Critics reviews

It's a teeming, sophisticated, scintillatingly clever movie, and Schwartzman, his first time out, gives a copious, complex performance to match; as his subsequent career has proved (including his performance in "Golden Exits," which opens this weekend), his natural virtuosity has only grown deeper.

Anderson takes a higher view of Homo sapiens [than Alexander Payne]—or, if you prefer, a more squeamish one. "What do you think?" Miss Cross asks Mr. Blume of her conduct towards Max, to which Blume replies "I think you did your best." As people generally do in Anderson's cinema. Even when his characters are at their most vindictive and malicious, their creator can hardly wait to absolve them.

It's a quirky hand that Anderson and company play, but they play it well, and the result is both heartfelt and awkward in the best possible ways. RUSHMORE ain't exactly rock n' roll, just as it's not Truffaut or Ashby or THE GRADUATE, but it's certainly one of the most notable hybrids of influence to emerge from the 90s, one that still feels like a breath of fresh air.

Rushmore has a good deal of content and human qualities to spare, but what makes it such a charming and satisfying experience is its style... For all its lightheartedness, Rushmore reeks of mortality and historical trauma — a paradox made possible by its stylistic fleetness, pumped along by snatches of nearly a dozen British pop tunes of the 60s.