Moonrise Kingdom

It’s tough to convey the torturous ordeal that is “Moonrise Kingdom,” the latest exercise in unfettered self-indulgence for the look-at-me party drunk Wes Anderson, who reaches a new nadir with each successive picture. The embarrassing storyline involves a precocious, nerdy young boy and the blank-faced, empty-headed older girl he instantly recognizes as his soulmate (it’s hard to tell who’s more annoying), but as always it’s just an excuse for Anderson to have a cast of name actors recite his interminable stream of vapid, cutesy-poo dialogue. Frances McDormand, Edward Norton, Tilda Swinton, Bruce Willis – all just dolls for Anderson to move about his elaborate dollhouse; and it’s been at least a decade since Bill Murray brought anything of value to a movie. Anderson is obviously not without visual flair - you could see an Oscar for set decoration – which only makes his choice of material all the more discouraging. Meanwhile, I kept hearing guttural moans and snippets of commentary from the friend I took to “Moonrise Kingdom”: “I can’t…” “It’s a nightmare…” How much money, I asked, would it take to get him to go back and see it again. He gave the question thoughtful consideration. “It would be tough,” he said, “but I’d do it for $150.”