The movie is funny, but it curiously outsources most of its pathos, its emotional complexity, onto its soundtrack. Blume, and a 15-year-old prep school student possessed of wild ambitions named Max Fischer (played by Jason Schwartzman)-an alliance that unravels into an escalating, and quite funny, revenge battle when both characters come under the spell of a fetching British teacher (Olivia Williams). Rushmore recounts the unlikely rise and fall of a friendship between Murray’s character, a depressive manufacturing mogul named Mr. Now, strangely enough, directors are as preoccupied with choosing the proper mood-evoking Elton John song as they are with composing a shot in a sequence, or settling on a particular quality of film stock.Ī pivotal case in point is Wes Anderson’s 1998 film Rushmore, which owes much of its success to its British invasion soundtrack, Bill Murray, and a then-refreshingly funny Owen Wilson, who co-authored the screenplay.
Nowhere is this trend plainer than in the strange miniaturization of the movie soundtrack, which has quietly turned film directors into d.j.’s, calibrating a given moment on screen to an off-the-rack snatch of commentary from the pop or indie rock canon. And now, in our media-addled age of the indie-auteur, artistic creation is not only a function of a director’s unassailable vision it sprouts full-blown out of his or her pre-existing taste preferences, so that movies increasingly seem to double as infomercials for a particular director’s consumption patterns. If the legends are to be believed, those film directors lucky enough to be crowned auteurs hold every element of the success of their movies in their profoundly artistic minds.
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