That Anderson came up with this fanciful new-millennium fabrication suggests that he, and the other Eccentrics, want to work more, and that they need a mythology to define their own filmmaking era. Anderson's movie-within-a-commercial recalls the antic film parodies staged as prep-school pageants in Rushmore—a poignant act toward wish-fulfillment and self-realization. That's the impulse the Eccentrics have in common: They want to be appreciated as whiz kids—the gifted children of the counterculture. This social development gains nuance and significance each time you see Anderson's celebratory, confessional spot. Because My Life, My Card has the stylish breadth and the Crayola-bright look of Anderson's previous films, it raises your hopes for the splendidly eccentric movies we're thirsting for. But, as funny, lovely, and candid as this mini meta-movie is, given the paucity and slowness of the Eccentrics' output, it's just a mirage.
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