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DVD Review: BOTTLE ROCKET
(BLU-RAY)

Studio: The Criterion Collection
Year: 1996
Cast: Owen Wilson, Luke Wilson, Robert Musgrave, James Caan, Lumi Cavazos, Andrew Wilson
Director: Wes Anderson
Release Date: December 16, 2008
Rating: R for language, brief violence
Run Time: 01h:31m:00s
Genre(s): comedy

Anthony: Maybe we should've robbed your house, you ever think of that?
Dignan: You know there's nothing to steal from my mom and Craig! - Luke Wilson, Owen Wilson

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Wes Anderson has developed into a love-him-or-hate-him filmmaker, but it's hard not to be won over by his first attempt, especially when watching it on Criterion's excellent Blu-ray release.

Movie Grade: A-

DVD Grade: A-

Wes Anderson's films are so tonally consistent and stylistically rigid, it's hard to believe there was ever a time when they weren't a known commodity. From Rushmore to The Darjeeling Limited, we know a new Anderson picture means lots of stately widescreen frames loaded with visual detail, a soundtrack full of vintage pop, and a minimum of one slow-motion montage every 20 minutes. Whether you love his aesthetic or wish he'd loosen up and try something new (I waffle based on which film I'm watching), it's nice to revisit the one film on his resume that remains as fresh as ever. Not coincidentally, it's his first.

Bottle Rocket tells the story of an aimless group of friends who wander into a life of crime. Idea man Dignan (Owen Wilson, never more suited to a role, or a role to him) figures a few years of criminal exploits position him and his best friend Anthony (Luke Wilson; the two aren't playing brothers) to embark on a 75-year life plan, which Dignan has carefully written out in his journal. That his plan begins with breaking Anthony out of a voluntary mental hospital where he's been saying does not bode well for its viability.

After their first robbery—of Anthony's parent's house—goes fairly well (helps when you have the keys), they enlist Bob (Robert Musgrave) as a getaway driver (because he's the only person they know with a car) and carry out a needlessly elaborate hit on a local bookstore. Convinced they are wanted bandits, the crew holes up in a highway motel, where Anthony develops an interest in Inez, one of the maids, and Dignan prepares for phase two, which involves associating themselves with small-time criminal and landscaper Mr. Henry (James Caan), who spends his free time studying kickboxing and is very happy to show off his skills.

All the hijinks lead up to perhaps the most elaborately planned, poorly thought out heist in movies, and you can't help but notice that you're watching a bunch of adults acting like children at best, and total idiots at worst, but you can help but like all of the characters, who are escaping into a "glamorous" life of crime to escape everyday doldrums, from depression to cruel, taunting siblings.

Originally produced as a 10-minute short film that drew attention at Sundance, Bottle Rocket is a remarkably assumed debut. Anderson and Wilson's script has such a distinct voice, and real affection for its collection of misfit characters—particularly Dignan, whose self-assured posturing is matched only by his desperate need for attention. While Anderson's direction shows some signs of the hermetically sealed worlds he'd create in later films (the titles are even in that familiar font), his touch is far lighter, allowing the quirky staging and stylistic flourishes to take a backseat to the story, rather than drive the movie ever deeper into Anderson-ville. It might seem odd to condemn a director for too rigid a commitment to his vision, but Anderson's later movies—particularly The Life Aquatic—are so constructed, they seem sapped of genuine feeling. Bottle Rocket is bursting with it.

The DVD: This isn't the kind of movie that screams "Blu-ray," but I can't argue with the fact that the transfer looks very nice, and is certainly a vast improvement over the fuzzy flipper DVD released a decade ago, offering a crisper, brighter image with increased detail and an entirely different look (supervised by Anderson and director of photography Robert Yeoman). The image is very detailed, with saturated colors that, for the first time, really show off the color palette I've come to expect from a Wes Anderson picture. There is a smattering of visible grain in some darker sequences, but it's clearly inherent to the source material, which is free from scratches and dirt.

Though the film is light on action and heavy on dialogue, Wes Anderson makes great use of vintage pop songs, and this newly-produced DTS-HD 5.1 mix carries them well. Dialogue is always crystal clear and natural, and the soundtrack has real punch.

The fourth of Wes Anderson's films to join the Criterion Collection, this one is loaded with about as many extras as you could ask for to go with the by now familiar hand-drawn cover art and menus. It goes without saying that this single-disc Blu-ray includes all the extras of the two-disc standard edition.

Owen Wilson and Wes Anderson start things off with an audio commentary that is, frankly, a bit of a snooze. They spend most of the movie recalling banal details about where scenes were filmed or complaining about the test screening process. The two aren't in the same room (Wilson is on the phone), and I think the separation hurts their conversation. Might be worth it if you've seen the movie a million times.

The Making of Bottle Rocket is a 26-minute talking head feature (in HD) with comments from Anderson, the Wilsons, producer James L. Brooks, and the supporting cast. It's a fairly brisk piece, covering the film's genesis as a short that played Sundance, Brooks' decision to produce it as a feature, and the two-year process of test screenings and reshoots. Audition footage and clips of deleted scenes spice things up a bit.

Speaking of deleted scenes, there are 11 of them, running a combined 20 minutes or so. Some of the material is superfluous, but the scene that explains why Bob's brother is referred to as "Future Man" wouldn't feel out of place in the final cut.

Three short films grow increasingly weird and less relevant to the feature. The obvious inclusion is the 13-minute, Sundance-screened, Hollywood-impressing Bottle Rocket short film, presented in grainy HD black-and-white. It mirrors the film's beginning, through the second robbery (which we hear about instead of see), and features the same quirks as the longer version, minus some visual flair. The short gets its own selection of "miscellaneous" extras, a gallery of photos and storyboards and an invoice that shows you how much it cost to assemble.

The Shafrazi Lectures, No. 1: Bottle Rocket is a 10-minute lecture from New York gallery owner Tony Shafrazi on why Bottle Rocket is the best movie ever made. For all I know, the guy is genuine, but the piece plays like Anderson's self-mocking response to Martin Scorsese naming the movie one of the 10 best of the 1990s.
br> I have no idea what's going on with Murita Cycles, a 27-minute short from Anderson pal Barry Braverman (who also put together The Making of...). Made it 1978 and apparently a huge influence on Anderson and Wilson, the film chronicles the life of Braverman's father Murray, who runs a junk shop in Staten Island. Full of oddly uncomfortable intimate moments, it's certainly the most unusual special feature I've seen in quite a while.

Back on topic. The Anamorphic Test is a few minutes of footage shot in 2.35:1, the aspect ratio Anderson initially planned to use (and has employed to detailed effect in his subsequent films). It's an interesting "what if." Storyboards collects Anderson's hand-drawn storyboards for nearly every scene, while a photo gallery gathers images snapped throughout the production by Laura Wilson, mother of Owen and Luke.

It wouldn't be a Criterion release without a handsome insert with an essay or two, and this time around we get contributions from no less than James L. Brooks and Martin Scorsese. The booklet is otherwise a treat, recreating in full Dignan's "75-year plan," glimpsed briefly early in the movie.

About the only thing missing is a trailer, if only to show how a Hollywood studio attempted to market this oddball caper—even bad trailers can be interesting (Chungking Express).

Posted by: Joel Cunningham - June 18, 2009, 8:59 pm - DVD Review
Keywords: wes anderson, owen wilson, crime, twee