As a Wes Anderson loyalist who is tired of seeing his style corrupted by AI programs like ChatGPT and Midjourney, I was more than excited to see his eleventh feature film, “Asteroid City,” on the big screen. Not only is “Asteroid City” Anderson’s most soulful live-action film since “The Darjeeling Limited,” but it also exists as a reminder that artificial intelligence will never be able to capture the intricacies of what makes his style so special.
“Asteroid City” tells a story within a story. When the film begins, we aren’t immediately welcomed into the bright fictional desert town of Asteroid City. Instead, the image is in black and white and features an old school 1.37:1 aspect ratio. A television host (Bryan Cranston) speaks directly to the audience, informing us that what we’re about to watch is a televised version of the play “Asteroid City.”
Interspersed between the play’s three acts are moments that depict the creative process behind the play’s creation. We follow the playwright (Edward Norton) as he recruits actors and deals with writer’s block as well as the director (Adrien Brody) who is going through a divorce and lives in the play’s set.
Most of the film’s runtime is spent depicting the televised play. In it, we follow a cast of eccentric characters who have gathered for Asteroid City’s Junior Stargazer and Space Cadet Convention. Although the film features a massive ensemble cast, Jason Schwartzman plays the central character: Augie Steenback, a war photographer who’s struggling to make sense of the world in the wake of his wife’s death.
Other standouts include Scarlett Johansson as Midge Campbell, an actress who’s always rehearsing; Tom Hanks as Augie’s father-in-law; Maya Hawke as June, a teacher who struggles to corral her students; and Margot Robbie who is simply credited as The Actress.
“Asteroid City” is, without a doubt, Anderson’s most alienating film. The unique color grading and story structure may isolate audiences unfamiliar with his style, but the film’s pathos offers a unifying perspective on themes like grief and existentialism.
Some have called the film self-serving, but I believe the introspection in “Asteroid City” reveals a vulnerability that hasn’t been explored in Anderson’s previous works. Anderson is almost giving us a glimpse into his own psyche, as he asks questions about the validity of art as a means of coping with grief and expresses frustration about pursuing art in a nihilistic society.
But “Asteroid City” isn’t all doom and gloom. In fact, it’s far from it. The film has a delightful sense of humor, the type that only Anderson’s league of regular actors could translate for the screen. Anderson has never been very fond of realism when it comes to the look of his films, but “Asteroid City” adopts a new whimsical style.
Ray-guns, animated roadrunners and a stop-motion alien played by Jeff Goldblum are just a few of the fantastical elements sprinkled throughout. But, as with any Wes Anderson film, the story remains emotionally grounded.
There’s a scene in “Asteroid City’s” third act that keeps playing on a loop in my head because it feels so desperate and deeply human. The actor who portrays Augie in the play abruptly stops the scene to confront the play’s director. The actor doesn’t understand why Augie made a certain character choice, but the director doesn’t offer him closure. Instead, he tells him to “just keep telling the story.”
This line encapsulates everything that Anderson is trying to say, and it’s why this may be his most hopeful film yet: the world doesn’t owe us answers about our existence, or anything for that matter, but we can try to find comfort in the unknown. We just have to keep telling the story.
