Spoiler Alert: This editorial contains frank discussion of the film’s events and themes. It is assumed that the reader has seen it. Major spoilers below!
It’s amazing to believe that a full decade has passed since The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou was released on Christmas Day, 2004.
I have a deep love for The Life Aquatic, and in recent years I’ve embraced it as my all-time favorite film (Sorry, Kung Fu Hustle). That seems to surprise a lot of folks. Many consider it a “lower tier” Wes Anderson, much less a masterpiece or one of the greatest films of all time — and I couldn’t disagree more.
Over the years my friends have asked me why I hold The Life Aquatic in such a position of reverence and adoration. I haven’t ever felt sufficiently able to explain it. Love is not a quantifiable or objective science. It just is. But this is my attempt to try.
It wasn’t love at first sight. Like many great films it had to decompress. Unspool a bit. In fact, all of Anderson’s films have been that way for me to some extent. While I love many of them, none of them fully started out that way — they had to grow on me, after time or multiple viewings. I’d seen the film a couple times and really liked it, but after ripping a digital copy of my DVD, I realized while spot-checking the file that no matter where I landed, I was immediately ready to dive into this movie and start watching.
One thing I hear about the film a lot is that for a comedy, it’s simply not that funny. I might have agreed a few years ago. There’s not a whole lot of humor in the way of big belly laughs. The humor is very subtle and character driven, coming from deep inside their insecurities and small actions. The better you get to know the characters, the funnier the film becomes. Thanks to the Alamo Drafthouse, I’ve had the good fortune to see the film theatrically (in 35mm) twice despite missing its original run, and on both occasions the crowd roared with laughter at some parts I hadn’t necessarily even considered funny.
Bill Murray is lovably pathetic as Steve Zissou, the washed up documentary filmmaker who’s past his prime and directionless after the sudden death of Esteban, his partner and closest friend. His wife Eleanor (Anjelica Huston) can barely tolerate him. Steve is suddenly visited by Ned Plimpton (Owen Wilson), a polite young man who may or may not be his biological son, setting off a wave of confusing and conflicting emotions. Also along for the ride are the Belafonte’s crew, which includes Willem Dafoe, Noah Taylor, and Seu Jorge, among others. Cate Blanchett, Jeff Goldblum, Bud Cort, and Michael Gambon also shine as supporting characters.
There are a lot of things I could say about the craft of the movie. For example, I love the unique style. Many of Anderson’s movies involve some sort of uniform for the protagonists: school uniforms, scout uniforms, hotel uniforms, that sort of thing. Most of these serve to minimize their characters in some way, identifying them as children or servants. None of them are what you would call “cool” beyond their cinematic value. You wouldn’t wear them on purpose. Not so with The Life Aquatic’s Team Zissou uniforms. The custom Adidas, blue activewear and red beanies are such a great, immediately iconic look (based on Jacques Cousteau). I would wear this every day.
It’s got a great soundtrack, too. There’s a smattering of David Bowie songs in both their original forms and acoustic Portuguese recreations by Seu Jorge. And mixed in among the other rock tracks is Devo’s “Gut Feeling”, played against a training montage that’s just a groovy synthesis of sight and sound. The score by Mark Mothersbaugh (of Devo), in addition to some more traditional film music, includes some awesomely quirky electronic melodies, the in-movie works of Noah Taylor’s character who composes the scores for Steve’s films.
Which reminds me, The Life Aquatic is a “film about filmmaking” and as someone who is in love with that world, most films in this category just get an automatic leg up on the competition. I see several of you nodding.
But that’s all craft. Diving into the story itself, here’s where the more important parts emerge. When a huge, previously unidentified shark devours his best friend Esteban, Steve loses his bearings. He’s 52 years old and hasn’t had a hit film in nine years. He has marital troubles and has spent most of his credibility as an explorer and filmmaker. Still, without money or a plan, he sets out to start his next project: to kill the “jaguar shark” that killed his partner.
There are two main, interconnected themes that I really latch onto. I consider them the main themes of the film. The first has to do with the importance and meaning of family, particularly fatherhood. The second is Steve’s journey and coming to grips with his declining relevance and trying to fix what he’s destroyed through his selfishness. On their outset, the crew tracks two signals on sonar, the jaguar shark which is Steve’s goal, and a mysterious phantom signal which is a wildcard on their journey. I believe these signals represent the two themes above — more on that later.
When Ned shows up in Steve’s life, it changes everything. It’s the last thing he’d ever expect, but Ned may actually be his redemption. When Ned asks Steve why he never tried to contact him, the answer is very telling: “Because I hate fathers and I never wanted to be one”. To his surprise, he takes a real liking to Ned and it challenges his long-held aversion to fatherhood. We also learn that Ned grew up idolizing Steve, and even still wears his childhood “Zissou Society” ring.
This theme is echoed elsewhere throughout the film. Jane (Cate Blanchett), a reporter writing a story on Zissou, is five months pregnant but the father, her editor, is married and effectively out of the picture. The child may be destined to grow up fatherless, just like Ned. The budding romance between Ned and Jane suggests that he might take up the mantle of fatherhood, atoning in a way for the sin of his father. Meanwhile, engineer Klaus (Willem Dafoe) takes umbrage at Ned’s presence, jealous because he has always looked up to Steve and Esteban as father figures.
It’s reinforced several times throughout the film that we can’t know for sure if Steve and Ned are biologically related or not. The film gives us conflicting information, intentionally obscuring the literal truth in the matter.
