A.K.A. The French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun
You always know a Wes Anderson movie when you see one. And while you could certainly argue that his quirky and artificial visual palette has grown slightly stale over the years, and that he never really branches out or challenges himself, I at least appreciate that the man has a unique voice and a trademark style. It's what allows me to get sucked into his worlds, even when I'm not particularly interested in what they have to say.
Such is the case with The French Dispatch (I'm not typing out that entire title again). After Isle of Dogs, it's perhaps the least invested I've ever been in any of his narratives, and the writing here is so verbose relative to what's actually being said that Anderson's verging even closer to self-important territory, yet I still found myself being taken by the framing, the casting, the amusing subtitles, and the sparing use of colour. Once again, that goddamn aesthetic won me over.
The anthology structuring is also pretty cute. It makes for a slightly uneven result (the first story tickled me, the second one very much didn't, and the third fell somewhere in between), and doesn't leave much room for emotional involvement, but I think it fits Anderson's dollhouse vibe remarkably well.
Grade: B+
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