First, let’s tackle Rushmore, the sophomore feature-film by young filmmaker Wes Anderson. This diamond in the blech of recent comedies was written by Owen Wilson and Wes Anderson, the duo who made the inventive, fresh Bottle Rocket in 1996 (winning Anderson MTV’s Best New Filmmaker Award). As with Rocket, Anderson manages to create a film that throws conventionality right out the window. Clichés are checked at the door then arrested and thrown into prison with very harsh sentences so that they can never appear in the film. (Got it?) While this sort of thing generally limits the broad appeal of a film, cinema-lovers will find this an exciting entry into the tired market.

Jason Schwartzman plays Max Fischer, a real macher (wheeler & dealer) who attends Rushmore Prepatory Academy (on full scholarship) and seems to be involved with or creating every sort of extra-curricular activity club imaginable, but is a terrible student. Rushmore’s headmaster, played by Brian Cox (Hannibal Lecter in Manhunter, 1986), likes Max but is frustrated by the lack of scholastic concern shown by the boy-not-so-genius. While not utterly studious in the classroom, Max seems to be able to accomplish most anything else he sets his creative brain to — including staging unbelievably complex, mind-blowing stage plays. This catches the attention of millionaire Rushmore alum, Mr. Blume (perfectly cast Bill Murray). Blume sees himself in Max and decides to, in a way, bankroll Max’s dreams for Rushmore. This relationship grows to a great friendship, but of course, there is a snag: Ms. Cross. Cross (Olivia Williams, Waterworld) is a teacher who’s captured the eyes of both Max and Blume. What ensues in the second act of the film is a war to win Ms. Cross between way-too-young, 15-year- old Max, and way-too-self-loathing, rundown Mr. Blume.

This is a premise that could be done a dozen different ways and we would still know the outcome. Anderson, though, manages with deft touches to create situations that constantly throw the viewer off-guard, confounding our guesses as to what will come next. This is a great and difficult talent in a world where good stories and ways of telling them are dwindling at an alarming rate. Whether we are watching Max’s twisted machinations, concocted to win Ms. Cross’s heart, or Blume’s sabotaging responses in his own quest for the lady’s love, we are taken along for the ride, not yawning ahead of it.

Something of a side note — definitely a bonus — Max’s relationship with his father, played wonderfully by Seymour Cassel, touches a deep chord. It is absolutely (uncloyingly) sweet and totally non-conforming to the father/son image too often shown in the media.

For the first time in quite a while, I felt a true movie catharsis. I understood or empathized with certain decisions that were made by the characters. I actually felt pain watching the film because I didn’t want things to happen, and I couldn’t help but cringe when they did. This is something that goes so far as practically wanting to yell at the television screen to the actors (until, of course, you realize they can’t hear you and you are causing friends and family concerns about your state of mental-being, but that’s beside the point here). The characters are not treated with caricature brush strokes. They appear one way and then turn around and surprise you with what they just did and said and its believable. Paxton and Thornton deliver masterful performances that showcase their underused talents. (It helps that the two were in a previous movie together, One False Move — one of my favorites.)