4.5 out of 5 stars

It’s almost impossible not to be drawn into the immaculate, symmetrical world of Wes Anderson. Characterised by meticulous symmetry, carefully curated colour palettes, and deadpan performances, his distinct visual aesthetic stands unrivalled among his contemporaries. Whether it’s the painstaking stop-motion animation of Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009) or the perfectly tied bows of the pink Mendl’s Patisserie boxes in The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), the visionary filmmaker’s meticulous idiosyncrasies reflect a level of care that borders on obsessive. For all his consistency, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou divided fans and critics alike. Several film circles saw its madcap energy as a momentary lapse in his otherwise polished oeuvre. However, this interpretation misses the mark entirely. Anderson’s fourth directorial effort is an overlooked masterpiece that deserves to be recognised as a vital piece of his cinematic evolution.

From an early age, Anderson was captivated by the work of the legendary French oceanographer Jacques Cousteau. Through a series of meditative documentaries in the 1950s and 1960s, the former naval officer turned conservationist introduced the world to the enchanting splendours of the sea. He unveiled a hidden world teeming with nature’s misfits, oddballs, and sunken wrecks, transforming the uncharted depths into a striking tableau. His unmatched blend of poetic narration and visual splendour culminated in his receipt of the coveted Palme d’Or at Cannes in 1956 for his masterpiece, Le Monde du Silence (1956). Anderson’s admiration of Cousteau was evident from the outset of his career. Richard Avedon’s iconic portrait of Cousteau graces Mr Henry’s wall in Bottle Rocket (1996), while Max Fischer discovers a treasured Cousteau book in the library in Rushmore (1998). These subtle references and playful nods would eventually lead us like breadcrumbs towards The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.

Anderson had wanted to craft a film centred around a character reminiscent of Cousteau for over 14 years. His fascination can be traced back to a short story from his college years that revolved around what he described as an “eccentric family at sea”. At its heart was an oceanographer named Steve Zissou accompanied by his estranged wife who served as the true brain behind their operation, and their iconic vessel, the Belafonte. Over the intervening years, the story evolved as the filmmaker dived deeper into Steve’s personality. Initially, Anderson sought to collaborate with his frequent creative partner Owen Wilson(The French Dispatch). However, preoccupied with the demands of his burgeoning career, the actor was unavailable. Instead, the filmmaker found a kindred spirit in the burgeoning screenwriter Noah Baumbach (Marriage Story), and together they embarked on a project far more ambitious than anything Anderson had attempted before. The Life Aquatic would require elaborate sets, exotic coastal locations, fantastical undersea creatures, and an ensemble of equally idiosyncratic human characters.

While internationally famous oceanographer Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) is working on his latest documentary, his best friend is devoured by a mysterious creature described as a Jaguar Shark. Once a celebrated figure in the world of documentary filmmaking, Steve’s career has faltered, with his last successful documentary now nearly a decade behind him. Desperate to restore his reputation and fuelled by a quest for vengeance, Team Zissou set sail on an expedition to hunt the elusive predator and capture the spectacle for his next documentary. The crew aboard the documentarian’s ageing research vessel, the Belafonte, includes his estranged wife and chief strategist, Eleanor (Anjelica Huston), and the fiercely loyal but comically insecure German engineer, Klaus Daimler (Willem Dafoe).

The other members of Team Zissou are an assortment of quirky specialists including Vikram Ray (Waris Ahluwalia) as the unflappable cameraman, Vladimir Wolodarsky (Noah Taylor) as a physicist moonlighting as the Belafonte’s soundtrack composer, Renzo Pietro (Pawel Wdowczak) as the reserved sound technician, and Anne-Marie Sakowitz (Robin Cohen) as the enigmatic script supervisor. Complicating matters further, the crew is joined by two outsiders who bring their own baggage to the turbulent waters. Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson) is an earnest Southern gentleman who believes that Steve is his biological father, and Jane Winslett-Richardson (Cate Blanchett) is a pregnant journalist with a sharp tongue. Together with his crew in hand and some new recruits along the way, Steve makes it his mission to track down this mysterious marine mammal. However, the captain’s mission becomes something far greater than a simple act of revenge when he’s forced to confront his own faded glory and reclaim a sense of purpose.

Coming only a year after his Academy Award-nominated turn in Lost in Translation (2003), Murray delivers what might be the most nuanced and challenging performance of his career. As the eponymous oceanographer Steve Zissou, the actor blends his signature sardonic humour with poignant vulnerability to craft a character as emotionally fractured as he’s absurdly egocentric. Among Anderson’s pantheon of flawed patriarchs and surrogate father figures, Steve emerges as the most complex and contradictory. On the surface he’s an unlikeable disaster of a man, embittered by his failing career, envious of his estranged son, and emotionally distant from his wife. Yet, Murray imbues the character with a curmudgeonly tenderness, revealing glimpses of a man riddled with insecurity and aching desperation for validation. It’s a delicate performance that teeters between absurdity and pathos, but Murray navigates this precarious balance effortlessly.

