A Train Between Worlds: The Darjeeling Limited
I wrote up a draft of what was going to be a blog post about Wes Anderson's 2007 movie The Darjeeling Limited, but then decided it might be fun to turn it into a video essay instead. And so "A Train Between Worlds: The Darjeeling Limited" was born. Because the narration was originally going to be a blog post, the video is a bit text-heavy — it clearly didn't need to be a video per se, but I think it's more enjoyable in that form, especially because I could include various songs from the film's soundtrack (many of which were taken from other movies' soundtracks). For reference, the entire narration is available on the video's Vimeo page, and I'll paste it below the cut here.
The Darjeeling Limited has been one of Anderson's least popular and least critically lauded movies, but up until this year's Moonrise Kingdom, I thought it was his most accomplished and satisfying. I like all his movies a lot, but my taste is weird — where most people seem to find Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, and The Fantastic Mr. Fox the most satisfying, I'd rank Darjeeling Limited and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou higher, much as I enjoy the others. Later this summer, I'll probably try to create a companion video about The Life Aquatic to explore some of its intricacies.
Meanwhile, a new online film journal has just appeared, Screen Machine, and the first issue includes an excellent essay by Huw Walmsley-Evans that looks at Wes Anderson and the question of realism.
And if you haven't yet seen Moonrise Kingdom, seek it out. Even people whose taste isn't as questionable as mine seem to like it.
video narration script:
THE DARJEELING LIMITED:
A Train Between Worlds
Wes Anderson's movies often show the conflict of
private worlds with public ones, the intersection of real worlds with fantasy
worlds, the collision of dreams with cold, hard reality. The Darjeeling Limited extends these
conflicts, intersections, and collisions with great precision, serving as both
an extension of Anderson's art up to this point and a significant development
of it.
Written by Anderson, Roman Coppola, and Jason
Schwartzman, The Darjeeling Limited's story actually begins with a short
film made a year before: "Hotel Chevalier", written and directed by
Anderson, which tells the story of Schwartzman's character, Jack Whitman, who
has become a hermit in a luxury hotel in Paris. There, he is visited by his
ex-girlfriend, played by Natalie Portman.
Many of the details in "Hotel
Chevalier" will gain meaning in The Darjeeling Limited, where Jack
meets up with his brothers, Francis and Peter, for a journey through India that
Francis has organized, complete with a daily laminated itinerary provided by an
assistant who has been instructed to stay out of sight. The brothers haven't
seen each other since their father's funeral, and Francis seems to think this
spiritual journey will do them all some good.
To understand some of what the film is up to, we
need to first separate its worlds, because it is easy to see a movie as a
single representation of a particular reality, but Anderson's movies work more
as separate realities that, by the end, find at least a moment of unity.
First, we can define two basic realms: the realm
of determining influences outside the film, and the realm of the film's own
story.
The most important outside influence, aside from
the influence of the filmmakers' own personalities and tendencies, the
production limitations, etc. — the most important outside influence is that of
other movies, particularly movies set in India. These influences are not only
acknowledged by Anderson, but are given life in The Darjeeling Limited
through allusions and, especially, through music — much of the musical
soundtrack of The Darjeeling Limited comes from the movies of Satyajit
Ray, Ismail Merchant & James Ivory, and Nityananda Datta. An additional
significant influence was Jean Renoir's first color feature, The River.
Within the film's own story, we have a plethora
of worlds. There is, to start, the separate worlds of each brother. Though from
the same privileged American family, the brothers are, like the Tenenbaum
siblings, quite different personalities. Their father seems to have been the
uniting force that kept their family together; with his death, not only have
the brothers gone their separate ways, their mother has also completely
disappeared, having refused even to attend the funeral.
But the family itself, or at least the unit of
the brothers, is a world as well, despite personality differences. They have
shared experiences, shared memories, shared expectations, but especially they
share a cultural, linguistic, racial, gender, and class background. This is
significant because, for all their differences as individual human beings, it
is this shared background that will create many of the meaningful contrasts
throughout the film.
For instance, there is India. Within The
Darjeeling Limited, India is both a place and an idea, and it is not at all
a single world — it is, rather, a series of fantasies and realities. Francis,
for instance, has a fantasy of India as an exotic place of spiritual power, a
place he and his brothers can go to get in touch with their souls or their
destinies, then return, cleansed and invigorated, to their regular lives.
