Moonrise Kingdom - James King

An Interview with the Characters

Sponsored by Broadway BBQ & Club 280

Youngsters pointing their Astrola reflecting telescopes at the Birmingham sky last night might have noticed the absence of those glittering, glowing orbs we call stars.  Save that boring rock called Moon or the occasional bit of floating cosmic dust, the night sky would’ve been a big blank. The reason, of course, being that the stars had truly fallen right here in Birmingham, Alabama, lending their glow to the Oak Mountain State Park Amphitheatre’s premier of the critically-acclaimed/publicly- adored Moonrise Kingdom. 

Later than night, when the hum of the reel stopped and the film’s spell was broken, hoots, hollers, and applause roared the audiences approval.  Chaos at the Club 280 Pavilion, as the characters signed autographs, lost bits of costumes to overzealous fans, and linked hands to finally overcome the crowd and enter single-file into the press tent.

Due to the impending storm, all of the interviewers, including myself, deferred to the famous local meteorologist, James Spann, for the first question:

James Spann:  My sleeves are rolled up.  The storm is coming.  Social Services, have you kept everyone away from tall, isolated trees, open fields, the tops of ridges, water, metal objects, and tents, which would offer no protection from lightening?

Social Services:  “Where’s the boy?  I’m told that he’s just been struck by lightening?”

Scout Master Ward:  “It’s true.”

HOM [bumping Mr. Spann out of the way]:  Hi there!  James with http://hashingoutmovies.blogspot.com/.  Our readership loves your work and no doubt will find Moonrise Kingdom a great achievement.  But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve met each of you before.   
For instance, you, [pointing] young, psychotic scout on the motorbike, look a lot like Mr. Eli Cash.  Also Sam seems to inhabit the body and soul of the precocious love-struck youth from Rushmore, while Bill Murray plays the sad dignified, time-worn Bill Murray character that we’ve come to expect, and look forward to, in a Wes Anderson film.  Should these films be appreciated as a multi-volume collective work rather than as any one individual movie. Care to comment, sympathetic authority figure, Scout Master Ward? 

Scout Master Ward:  “This is the best-pitched camp that I’ve ever seen.”

HOM: Hmm.  Thank you Scout Master Ward.  Club 280 does do a good job with their pavilion, but did you not understand the question?  

Sam: “Dear Suzy, walk four hundred yards due north from your house to the dirt path which has not got any name on it. Turn right and follow to the end. I will meet you in the meadow.” 

HOM:  Wo there!  No need for name-calling. I’m not looking for a fight!

"Royal: “Well, sweetie, don't be mad at me. That's just one man's opinion. 

[Margot gets up and gathers her presents just as Ethel comes in with the birthday cake and everyone starts singing Happy Birthday, which trails off as she leaves the room. Ethel glares at Royal]” 

I left the pavilion confused and in a huff.  I could still hear the inexplicable birthday party in the distance, as I began to transcribe these events for the HOM readership.  As my fingers banged away on the typewriter, however, I began to realize that I shouldn’t be offended or threatened by these strange events.  Those weren’t just random fictional beings saying weird things out of context in order to hurt me, rather they were a community—the brothers on a train to Darjeeling, the Tennenbaum family at Royal’s grave, the island community risking their necks to save an orphan scout— who were simply answering a question that I was too dull to ask: How do you bring together what dysfunction, confusion, and hurt pull apart?