I have a very difficult relationship with Wes Anderson. There are times when I wake up and consider him one of the most audacious voices in modern filmmaking, an essential visual artist who doesn’t make films – he composes them. There are other times when I think he is nothing more than a filmmaker who has devolved into a series of tics and quirks, making films that are visually stunning but empty in terms of their narratives. However, I recently rewatched The Royal Tenenbaums, and I have to be honest: this is an almost perfect film, a beautiful poetic comedy about family that captivates the audience and takes them on this gorgeously meaningful journey throughout the lives of a set of characters bound together through being a constituent of the titular Tenenbaum family. I have always been quite partial to The Darjeeling Limited, the film by Anderson that I adore the most, but I would be dishonest if I didn’t admit that Anderson’s greatest achievement is, and will likely always be, The Royal Tenenbaums. Whether looking at it from my first viewing several years ago, or from the most recent viewing very recently, I maintain that The Royal Tenenbaums is a masterpiece, and absolutely nothing Anderson has made since can rival the unadulterated genius that went into the making of this film, an elegant comedy that is as outrageously hilarious as it is deeply heartwarming and melancholic, and as visually-stunning as it is profoundly meaningful. If anything, The Royal Tenenbaums shook me out of my overly-critical Wes Anderson stupor and reignited my belief that Anderson is an absolute master of his craft.

The Royal Tenenbaums is almost indescribably brilliant. There is so much happening throughout this film, so many moving parts that could have easily just been an unmitigated disaster. Yet, everything works so exceptionally well – all the elements that make this film what it is come together in perfect syncronicity, working together so perfectly, disallowing a single false move or wrong note. There isn’t a moment in this film that doesn’t come across as sincere and authentic, and considering this was, at the time, Anderson’s most audacious production, it is impressive to see how he managed to handle the inflated cast, innovative story and detailed execution with such exceptional skill and grace. This is the kind of film an auteur makes towards the end of their career, not near the beginning, and having made such a brilliant film may have been the worst thing for Anderson’s career, because The Royal Tenenbaums is so astonishing, everything he has made subsequently could pale in comparison. This isn’t necessarily true, because I adore The Darjeeling Limited and am very fond of his subsequent films (with the exception of Isle of Dogs), but I have yet to see something that is nearly as captivating as The Royal Tenenbaums come from the director. Perhaps my adoration is a bit too excessive, but I think there is a reason why The Royal Tenenbaums endures as Anderson’s most beloved work, simply because it is quirky without being pretentious, meaningful without being heavy-handed, and thoroughly genuine in all regards.

Anderson, to his credit, has always had a way with actors, and his films are always brimming with large casts, populated by quite distinctive performers. Lately, many of these have just come to have really small, almost inconsequential roles that allow Anderson to market his films as having these significant casts without giving the performers too much to do. This was very different for The Royal Tenenbaums, which has an ensemble that may be considered quite notable, by his later standards, it is quite intimate. Leading the film is Gene Hackman, who is one of the greatest actors of his generation, appearing in countless iconic films throughout his long career. The Royal Tenenbaums was undeniably his final great role before his retirement (I don’t think anyone in their right mind would consider Runaway Jury or Welcome to Mooseport to be particularly great films), and this was quite a film to end one of the strongest careers any actor has ever had. Hackman is a legend, and sometimes we romanticize actors like him, by virtue of their longevity without actually looking at their work with enough objective scrutiny, but watching The Royal Tenenbaums reminded me precisely why Hackman is such a towering cinematic figure – his performance here is amongst his best work. His portrayal of the titular character is an absolute marvel – he commits entirely to the role, depicting every strange trait of the Tenenbaum patriarch with such powerful dedication. This is a role that allowed Hackman to show his considerable comedic talents, which were all too often suppressed for more serious fare. I genuinely forgot how incredible Hackman was in this film, and his fierce commitment to the character, telling us more about Royal Tenenbaum with every subtle expression or insignificant gesture. Hackman was at the top of his game here, and I don’t think I’d be untruthful if I called this one of his best performances.

The cast as a whole, however, is at their very peak. It is difficult to talk about them all in detail, but The Royal Tenenbaums is composed of an ensemble that are all ferociously dedicated to their characters, as well as their co-stars. The chemistry between this cast is something to behold, and everyone has their own shining moments. Anjelica Huston is as elegant as always, playing Etheline Tenenbaum with such calm grace and unhinged sophistication, it is difficult to imagine a more regal performer working in cinema today. Ben Stiller shows more nuance than he normally does as the cynical Chas, who masks his heartbreaking grief at the recent loss of his wife through a hardened exterior, which is slowly thawed as the film continues, resulting in a truly touching climax for his character. Luke Wilson and Gwyneth Paltrow also show considerable nuance in their portrayals of the other two Tenenbaum children who are dealing with their own existential quandaries while searching for meaning in their lives, which ultimately results in their realization that the fulfillment they are in need of cannot be found elsewhere, but with each other (and as the film makes it clear, their underlying romantic attraction is more acceptable by virtue of them being adopted, and one can vary in how much they agree with this). Bill Murray and Danny Glover are obviously as consistently great as always, and while not the central focus (being auxiliary characters to the main plot), they are both excellent, and do very well with their limited, but significant, roles. Of course, the endearing Kumar Pallana and legendary Seymour Cassel, two of Anderson’s most underrated collaborators, are very special, even if they are not as notable as the more focal performances. As a whole, The Royal Tenenbaums has a terrific cast, each one of them giving incredible performances that portray far more depth than we normally see.

