There seem to be two camps on Wes Anderson -- those who think Wes Anderson represents the paragon of indie culture, and those who think Wes Anderson represents the primer example of elitist, insubstantial filmmaking. Both camps, however, seem to be unhappy with Anderson's newest film, The Darjeeling Limited -- the latter because it exists and the former because of Anderson's uneasy and perhaps over-pronounced union with Apple and the "intrusion" of more mainstream Hollywood players such as Natalie Portman and Adrien Brody.
Regardless of which camp you fit into, you will be happy to know The Darjeeling Limited can satisfy you if you are willing to let it. The film still adheres strongly to the Anderson aesthetic and deals with familiar themes, but it also ventures into newer emotional and thematic territory so it doesn't feel like simply rearranging old hats. Anderson even teases the critics of both camps by poking fun at himself and playing off the preconceived notions that people might have going into the film.
The Darjeeling Limited focuses on three brothers traveling through India by train in an attempt to rediscover themselves after the sudden and devastating death of their father. The film begins with a segment that is almost a second introductory short film (the first being the prelude Hotel Chevalier available on iTunes) featuring Bill Murray desperately trying to catch a train. As it becomes obvious that he is not going to make it, the film goes into its first trademark slow-motion shot and Adrien Brody suddenly bursts on screen behind Murray to catch the train and watches as Murray is left behind. This short segment serves as a layered metaphor. The most accessible meaning at the time is self-reflexive -- Anderson playing on expectations. One would expect that Murray, an Anderson actor and character regular, would be featured prominently in this new Anderson film, but instead, he is surpassed and then physically left behind by the new Brody. Here, Anderson is very much saying goodbye to old tropes and is attempting, like the brothers, to move on but with mixed results. The irony and humor comes from the fact that this goodbye to past-Anderson is done by using a filmic technique people have come to identify as a directorial trademark: a slow-motion shot with music from the British Invasion (this time the Kinks).
In terms of filmmaking, the film can be divided into two sections -- the section on The Darjeeling Limited train, and the section after the brothers are kicked off the train. The section of the film that takes place on The Darjeeling Limited train is very much like a film from Anderson's previous repertoire. Characters are depressed about something in the past, yet are unhappy/hiding from the present by trapping themselves in familiar routines, all the while occupying a quasi-artificial train set. The train segment deals with the undeniable authenticity of shooting on location in India. That being said, the genuineness of India is sort of left in the background and hidden until the brothers are willing to accept it. For the first half of the film, there is a sense of three extremely wealthy brothers imposing themselves on India with a laminated itinerary for spiritual development and servants to carry their baggage.
The intended point of this trans-subcontinental train ride is to help the three brothers deal with the death of their father, yet their so called spiritual journey seems to only be another distraction from his death and their grief. Their first spiritual pit-stop begins perhaps with genuine intentions but then turns into a fight between the brothers and then devolves into a mass shopping spree. Despite their best attempts to move past their father's death by abandoning themselves to distraction, all three brothers seem obsessed with death. Owen Wilson's character Francis intentionally runs his motorcycle into the side of a mountain; Brody's character Peter purchases the most poisonous snake in India as a pet; and Jason Schwartzman's Jack is trapped writing "fictional" short stories centered around a father's death. Eventually, the brothers' pettiness and refusal to move on has them expelled from the train. In a last-ditch effort at spirituality, they attempt a bonding ritual with peacock feathers, but they are more concerned with the ritual itself than the meaning behind it.
In their most bitter state, one of the brothers spots three Indian children attempting to cross a river and says "Look at these assholes." Here is a mirror image of the three brothers -- three Indian boys trying as hard as they can to cross a river but unable to move forward because of the current flowing against them. In a way, the three brothers are watching themselves, and the classification of themselves as "assholes" is readily apparent. The parallel is made more evident as the rope they're holding on to suddenly snaps and each brother claims a child to save from the dangerous current. Peter, however, is unable to save his before both of them are thrown onto the rocks below where the child is killed and Peter emerges bleeding and carrying the child's body.
The death of this child is the pivotal moment of the film and parallels that of the father's death. This time there is no escaping from the death and grief. The brothers are taken to the village, but there are no actions or activities in the village that allow the three brothers to avoid the boy's death, only the funeral preparations. Additionally, the emotional outpouring of grief from the boy's father about his son's death throws into contrast the lack of grief the brothers allow themselves to show or admit for their own father.
Eventually, the three try to leave the village but are called back and invited to the funeral. Mourning is what they need, what they try to escape and what they are eventually called back for. Here the brothers are no longer imposing themselves on India, but are invited to be there. Their father's funeral and the present funeral of the young boy collide with the slow-motion shot and then flashback. The flashback sequence centers around their father's funeral but is not so much about that death as it is the sons' actions and distractions. The entire scene is a flurry of movement spent trying to achieve symbolic resurrections of their father's car and their failure to do so. Instead, they leave the auto shop with figurative and literal baggage from their father. This flashback is contrasted with the previous slow-motion long shot. Time slows down, leaving nothing else but the funeral. Actions are stilted and movement is not rushed and hurried, but free and graceful. Rather than accumulating baggage, there is a release as Jack sets free flowers over the boy's body and they float back to earth.
This true spiritual moment prepares them for the encounter with their mother, who has also escaped to India after her husband's death. Rather than be disappointed at how the events turn out, they seem to sense that the originally intended pseudo-spiritual meeting is not the resolution they need. Instead, they repeat the spiritual ritual with the peacock feathers. The ritual is filmed in one take to represent their wholeness. Even though there is only one feather among them, and it is technically not done correctly, the meaning is finally there.
Finally, as the three decided to continue their journey together, the brothers run to catch a final train, and here is where the second meaning of the Bill Murray metaphor comes to fruition. Jack cries out, "Dad's bags aren't going to make it!" and in what is probably the most cathartic shot of Anderson's career, the three brothers toss away their father's baggage in the final slow-motion shot and catch the train. At the beginning of the film, Bill Murray, the symbol of the brothers' aged father and perhaps even the symbol of Wes Anderson's previous films, is passed up and doesn't make it on the train. Finally, at the end of the film, the brothers are able to let go of their father's luggage and fully leave him behind to start a new point in their lives. Similarly, if viewers can leave behind their preconceived baggage of what a Wes Anderson film is or should be, they will find The Darjeeling Limited may not be a spiritual journey, but it is definitely an enjoyable one.