The Darjeeling Limited

Co-scripted with Roman Coppola and Jason Schwartzman and filmed in a country far from home, The Darjeeling Limited still bears the indelible hallmarks - and pleasures - of a Wes Anderson film.

Three American brothers, who have not spoken to each other since their father's funeral a year ago, set off on a train voyage across India with a plan to find themselves and bond with each other. Architect of the plan is Francis, the eldest (Owen Wilson), swathed in bandages after a near-death motorcycle wreck. Middle brother Peter (Adrien Brody) arrives weighed down by anxieties about having a child with a woman he always expected to divorce; and writer Jack, the baby of the family (Jason Schwartzman), is still so obsessed with his ex-girlfriend that he compulsively checks the messages on her answerphone.

Francis' meticulous plan, that the trio will find enlightenment and spiritual epiphany, and perhaps even become friends, veers rapidly off course due to events involving over-the-counter painkillers, Indian cough syrup, pepper spray and a snake. Eventually they find themselves stranded alone in the desert with eleven suitcases, a printer and a laminating machine. At this moment, a new and unplanned journey begins...

As in previous films such as The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Wes Anderson offers astute observations on the complications of family ties, often funny and calamitous at the same time. In The Darjeeling Limited, the chaotic spirit of India adds a further, but highly appropriate, layer to the story. Much as the brothers are trying to connect with each other, they are also trying to connect with this beautiful but unknown land, and the film is subtle and perceptive about the clash where tourism and ancient traditions meet.

Best of all, the film carries all of this deceptively lightly. Partly this is thanks to Anderson's vibrant, distinctive aesthetic; partly it is inscribed in the performances, with Brody, Schwartzman and Wilson utterly believable as the squabbling brothers who love each other but may not like each other all that much; and partly it is due to Anderson's bravery in folding sadness and poignancy into the comedy, and in providing an appropriately eclectic soundtrack referencing Indian cinema alongside typically well chosen rock and folk tunes.

Preceded by the delightful short prequel, Hotel Chevalier, this is a welcome Closing Night treat from one of our favourite auteurs.

Sandra Hebron