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THE DARJEELING LIMITED
Directed by Wes Anderson.
Produced by Anderson, Scott Rudin, Coppola & Lydia Dean Pilcher.
Written by Anderson, Roman Coppola & Jason Schwartzman.
Director of photography Robert Yeoman.
Edited by Andrew Weisblum.
Released by Fox Searchlight.
Country of Origin: USA. 91 min. Rated R.
With: Owen Wilson, Adrien Brody, Jason Schwartzman, Anjelica Huston, Amara Karan, Camilla Rutherford, Irrfan Khan & Kumar Pallana.

About halfway into Wes Anderson’s latest film, there’s a horrible accident involving three Indian children crossing a river on a makeshift raft. Ostensibly they are brothers. To make their way across, they must work together. But the raft capsizes, and they plunge into the water. Another three brothers, American and quite a bit older in years – Francis (Owen Wilson), Peter (Adrian Brody), and Jack Whitman (Jason Schwartzman) – happen to be walking along the river when the accident occurs. All three dive in to save the children but only manage to save two. Mortified, Peter stammers, “I couldn’t save mine.” This is not the only death affecting the Whitman brothers. One year earlier, they lost their father in a car accident. He was, apparently, the glue that held the family together.

The brothers reunite aboard the Darjeeling Limited to make the obligatory spiritual pilgrimage across India. Indeed, the journey is spiritual but not the one so neatly printed on the laminated schedules Francis hands out at the start of their trip. The brothers are literally carrying around an enormous amount of their father’s luggage, and it quickly becomes clear that they are also carrying around dad’s baggage as well. Some of the funniest moments deal with the brothers’ feelings of distrust for each other. Fights and hurt feelings are as constant as the Darjeeling’s moving wheels. No matter how much they may try to numb their pain through the constant ingesting of booze and the cheap narcotics – if you ever come across Narco-Cough, you’ll want to buy a bottle – or by visiting holy sites, it is their relationships that require healing. The train ride itself is only a portion of the trip since the brothers and their myriad luggage eventually get tossed off by an irate crew (the exception being one very lovely train stewardess, newcomer Amara Karan).

We’ve been seeing Owen Wilson through his ups (Wedding Crashers, Meet the Parents) and his downs (Shanghai Knights, Starsky & Hutch) but for my money, this is Wilson’s strongest performance. Not to minimize either Brody or Schwartzman’s work (after all, it is the three brothers’ chemistry which ultimately makes the movie so enjoyable), but Wilson carries the film.

Many of the trademark Anderson tricks are pulled out for us: characters who are dry and detached; the constant smoking; the missing father; and appearances by familiar faces from Bottle Rocket through The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, including the wonderful Kumar Pallana (who doesn’t offer a word of dialogue), an addled Bill Murray, who, at least, has one line, and a note perfect Angelica Huston as the Whitman matriarch. Actors like Wilson and Murray must be awfully grateful for a director like Anderson – it’s so obvious that they are completely at home.

Of all of Anderson’s films, Darjeeling is his most accessible. More than in his previous films, he escapes coming across as offbeat for his own amusement, and there are more moments of emotional honesty at play here where characters profess emotional pain. The aftermath of the drowning might serve as a good example. As they are about to leave the town, the brothers are invited to join the funeral. They seem truly moved by the invitation and gladly participate. Of course, characteristically, we next seem them strutting in slow motion, looking sharp in their clothing to the beat of the Kinks on the soundtrack. We are once again reminded that we are not watching an Ingmar Bergman movie here. Adam Schartoff
September 29, 2007