Question: Can a two-bit, chiseling, psychopath and bully of a con man (Royal O'Reilly Tenenbaum) be re-born late in life as a human being?
Answer: Only in the movies.
Specifically, in this movie. I have seen such con men try to "be real," but it always turns out to be just another con.
Wes Anderson built his movie on this unlikely -- make that impossible -- premise. He created an alternate universe, where a con man can be healed by love. There is a note of poignancy here, as if there were a psychopath in Anderson's own life, perhaps his father, whom he hoped would some day change. This cannot happen in real life, con men never change, so Anderson went ahead and made it happen on screen.
And he did it well. As a straight drama this story would have been unbearably bleak. But as surreal fantasy with comedic structure, it tells it like it isn't -- a modern fairy tale rooted obliquely in the absurd, a fantasy of a world that only superficially resembles our own. Think of it as an intergenerational Amelie.
The Royal Tenenbaums is clever, well cast (except for Bill Murray, who seems in a hurry to leave), superbly executed, and fully engaging. At least it was to me.
On the other hand I can understand not liking this movie, especially if one is still susceptible to psychopaths (hint: if you watch Dan Rather, Peter Jennings, Tom Brokaw, or Ted Koppel, you're susceptible to being conned).
Hey, Hey, Hey! Wake up! It is OK not to be conned. The emperor really has no clothes. You have permission to stop being a victim. Turn around and walk away.
In my business I daily encounter antique collectors who have been conned repeatedly, and usually it is because they cannot admit the possibility of being conned, so they just go along and make up a rationale for why it's not a con, when of course it is.
Etheline Tenenbaum gets it. You can too.
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Answer: Only in the movies.
Specifically, in this movie. I have seen such con men try to "be real," but it always turns out to be just another con.
Wes Anderson built his movie on this unlikely -- make that impossible -- premise. He created an alternate universe, where a con man can be healed by love. There is a note of poignancy here, as if there were a psychopath in Anderson's own life, perhaps his father, whom he hoped would some day change. This cannot happen in real life, con men never change, so Anderson went ahead and made it happen on screen.
And he did it well. As a straight drama this story would have been unbearably bleak. But as surreal fantasy with comedic structure, it tells it like it isn't -- a modern fairy tale rooted obliquely in the absurd, a fantasy of a world that only superficially resembles our own. Think of it as an intergenerational Amelie.
The Royal Tenenbaums is clever, well cast (except for Bill Murray, who seems in a hurry to leave), superbly executed, and fully engaging. At least it was to me.
On the other hand I can understand not liking this movie, especially if one is still susceptible to psychopaths (hint: if you watch Dan Rather, Peter Jennings, Tom Brokaw, or Ted Koppel, you're susceptible to being conned).
Hey, Hey, Hey! Wake up! It is OK not to be conned. The emperor really has no clothes. You have permission to stop being a victim. Turn around and walk away.
In my business I daily encounter antique collectors who have been conned repeatedly, and usually it is because they cannot admit the possibility of being conned, so they just go along and make up a rationale for why it's not a con, when of course it is.
Etheline Tenenbaum gets it. You can too.
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