In typical Anderson fashion, The Life Aquatic boasts an impressive ensemble that only he could assemble. There is a kaleidoscope of colourful characters just as vibrant as the underwater creatures they seek to document. Although this marks Anderson’s first film not co-written by Owen Wilson, the actor delivers one of the finest performances of his career as the earnest and thoughtful Ned. With wide-eyed sincerity, he captures the essence of a young man yearning for connection with his estranged father. His soft Southern drawl and unassuming demeanour infuse the character with an authenticity that makes him the emotional core of an otherwise whimsical narrative. Similarly, Cate Blanchett’s (TÁR) portrayal of Jane Winslett-Richardson provides a grounding counterpoint to the proceedings. The actress brings a nuanced humanity to her role with an understated grace. Her chemistry with Wilson lends their shared scenes a poignant depth and offers moments of genuine pathos.

Audiences will struggle to find a crew better suited to complement the disagreeably charming captain, as each character contributes their own brand of eccentricities. Willem Dafoe (Kinds of Kindness) delivers a pitch-perfect performance as the devotedly loyal crewman, Klaus. His misguided bravado and lack of self-awareness provide several comical moments. Meanwhile, Anjelica Huston (The Darjeeling Limited) lends a quiet gravitas to the whimsical proceedings as Steve’s estranged wife, Eleanor Zissou. As the true captain of the operation both emotionally and intellectually, her character brilliantly contrasts her husband’s erratic escapades. Finally, Jeff Goldblum (Asteroid City) shines as Steve’s far wealthier and more composed nemesis, Hennessey. The actor’s sardonic wit and signature charm make him an instant standout, particularly as his involvement deepens during the second act.

When compared to his previous work, The Life Aquatic represents a clear evolution in Anderson’s cinematic language. There is no denying Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, and The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) are nothing if not a supremely stylish cinematic masterclass in meticulous production design and immaculate costuming. However, his fourth feature finds him embracing the lavish flourishes of visual splendour and deliberate artificiality that have since become synonymous with his oeuvre. While working alongside his longtime cinematographer Robert Yeoman (Moonrise Kingdom), the filmmaker leans into the hyper-symmetrical compositions and near-absurdist theatricality present in all of their previous collaborations. In one superb sequence, the audience is taken on a guided tour of Steve’s rickety ship, the Belafonte. Rather than conventionally introducing the requisite engine room, editing suite, and observation deck, Mark Friedberg’s (Joker: Folie à Deux) elaborate set design is transformed into a living diorama. As Murray’s deadpan narration describes each room’s meaning and significance, the camera pans vertically and horizontally across the bifurcated vessel to reveal its improbable contents in one continuous shot. The intricate design and whimsical framing reflect the work of a filmmaker utterly in control of his vision.

Even the vast expanse of the ocean can’t escape Anderson’s rigorous aesthetic as his whimsical sensibilities extend to the various underwater creatures. The Life Aquatic marks a pivotal moment in the filmmaker’s career and is the first time he fully embraces a world of heightened reality. Prefiguring the more polished craftsmanship of Fantastic Mr Fox (2008), his obsession with symmetry and whimsy finds expression through the medium of stop-motion animation. The enchanting aquatic wonderland is vividly brought to life by the handmade craftsmanship of visionary animator Henry Selick (The Nightmare Before Christmas). Utilising the same painstaking techniques of luminaries such as Willis H. O’Brien (King Kong) and Ray Harryhausen (The Golden Voyage of Sinbad), there’s a charming handcrafted magic to the curiosities. Each candy-coloured creation looks majestic and conjures a wondrous meta-reality wholly unique to Anderson’s peculiar cinematic vision. Whether it’s the luminous Crayon Ponyfish or the mythical Jaguar Shark, their effect is as entrancing as ever. Make no mistake, these endearingly preposterous creatures are not meant to deceive the audience into believing in their existence. Instead, they serve as tangible extensions of Steve’s fractured dreams and embodiments of the wonder that has long eluded his weary existence.