The first signal that the Belafonte tracks turns out to be a downed plane, specifically its black box. In scientific terms, “black box” is also used to describe a system in which the input and output are known but the inner mechanisms are unknown or irrelevant. This describes the crux of the fatherhood question. It’s unknown if Steve and Ned are actually biologically related, but in the end it’s only their relationship that matters. They become father and son, no matter what the biological facts may be. Like the phantom signal, Steve’s run-in with fatherhood is an unexpected adventure that occurs on his journey to his intended destination.
Steve hits bottom midway through he film when pirates attack the Belafonte and kidnap Bill Ubell (Bud Cort), the “bond company stooge” that he has openly resented and treated poorly. This development is absolutely his own fault for taking the ship through unprotected waters despite being warned not to. As he assesses the situation, the “Arctic night lights” appear in the sky, which look “as if the natural world’s been turned upside-down” — just like Steve’s life. His rescue beacon is answered by, of all people, Alistair Hennessey, his smarmy longtime rival and nemesis (and Eleanor’s ex-husband). The ultimate insult.
Steve turns a corner here, apologizing to Eleanor and trying to repair things. We see his ego start to fall away. “It’s probably the last adventure I’ve got in me. I was hoping to go out in a flash of blazes, but I’ll probably just end up going home.”
It’s this unexpected humility in Steve which convinces Eleanor to help him. With her intelligence and financial support, they set out to rescue Bill from the pirates. Steve expends his dynamite in the rescue op, dynamite which he was saving to eventually kill the jaguar shark. It may be the first selfless thing he’s done for someone else in years. In the process they also rescue Hennessey, who was kidnapped by the same pirates in the meantime.
At one point Steve calls himself “A washed-up old man with no friends, no distribution deal, wife on the rocks, people laughin’ at him, feelin’ sorry for himself”. Right after this sad realization, he follows with an apology to Ned — “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.”
Steve is ready to throw in the towel, but Ned convinces him to take the “whirlybird” up to try to spot the shark from above. In one final conversation aboard the helicopter, Steve reveals that he has always hung onto Ned’s childhood letter to him. In a way it completes their journey to embracing each other fully as father and son. This moment is short-lived; the helicopter malfunctions, killing Ned in the crash. Ned’s death is tragic but it also sets everything in place to complete Steve’s journey. While in the helicopter, they spot a school of flurescent snapper, just as with Steve’s previous run-in with the shark. His death also brings everyone together, not only united as never before but by physically bringing producer Oseary Drakoulias (Michael Gambon) aboard for the funeral at sea — and also to be present for the finale. It also presumably creates a compelling drama for Steve’s film, which will propel it to success.
Though it’s never mentioned or even alluded to, I think it’s clear to all that in a fairer world, it would have been Steve who died. Ned was the better and younger man, well-loved and with a life ahead to look forward to. I’m sure that Steve ponders this as well, and that it colors everything he does from here. By the film’s end, Steve has attempted to repair things with everyone he has wronged or not fully appreciated — Eleanor, Ned, Bill — but others as well: Oseary, Hennessey, and the crew. He finally gives Klaus the approval he has always sought. He apologizes to Jane for making her life difficult, and compliments her good work on the article even though it embarrasses him to read about his inadequacies. But there’s still one person left he needs to come to peace with.
The shark is found, and the entire group piles into the sub to dive down and take a look. It’s no accident that Steve’s sub is named “Deep Search” and that it’s finally used here, nor that Steve sports the same as a tattoo on his arm. This represents Steve’s deep search for happiness and the end of his journey. In a beautiful scene, they do encounter the gigantic and luminous shark, which is breathtaking unlike anything they could have expected.
In a way, the jaguar shark represents Steve. He’s on a mission to find — and destroy — himself. By deciding to allow the shark to live, he’s doing the same for himself. His vendetta is dropped, his ego gone. He has tried to right himself with those around him, culminating in “patching things up” with the shark, and in so doing, himself. As he sits in the darkness of Deep Search, watching the beautiful shark swim by, he breaks down crying. Everyone lays their hands on him, signifying not only their understanding of what’s transpiring, but their forgiveness. God, I love this scene.
When Steve’s finished film is shown at a gala event, Klaus’s nephew Werner comes to sit with him outside and we hear applause roar from inside. Werner idolizes Steve, just as Ned did as a child. The symbolism which follows is so important. Steve hands Werner a very special gift: Ned’s old Zissou Society ring. He sits with Werner on one side, and a newly won trophy on the other. Here we see that he’s a changed man. Prestige no longer drives him; he has found meaning in being a more loving person. When he stands, it’s not the trophy which he picks up and carries away, but the boy.
The credits scene which follows is my all-time favorite. When I watch this theatrically I want to yell at people getting up to leave because this is one of the best parts of the movie. It’s true that it stylistically references Buckaroo Banzai, but that’s not the reason. It’s like an afterword for the entire story. As Steve and Werner walk down a long pier toward the Belafonte, everyone in his life joins him one by one, happy and revived. Even those he used to treat as enemies are welcome now. All traces of darkness and malice are gone, and when they finally reach the boat, we see a lone, familiar figure atop its upper level.
It’s the spirit of Ned, guiding it forevermore.
A/V Out.
Get it at Amazon:
The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou — [Blu-ray] | [DVD] | [Amazon Video]
