a multi-tasking motel manager, while Maya Hawke and Rupert Friend respectively play a science teacher and handsome cowboy who develop a romantic connection. Rounding out the cast are the director’s regular collaborators, including Tilda Swinton, Jeffrey Wright, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, and many more.
Every actor, even those in minor roles like Margot Robbie, perfectly embodies their character’s eccentric personality and fits within the whimsical world that Anderson has crafted. The new members of Anderson’s troupe, like Hanks, Hawke, and Matt Dillon, fit like a glove. Schwartzman, who has regularly appeared in Anderson’s work since 1998’s Rushmore, makes a memorable return to the spotlight and nails the blend of melancholy, loneliness, and humor of his character.
Penned by Anderson and Roman Coppola, the screenplay is a poignant and precise exploration of human emotion, striking a perfect balance between the action in the desert and the challenges faced by the New York theater company as they try to bring the play to life. Very few films attempting to portray the experience of quarantine have managed to successfully emerge during the pandemic, but here Anderson achieves the impossible by capturing the mixed feelings lockdown conjures with a light touch.
The framing device and structure of the story, which sees actors like Johansson playing actors who are playing actors, builds layers of depth. Boasting all of Anderson’s signature flourishes, like a pastel color palette and symmetrical compositions, every dazzling frame of this carefully-crafted film, shot by longtime cinematographer Robert D. Yeoman, resembles a postcard from 1950s Arizona. Oozing with the typical Wes charm and quirkiness yet never feeling detached, Asteroid City ranks among the director’s saddest, most profound work to date.
With much talk about AI-generated imitations of Anderson’s work on social media, which fail to recognize the originality and narrative intricacies underneath his visually-pleasing aesthetics, Asteroid City is a reminder that his distinctive style and approach to storytelling cannot be replicated.
