Directed By Wes Anderson

Starring – Benicio Del Toro, Adrien Brody, Tilda Swinton

The Plot – After the untimely death of the magazine’s founding father, the grieving son/editor (Bill Murray) rallies the writers together for one final issue, involving the three biggest articles ever published in the duration of The French Dispatch.

Rated R for graphic nudity, some sexual references and adult language

THE FRENCH DISPATCH | Official Trailer | Searchlight Pictures – YouTube

POSITIVES

– Spell-binding direction. Anderson is one of those rare generational visionaries whose familiarity for the unorthodox in production helps to craft something that is cinematically transformative in every way possible. Those same elements of familiarity are on display here once more, whether it be the sharp movements of the lens, the picturesque framing of some breathtaking establishing shots, the vibrancy of a color-coated coordinated production design, or the seamless attention to profile with the movie’s wardrobe that offers a geographically stimulating delve into everything French culture. Everything plays a key ingredient in such a meticulous presentation with so much time and ample detail deposited to the various shots and corresponding experience, giving us an illuminatingly intoxicating experience in Anderson’s tenth feature length film that ages timelessly like a fine wine of the most indulgent kind.

– Storytelling device. To my surprise after a trailer that was anything but revealing with regards to the movie’s thematic impulses, the story structure here is an anthology effort, with three different stories (Food, politics, art sections) sharing the screen for audience adoration. This not only works tremendously within the confines of the plot of the movie, in which an aging newspaper is stitching together their best articles for a goodbye issue, but also in Anderson’s desire to decorate the film with as many big name personalities to fill so much opportunity in the depths of each particular story. It’s definitely something uniquely challenging for Wes, in that he’s essentially giving audiences three stories for the price of one, and while the storytelling does run into some problems of its own, to which I will get to much later, the gimmick itself succeeds fruitfully with an immersive undertaking that looks, sounds, and feels like the pages of a journalistic newspaper.

– Dialogue structure. Another interesting commanding that Anderson takes seriously, is the distinctly different aspects of tone and personality crafted in the dual worlds of dialogue in the film that resonate authenticity accordingly. For the overhead narration pertaining to the trio of editorials, there’s a novelesque description to all of the sights and sounds that document verbs as a vivid paintbrush meant to immerse audiences in the engagement. For the natural dialogue between editors in and around the newsroom, Anderson’s caustic wit surmises a cynically tasteful level of banter that not only feeds wonderfully towards the director’s one of a kind tonal consistency, but also helps to paint the rich history and traditions of the paper effortlessly, especially that of the corresponding writers with paper editor Arthur Howitzer (Played by Bill Murray), who runs a tight ship with what’s constantly expected.

– Audible layers. Iconic composer and longtime Anderson collaborator Alexandre Desplat supplants what I consider to be his most eclectic and ambitious work to date, with a series of compositions that breed versatility. Part of it certainly comes in the confines of a trio of different stories, asking Desplat to paint each of them with something sharply concise and compelling to underscore the urgency of each story, but for my money it’s the obvious nature of diverse instruments that keep anything from feeling dully repetitive. In particular, Desplat’s work during the third story, feels most moody and ominously protruding than the consistency of the other two stories, outlining the kind of darkness and devastation we’re not typically used to hearing from more light-hearted Anderson efforts, all the while serving as an eerie layering to 20th century French animation of the most unnerving kind.

– Art design. You might be surprised to hear that The French Dispatch newspaper never existed in the first place, and instead the film is a heartfelt homage to Anderson’s love of The New Yorker, which filled in the gaps at an early age in his love for all things pop culture. Because of such, one unique aspect that Anderson prescribes to the integrity of the picture, as well as the authenticity of the gimmick, is a combination of cover work illustrations and pages that put us front and center in the clutches of the magazine’s experience. The covers themselves are beautifully created by Spanish illustrator Javi Aznarez, whose inspiration for The New Yorker provided no shortage of ambient color and city landscapes in articulating a stylistic magazine with such a rich sense of community in the depths of its pride. They are most apparent during the closing credits, but can be found sporadically during the entirety of the film, measuring an experience that Anderson and production approached with anything other than a topical sense of exploration.

– Weighty cinematography. What visual siesta would be complete without a delve into the schemes and concepts of a bigger purpose? While Anderson is responsible for much of the gorgeously evocative layering of the set design and choreography of color that splashes its way across a variety of shot compositions, the uniqueness of some concepts within the lens are conjured from Robert D. Yeoman, who entranced me repeatedly with originality for storyboard movements. Some pertain to the hypnotically potent 35 mm camera lenses used during colorless sequences that convey a rich sense of documentation within a particular place in time, stitched smoothly into the fabric of the movie’s whimsical presentation with a spontaneity so subtle that you may initially miss it upon transformation. In addition to this, I loved the deconstruction taking shape subtly in the backdrop of these many on-foot sequences, where an actor is sifting through a multitude of sets, and we sometimes see creative ways for how they intersect through such. It gives much of the settings a model to scale outline that not only serves as a faithful homage to golden age cinema, but also one with an appreciation and traditionalism for French architecture, to which Yeoman is the architect.

NEGATIVES

– Wasted cast. One of the biggest ensembles of the entire 2021 movie year sputters away without a single compelling performance between any of them. Part of the blame is within the confines of the movie’s tonal consistency, which often sacrifices emotion and vulnerability for intentionally dry line delivery that doesn’t do any of these three stories any favors in articulating its emphasis. The other pertains to this being such a monumental assortment of talent within a 103 minute run time that keeps the law of returns feeling sparse, considering the level of talent that Anderson calls upon. The closest to reaching something substantial is Jeffrey Wright or Benicio Del Toro, who add something evident in their varied vocal deliveries to the lines crafted to them, but the emotional vapidness from each of them underscores climaxes during separate climaxes, and speaks volumes to the bigger conflicts that ensemble efforts often face in too much with too little.

– Miscalculated steps. You might be wondering why I haven’t mentioned anything about the storytelling for the film, and it’s because this is easily the most detached efforts I’ve felt from a man who has made a career out of testing his audience. On a surface level, only one of the three stories, the first, felt compelling to me, earning all of its 30 minutes with exposition and a materializing conflict that demanded a feature length for Anderson exploration. The other two not only end abruptly with what can barely be considered a resolution, but they also feel stretched to the point that they outline themselves more like an idea, instead of a fully fleshed-out exploration that justified the balance of its timing. It’s possible that Anderson enthusiasts will love this all the same, but for my money the dejected result of three stories fighting over the time allowance of one made for a frustratingly arduous experience, and one that I would be fine never watching again.

– Flat humor. This is most unfortunate for me because it’s Anderson’s charming wits that often illuminate a path of indulgence for me during films that otherwise don’t strike to my appeal, but the material here feels mostly lukewarm in zeroing in on the occasionally twisted dark humor that Anderson is heralded for, giving his stories an endearing consequence to an otherwise fantastical approach. There were a couple of times during the first story where I felt an essence of that same description, but nothing memorable that I can quote only an hour after finishing the movie. As for the other two stories, their material begs for comic levity, but it comes and goes without even a semblance of such an occasion, wiping away the charm and quirkiness within a script that loudly conveys all style, no substance to the initial interpretation of the engagement.

My Grade: 6/10 or C+