Francis, though, is a bit of a control freak, and
this side of his personality is humorously at odds with the intuitive, even
random, nature of spiritual quests. In his mind, a spiritual quest should be
like traveling on a train, able only to go forward or back, a clear route ahead
laid out by the rails, with good views from the windows and stops along the way
and then a destination, a terminus, clearly marked on the ticket bought at the
station. This is related to another
world within The Darjeeling Limited: the world of objects and
commodities. Francis wants a commodified spiritual journey: he wants to be able
to do what he's always done, which is buy what he thinks he needs or desires,
thus to possess and control it. Places and people that survive on tourist money
do so through such commodification, but the tourist and the merchant of
products for tourists do not look at the world through the same vantage point. The
Darjeeling Limited's story is told through the point of view of three
tourists, but again and again the audience is given reason to be skeptical
toward, amused by, or aghast at their tourism. If anyone is being made fun of,
if anyone is worth laughing at in this movie, it is the Whitman brothers.
Thus, there is an India that exists in the
background and corners of the movie, an India of complex realities, an India
that is not the tourists' India.
The tourists come into contact with that India
when they encounter the boys at the river. A life-and-death crisis is a great
leveler and unifier. Identities momentarily disappear in the brute, shared
reality of human existence. They return, of course, at the moment when the
crisis is over, and so the Whitman brothers go back to being themselves, and
though celebrated for their heroism, they are still very separate from the
world they enter. Their father's funeral and the funeral of the boy that Peter
couldn't save inevitably intersect in the brothers minds, but though the two
events can be parallel, they can't ever really be united — their differences
are too vast.
And so though the brothers have entered a world
different from the stereotypical, fantasized one of their expectations, unity
is still elusive. They still feel like the same people they were before this
immense experience — before this event that, in a typical movie, would provide
just the spiritual meaning that they had sought. But it doesn't. It can't.
Reality is too thorny, too knotted to give way to the simple, easy epiphanies
of fantasy.
The brothers continue on, growing ever more
ragged now, less organized, less the prisoners of their own self-images. They
are inching their way toward changes that will bring their understanding of the
world into some sort of congruence with the world they actually inhabit.
This happens after they find their mother. The
encounter itself is disappointing to them — once again, they had pinned their
hopes on a great eureka moment of reconciliation, personal growth, and family
unity. It doesn't happen, though. To unify her own worlds, their mother has
sought out a kind of willful ignorance, the determined simplicity of a distant,
monastic life that has no room, really, for her previous life. Therefore, there
is no room in her world for her sons, and she leaves them, once again.
But unity has been found for one moment — for one
moment around a table, this group of people with the same background, this
family, sits together. A bit awkwardly, yes, but together. Anderson is always
very careful with shots and cuts, and so the formal unity in this moment is
both meaningful and, for someone sensitive to the way the events and their
representation converge, emotionally affecting.
But the real payoff — indeed, in many ways, the
film's climax — comes with what the scene cuts to: at first, we seem to have
moved back to the village, where the children are praying before bed, but this
is revealed to be a single moment within, literally, a train of moments.
Various characters we have encountered through the film, or who have been
discussed and are important to the brothers' lives, have their own rooms on
this train.
A kind of unification has been achieved. The
movie itself, the story and its characters, is a unifying force. We've already
seen this with the references to other films that all show very different views
of India and, in many ways, life. Within The Darjeeling Limited, those
different views briefly and allusively inhabit the same space.
Which brings us back to "The Hotel
Chevalier". One of the people on the train is Jack's ex-girlfriend; this
would be mystifying to anyone who hasn't seen the short. But it shows us that
the short and the feature work in tandem, as separate realms that echo each
other. "Hotel Chevalier" showed us a person trapped in a room who, by
the end, is able to step outside onto a balcony and show his view of Paris to
his girlfriend. It is, for him, a step toward generosity. He shares the way he
sees the city, he shares his personal world and his perspective on the greater
world outside.
The story of "The Hotel Chevalier" is,
within The Darjeeling Limited, literally a story — Jack has written it
up, denying its reality, insisting it is fiction until, at the end, he seems to
be able to admit what is obvious to his brothers: that he's writing about his
own experience. "The Hotel Chevalier" and The Darjeeling Limited
at that moment gain a of unity of their own, like strands of DNA or the
parallel rails of train tracks.
After these moments of convergence and
congruence, the brothers are finally able to be free, to move toward a kind of
life that has previously eluded them in their selfish or self-centered worlds,
and to give in to a spontaneity, even goofiness, that is, within the reality of
the film at least, a powerful unifying force.
And so they literally shed the baggage they
inherited from their father, and they seem to find, in the last moments, a
wholeness that had previously eluded them. All the various worlds of life may
be separate, and we as individual creatures may be stuck in our own
perspectives, but under the right circumstances, and with the right mindset, we
can watch a movie and lose our baggage and jump on a train and ride the rails of
a shared, and pardoxically unpredictable, destiny.