The French Dispatch

Wes Anderson’s new film, The French Dispatch, might be his best yet. His quirky style is refined to an immaculate execution, and the concept of an anthology film is done in an amusingly fresh sense of perspective. Stories within stories, the narrators are characters themselves as they express their own experience of their writings. As per usual with Wes Anderson, this film is unlike any other coming out this year, so why not watch it on the big screen?

There is a general consensus when it comes to Anderson’s films that his style eclipses his stories. The visual flare and bizarre dialogue, dancing under a verbose narrator, is his calling card, which I believe is fully refined in The French Dispatch. Some of the shots he manages to accomplish are just impressive. They are packed tight with the star studded cast with enough room to sprinkle in countless jokes and props like a magazine cover in every shot. The pacing flies through the compositions as if they are ordinary, oftentimes showing the painterly framing in a flash before cutting to a new setting altogether, yet it never feels too fast. Over time, the imagery and narration begins to wash over you, so even without the story, this film truly accomplishes the saying, “every frame a painting.”

There are so many characters and settings and branching stories in this film that finding one connecting theme would be impossible, yet Anderson does it so easily. Most of the stories are told in black and white, but suddenly shots blast with color. The meaning, though not stated directly and rarely focused on, bleeds off the screen in its artistic soul. This film is not a pointless attempt to be pretty. Its vision is calculated, saving the color when it chooses to romanticize. The chase scenes and celebrity cameos are fun, but the film keeps those moments in the shadow of what it sees as important.

This film and its entire existence is a love letter to journalism. The writers are as colorful as their subjects, and their passion is encouraged by their editor to heighten the story. Each story looks at the world as a boundless playground to witness, collecting pieces of history in crumpled notebook pages and napkins. It gives the story-worlds texture, shining a fresh light on our own world to maybe inspire new journalists in the future.

The one piece of this film that does not get enough of the spotlight is Bill Murray. I understand his character’s role, but I was not convinced with his brief runtime. I needed more, maybe one more scene with just him to exist in a vacuum. As the editor, every other character has a special connection to him, yet we never have the chance to make one ourselves. His presence is brief, almost wonderful, but when the film asks you to see him as the connecting heart of the story, it's hard to find the pulse everyone else is feeling.

Overall, Wes Anderson crafts an excellent experience that both entertains and inspires. The painterly camerawork somehow keeps its aesthetic at every angle, even when it switches to handheld — which is an incredible surprise to Anderson’s technique. The use of color both bewilders and fills you with wonder, as if pulling the veil off your eyes to show you that the world is always filled with such color if you look hard enough. My favorite story is “The Concrete Masterpiece by J.K.L. Berensen” (played by Benicio Del Toro with a hilarious narration from Tilda Swinton), but I think outside the stories themselves, Owen Wilson’s snippet is hilarious. This is my new favorite Wes Anderson film, and I hope it becomes yours as well. It is definitely something to see in all its glory on the big screen.

Story Rating: 9/10

Character Rating: 8/10

Entertainment Rating: 9/10