For most of our lives, we've been in complex situations because we tend to forget the simple solutions the problem always sought to offer. Calling ourselves the slave of someone's ego will just be an understatement, as we're slaves of our own egos, we distance ourselves from the solutions for that moment of gratification: the 'I am greater' moment, and that has made us what we're today. Unhappy and unhappy. I'd like to meet Wes Anderson and Owen Wilson someday, they're from a place and time where they chose not to grow up, or maybe if they did, they hide it pretty well, because to be a good artist one needs to believe in oneself and put across what he feels. In his last outing (not considering 'Moonrise Kingdom', Anderson somehow denies his fans across the world  the simple pleasure of watching his cinema in places where they've to be seen) with 'Fantastic Mr.Fox', Anderson shows what he's made of, he's a kid who just refused to grow, a kid who chose to live in the mythical land under his bed and fight with magical creatures he made out of the shadows opposite to his bedroom window. The solution to be happy, the way I see it, is accepting things the way they are. We let our so called 'intelligence' take over situations, our intelligence functions the way we tell it to, and the way we tell it, we'd want us to win every time, and every time. But then, that was not the same when we were kids. The little tiffs we had when our friend didn't share his lunch with us or gluttonously stole some extra cake at the party were effortlessly resolved in seconds and the matter was altogether forgotten in minutes. The revenge had to be clear and on the face, but the friendship always remained. The so called people we don't like are the ones we made after we reached an age where our identity started to grow, something we've already discussed.
                                             Midway through Bottle Rocket, Anthony (Luke Wilson) and Dignan (Owen Wilson) are left stranded in the middle of the country. With nothing but a clear blue sky and dazzling green grass for company, the two decide to settle their differences and talk about the immediate past. Anthony who just gets over a rough patch in life and finds a new hope in the form of a Paraguan housekeeper Inez (for whom he goes through the traditional teenage guy behind a girl phase, which is hilarious in its own account, something so delicately handled that only Wes Anderson can manage to create) is shown from from the ground, with a good proportion of the sky encompassing his face, the sky unfazed in its color, blue, the saddest and the most healing hue of blue there can be. And Dignan who sleeps in the green field, expresses his own problems, mainly that of subtle jealously of his friend finding another friend, something he couldn't really comprehend, green, green with envy, Dignan talks to Anthony and when the hands are reached out for that friendly shake, Dignan pokes the screwdriver he holds straight into Anthony's face, the way kids do, instant shift of mood and instant vengeance. This scene sets a unique trademark which's seen in rest of Anderson's movies, visual brilliance that goes beyond the realm of the camera, one which does not involve the Coen brothers' much over used digital color grading, but one that just relies on the color of nature and it's characters. Nothing aberrant and nothing gaudy, nothing but soothing colors that'd make you ask for more and that reflect more about the character than a 30 minute monologue of the same would do. One notable mention here is the way Anderson uses this as a great plot device, an accompanying character in Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (the best Anderson movie till date). The color blue (excluding Krzysztof Kieslowski's 'Bleu', which is incomparable in any level to Anderson's works, the former is much more like a professor who lives in his own world and Anderson can be likened to a nerdy outcast) is used in such a heightening manner, that it becomes a part of Steve Zissou's (Bill Murray) life, one that's filled with mildly sordid miseries and fortunes, the way the same is used towards the end of the movie to showcase renewed luck and hope, something that made me scribble a small word in my to do list before I die, boatride. 

                                               Martin Scorsese has a strong likening for Wes Anderson and he is a self proclaimed fan of this indie director from nowhere. Why? One good reason for this can be, there's a part of Scorsese in Anderson. The part of Scorsese which in his younger days gave that texture of tanned yellow and mossy green to the classic Taxidriver. One that depicted the mood and the growing depravity in a generation which was more and obsessed with drugs and perversion, one that ended the movie with a brilliant usage of a overhead shot, that has ever since been overused by millions of struggling directors across the world. The same has been replicated, if not almost but in near similarity by Anderson with varied results, mostly in terms of emotional strengthening. Color is a part of both the filmmakers aesthetic code (with Scorsese's Hugo reflecting the same, the potato brown warmth and the cold blue color of Paris telling more about its story than its characters did, the only feature I seem to admire in Scorsese's films at this moment) and as a person who believes in the visual beauty of cinema more than anything else, Anderson's work comes out as sheer poetry,  one that engages the child inside us. 

                                     Bottle Rocket is more about childhood than any other movie made exclusively on childhood. It is much more relevant, and meaningful as it brings about one truth that can unify the world and make it a better place to live in, it asks us to never let the child in us die, and that Anderson explains through an array of pastel colors spread across giant canvasses which explain the theory of realism and 'lower than life' approach to things. And as Dignan's spirit says in the movie, the child in you never gives up and never lets you down. And a girl who loves Anderson's movies, is a girl who deserves to be loved. To one of the greatest unknown directors of our generation, here's one to Anderson and the child inside us.  

P.S.: Talking about film geekdom, here's an extra cookie for you,