Its whimsical nature consistently positions The Life Aquatic on the precipice of succumbing to style over substance. However, Anderson and Baumbach’s screenplay keeps the narrative emotionally rooted with an incisive understanding of the unsavoury realities of human vulnerability and emotional complexity. Beneath the glowing Sugar Crabs and jaunty rescue missions are delicate undertones of mourning, redemption, and familial disintegration. While every member of the Belafonte seeks their own sense of belonging, the central emotional focus rests on the fractured relationship between Steve and Ned. Their dynamic is charged with unresolved emotions because Steve never wanted to accept the responsibility of abandoning his son. His reluctance reflects a deeper unwillingness to confront the consequences of his failures and his tendency to retreat from meaningful connections. When Ned finally asks the painful question of why his father never sought him out, Steve bluntly responds “Because I hate fathers and I never wanted to be one”. This deadpan response further illustrates that Steve rejected the idea of fatherhood so he could guiltlessly self-destruct in peace.

It’s reinforced several times that whether Steve and Ned are biologically related is unknown. Throughout the 118-minute runtime, the audience is given conflicting information, intentionally obscuring the literal truth of the matter. Regardless, they become father and son despite the biological facts. Following a sad realisation, Steve apologises to Ned by saying “I’m sorry I never acknowledged your existence all those years. It’ll never happen again, I mean it. You are my son to me. Almost more so”. However, like the phantom distress signal the Belafonte receives, Steve’s experience with fatherhood is an unexpected adventure that occurs on his journey to his intended destination.

Steve’s descent into rock bottom reaches its nadir when Filipino pirates attack the Belafonte. This calamity is inarguably his own doing for steering the vessel through unprotected waters despite clear warnings. This moment of peril becomes a catalyst for introspection, forcing the self-absorbed oceanographer into an unexpected moment of humility. In an uncharacteristic gesture, he apologises to the people he has neglected or taken for granted. He finally grants Klaus the paternal approval he has always sought and offers a sincere compliment to Jane’s journalism despite the discomfort it causes him to read about his inadequacies. However, for Steve to be truly at peace with himself there remains one final reconciliation the documentarian has to make.

Perhaps the most resonant moment is the climactic meeting between Steve and the elusive Jaguar Shark. With the disparate crew united in awe, Steve is granted the opportunity to destroy the near-mythical beast that killed his best friend Esteban (Seymour Cassel) and the son he refused to acknowledge for decades. In an act of profound growth, he chooses forgiveness over violence. By allowing the shark to live, he symbolically forgives not only the creature but also himself. As he sits in the Deep Search submarine watching the beautiful mammal glide through the ethereal darkness, his hardened veneer finally crumbles. The disillusioned man who has spent a lifetime masking his vulnerabilities breaks down in tears. “I wonder if it remembers me?” he asks, while everyone lays their hands on him, signifying their forgiveness. It’s a bittersweet crescendo that is equally as poignant as the moment Ben Stiller delivers the line “It’s been a rough year, dad” in The Royal Tenenbaums.

Despite being heralded as the quintessence of Anderson’s cinematic vision, The Life Aquatic was met with a tepid reception upon its theatrical release. While it attracted pockets of devoted cinephiles, its expansive scope and broad accessibility rendered it a film of niche appeal. Critics and audiences alike that once lauded the filmmaker’s eccentric brilliance lamented what they perceived as a descent into unrestrained self-indulgence. Unfortunately, it was a commercial failure and grossed $35M on a $50M production budget. However, The Life Aquatic has undergone a cultural reevaluation since its release and ultimately found a more appreciative audience. Although it didn’t achieve the same immediate cult status as The Royal Tenenbaums or the widespread acclaim of The Grand Budapest Hotel, it’s since cultivated a loyal and steadily growing following. 20 years after its release, The Life Aquatic continues to be celebrated not as a career misstep but as a deeply idiosyncratic triumph.

The Life Aquatic represents a critical turning point in Wes Anderson’s oeuvre, where his penchant for meticulous symmetry converges with an audacious willingness to explore the boundaries of cinematic form itself. While Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums delicately balance grounded storytelling and stylised artifice, The Life Aquatic unapologetically leans into its unrestrained eccentricity and overt artificiality. However, beneath its whimsical veneer lies a profound meditation on loss, redemption, and the fragile intricacies of human connection. Perhaps more than any of Anderson’s tragic opuses, it wallows in melancholia until it almost drowns. Yet, without minimising the mundane realities that make up daily life in the aftermath of catastrophe, it serves as a hearty counterpoint to the fantastical setting and absurdist humour. In a world where The Grand Budapest Hotel and Asteroid City (2023) now exist, The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou deserves revisiting.

USA | 2004 | 118 MINUTES | 2:35:1 | COLOUR | ENGLISH • FRENCH • GERMAN • ITALIAN • TAGALOG • ICELANDIC • FILIPINO • PORTUGUESE 

frame rated divider retrospective

Cast & Crew

director: Wes Anderson.
writers: Wes Anderson & Noah Baumbach. 
starring: Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, Anjelica Huston, Cate Blanchett, Willem Defoe, Jeff Goldblum & Michael Gambon.