Moonrise Kingdom is like a bright yellow dream that I had as a teenager, it’s not a complicated story but more like a treasured secret. When I think of it, I smile sweetly and blush unconsciously. My friend, who is still studying, asked me what films I was watching during the recent holidays. I couldn’t answer for a while, mainly because the word “summer vacation” seemed to be very far away from me.
All the so-called holidays are spent at home eating takeaways and watching TV shows. The more I think about it, the more I miss the feeling of running around the world on summer days, with orange houses, golden wheat fields and maybe the big waves of the reef. I remember this image not because of anything else, but because of Wes Anderson’s Moonrise Kingdom. A childlike youthfulness and innocence in that unreal and dangerous kingdom.
If you have seen his films, you will be impressed by the colourful, fairy-tale scenes, the unique compositions and the legendary way in which they are told. Every detail reveals his exquisite taste and wonderful childlike spirit, such as The Grand Budapest Hotel, which I really love for its pastel retro tone.
Moonrise Kingdom, on the other hand, is like a bright yellow dream that I had as a teenager; it is not a complicated story, but more like a treasured little secret. When I think of it, my mouth smiles sweetly and my face blushes involuntarily. Susie, a 12-year-old girl, lives on a small island called New Penzance, at the far end of Blake’s Lighthouse, an area of the island known for its fierce storms.
She lives in a typical American family of the 1960s, and the opening shot sweeps through the various rooms of her home in turn. Three younger brothers are listening to The Teenage Orchestra Guide, Mum is scruffily freshening up in the bathroom before going into the bedroom to fix her curls and trim her nails, and Dad is in the other bedroom reading the newspaper.
What should have been a joyful scene was instead separate from each other. Susie, wearing a pink lapel mini-dress, white knee-high socks and seductive blue eye shadow, looked out of the window with a small telescope as if the home, and the people in it, had nothing to do with her.
On the other side of the island, her pen pal, a 12 year old boy called Sam, is at summer camp for his summer training. A militarised, wilderness survival programme where these little ones learn how to live independently and with self-discipline. Sam was an orphan, a small man with glasses, but the best cadet in the whole camp, wearing medals all over his body.
One sunny morning in 1965, the instructor was leading the cadets out for exercise, eating and reading the newspaper as usual, when he noticed that there was someone missing from the table. By this time Sam had left the camp and told Susie, “Go 400 yards north from home, keep going and going until you can’t see any signposts, then turn right until the road ends and I’ll meet you there in the middle.”
That was Sam’s promise. All this time, the two ‘troubled boys’ had been very unhappy with the world they lived in, and Susie often complained in her letters that my friends didn’t understand me, my parents didn’t understand me, nobody ever understood me. Sam said that people are selfish.
And so they developed a sympathy for each other as people who had fallen into the same world. They longed to grow up on their own terms, to build their own little world. Running away, then, became their first step towards self-reliance. Susie has packed a toothbrush, the odd novel, a record player and spare batteries in her suitcase, as well as plenty of cat food. Sam, on the other hand, brought his beloved fox-tailed hat, the grapevine medallion he inherited from his mother and the camping equipment that never leaves his hand. He sailed a small rickety wooden boat to meet the girl he loved.
After more than a year of correspondence, Susie and Sam have long since developed a deep love, like two lonely souls who confide in each other and fail to connect with each other, and finally come together. Although this love may not be what we would call love, it carries the childish vows of a child, with the best and purest fantasies of first love. There are no attachments or hesitations, and they don’t care about before or after. Susie reads to Sam by the campfire, while Sam makes earrings out of fish hooks and gold turtles for Susie.
They hid in a small, secluded canyon, and the place they named ‘Moonrise Kingdom’ was a fairyland, clean and unspoilt. In this space, just for two people, they tried to be more intimate. Susie asked Sam if she could French kiss, Sam hesitated a little and then said let’s try it. Susie said you could touch my breasts, so Sam began to stroke them gently.
Everything was just right, not a little erotic or awkward, and it even felt like such purity and softness, something that had been missing for too long. It was a brave way for a pair of 12-year-olds to figure out the riddle of love, without regard for gain or loss, without regard for the consequences, something that many so-called adults are not able to do. After all, in this world, more and more people are being closed off and repressed, gradually wearing out their ability to love. Just like Susie’s parents, a couple who live under the same roof but sleep in separate beds, talking about business and not about their feelings.
These two untouched children, on the other hand, threatened to stay together for the rest of their lives and made their most important vows solemnly before the Lord. Beneath their childish appearance lay a maturity and persistence that was incompatible with their age. Sam said, “From now on she is not my girlfriend, but my wife. This seems both funny and absurd.
But the truth is that we laugh at the childishness of children, only to turn around and realise that there are things in the world that only children can do. Composer Benjamin Britten created The Young Person’s Guide to Orchestras, which takes apart the individual instrumental units of an orchestra, analyses and reorganises them to introduce young people to a rigorously ordered world of music.
Susie and Sam are trying to find a life as harmonious and neat as the one in the Guide, but in reality, the world is often that messy. During their elopement, we also see a group of characters who are confused and conflicted. Walter, the lawyer, has no regard for his image and stays out of the way with his fat belly; the camp instructor, who has always preached order and severity, finally feels a deep sense of frustration; the seemingly tough sheriff, who is sensitive and tender at heart, leads a lonely and isolated life. As for Susie’s parents, they spend almost every day in seeming indifference.
Through the brief scenes, we get a glimpse of their hidden hearts. The difficulties they face in life, the loneliness, confusion and powerlessness they experience, are more similar to the life we usually see and are familiar with. A storm has trapped the whole town in a church where a stage play called Noah’s Ark was to be performed. According to the Bible, God decided to destroy everything with a flood after seeing the sinfulness of man and the corruption of the world. Before doing so, he asked his believer Noah to build an ark to preserve the hope of life.
Perhaps it is only in the face of a crisis that people can truly repent of their past and overcome their weaknesses. The instructor takes it upon himself to rescue the congregation, Susie’s parents begin to face up to their family crisis, and the police make the important decision to adopt Sam and stop leaving him homeless.
These two children, in a moment of desperation for their lives, take a brave step towards self-redemption. They have built a ‘moonrise kingdom’ in the northernmost bay of the island, and at the same time created a place of peace in their hearts. I think it is this awe-inspiring purity and courage that keeps some illusions, some visions and hopes alive in the world, even if they seem a little unrealistic, but, who knows?
We’ve been adults for so many years, so come on!
