It's Wes Anderson, again.

I think Wes needs to get away from broken family films. It's getting tired, it's turning to shtick, a near self-conscious parody. The moment of realisation in Darjeeling is when they meet mumsies near Tibet (and how incongruous a Christian station seems there) and Jack blurts out "But We Need You!" That moment of sincerity/pathetic admission kinda blew the lid on the innate childishness of the thing for me. Being mothered, being fed, being needed. Absent parents, grown but damaged children (trying to act out their parents), and unprocessed grief. These are the Wes Themes All Over Again. Instead of being curious background touches (Rushmore) they've now become the sole fare. I'm getting straight to the negative here, though of course there's much to admire in this handsome film. Like the strong cinematic power of the colours yellow, and cyan. And the hangdog eyes of Brodie, who'd do a perfect turn as a tragicomic clown in my book. The magnetic Portman.

Yes there's the Wes production touches: initialled luggage, quirks aplenty (he should come and make Australian cinema); Wes applied to a new and exotic location. Wouldn't Wes be better off directing Police film clips? But then Murray's cameo is verging on Wesparody, Pagodaparody. Despite the exciting rush through traffic.

There's other complaints, like the film not connecting with reality until the boy's drowning. I didn't quite believe the spoilt/wealthy sons abroad thing until that scene humanised them. At least it signalled the end of fraternal friction — aim achieved? Usually I wouldn't find this an issue, but in my head the implied wealth of these rich kids really nagged me, popped the fantasy/belief. For the most part they seemed like moneyed 'characters' in the curious/quirky sense, not characters as narrative/deep vehicles. At times the ensemble (Rita) seemed to threaten to become more interesting.

Add the terrific cliché of going to India to get spiritual, on a whim and a schedule, out of childish hurt, not mature desire — an indirect conclusion of which: Darjeeling is about the absence of form/order and family/ritual/bonds in Western life. The pathetic peacock feather ritual for sure, but see how naturally they take to the Indian family/funeral process. Those silly slow motion/rock and roll scenes got a bit shticky though — cf shooting music videos in exotic locations again.

There's the small stage thing again, lots of little wide set productions. I thought the iPod an interesting touch; odd, like the printer and laminator, in opposition to the 70s touch of the glasses (plural). And the simple purity of those pan shots, like compass points.

The brother thing worked in parts — I never questioned their sibling relation, their established differences, their secrets. But the whole mother-cause made it childish again, a gaggle of lost (though fortunately: not spotty) boys. Ditto the final dropping of the 'baggage'.

It's entertaining all right, light, but it just lacked the consistent depth of oooomph of Tenenbaums. Because you can't keep recreating Tenenbaums.