I don’t know what it is that makes The Royal Tenenbaums work so well – and on the surface, it could be that it is Anderson’s first major foray into the visual style he has come to be known for, and while I am highly critical of this style in his later films, it is used so well here, to criticize it would not only be misguided, it would be outright contradictory, because it is one of the elements of this film that define it as a masterpiece. Visually, The Royal Tenenbaums is striking, with the bold use of colour giving it a distinctive appearance that detaches it from reality enough to portray The Royal Tenenbaums as a modern fable, a family drama that would be heart-wrenching if it wasn’t so beautiful to look at. Anderson captures New York in a way never seen before, creating a Woody Allen film by way of Powell and Pressburger, utilizing the gorgeousness of artifice without allowing it to take control. This is the problem I have with Anderson’s more recent films – his visual style has come to be so distinctive, he tends to sacrifice the story for the sake of making his films as delectable as possible, and while it does work, when it comes to something like Isle of Dogs, it almost alienates the audience. Great visual stylists like Powell and Pressburger and Fellini understood that filmmaking is a dialogue between various elements, a conversation between the visual and the narrative, and while Anderson may be losing his way lately, The Royal Tenenbaums is the perfect indication of the fact that he is able to actually create something that is as optically luscious as it is emotionally inviting.

The Royal Tenenbaums has something else that sets it apart from many other films of its ilk: it has genuine, unhinged heart. There is a warmth in this film that is rarely ever captured like it is here. Anderson doesn’t just chronicle the story of an Upper West Side family – he takes us on an emotional journey through their lives, and he explores themes that show a certain maturity that he seems to have abandoned. Underneath the quirky exterior of The Royal Tenenbaums lays a series of concepts that hint at problems that exist outside of the colourful confines of the Tenenbaum family – heartbreak is obviously the most significant one, and a lot of this film and the motivations of its characters are driven by the concept of love. Yet, it also looks at death, and how we work through the loss of a loved one, as well as the imminent death of someone when we are lucky enough to be given enough warning to be able to say goodbye. Anderson has always been a filmmaker who can portray significant depth, and even when his work is unfortunately reduced to a number of idiosyncratic tics, there are seldom artists who can break down humanity to the most visceral and honest like Anderson. When everything is stripped down to the level of showing the simple intricacies of humanity like they are here, it is difficult to not feel extremely shaken by the sheer profundity of what Anderson is showing here. This is the exact reason why the final scene of this film is the best work of Anderson’s career – we have, for nearly two hours, been a part of this family, and we empathize with them, with their failures, their heartbreaks, their dreams and their losses. The Royal Tenenbaums hits extremely hard, and while it is an outrageously funny film, it is also a deeply heartbreaking one, and I am certain it will resonate with the viewer far more than we would expect.

The Royal Tenenbaums is a difficult film to review because it is a very popular film, and one that endures as a classic of modern filmmaking. To analyse this film in all its intricacies would be redundant, because so much has already been done about it – the cinematic influences, psychoanalytical analyses of the various characters, the portrayal of the various familial themes present throughout the film – all of this is very clear and makes for fascinating reading, but regurgating well-established facts are not always the best idea – that’s why the best I can do is to say that The Royal Tenenbaums is a film that means a great deal to me – it is an eccentric film about family, showing how through all of our faults and mistakes, there is still an unbreakable bond between individuals, whether related by blood or otherwise. The most impressive part of The Royal Tenenbaums is that it has heart, and while the cast is brilliant and the visuals astonishing, The Royal Tenenbaums soars when we look at how much this film means. It is a deeply profound meditation on individuality and family, showing it in its inextricable, rugged beauty. The Royal Tenenbaums is an absolutely brilliant work, and while it is undeniably popular, removing its reputation and just looking at it for what it is, we come to realize what a masterful achievement this film actually is. I absolutely adore every moment of this film, and I still find myself being broken by the ending, which was heartbreaking and bittersweet in equal measure. The Royal Tenenbaums is a very special film, and while it does have some minor flaws, I consider it the greatest achievement of Anderson’s career, and one of the most powerful and moving American films of the current century. There’s a lot more that can be said about The Royal Tenenbaums, and even more that should just remain unsaid in the ethereal bliss that comes as a result of watching this incredible film.