The French Dispatch - A Review

I had the absolute privilege of watching the new Wes Anderson film at one of the oldest cinema's in Copenhagen, The Grand Theatre (Grand Teatret in Danish). From the checkerboard floor in the entrance hall to the beautiful warmth of red velour in my screening room, I knew it was the perfect setting to watch this film.

I honestly could not recommend this cinema enough; If you happen to be a film-lover wandering the canals of Denmark's capital then please, do not miss it. The Grand Theatre is not only the perfect escape from the Nordic cold but it has so much history and is charming.

Anyway, onto the film. In all honesty I haven't seen a plethora of Anderson's films but even the ones I have seen make it easy to appreciate him as an auteur. Not only are his films renowned for their unique visual style and great casting but their intriguingly absurd storylines and settings. In this way, The French Dispatch was the epitome of Wes Anderson art. Set in the wittily-named town of Ennui, or Ennui-sur-Blasé in full, the story follows the death of a newspaper editor and the articles and obituary that are published in the paper's final issue. Proving to be the antithesis of the town's name, The French Dispatch is a magazine-like-movie filled with quirky characters, comedic action, chucklesome humour and scintillating cinematography.

From the opening credits to the end ones, the most enjoyable aspect of the film, for me, was the visuals. As in most of his films, and certainly through The French Dispatch, Anderson reiterates himself as a distinguished auteur and master of the mise-en-scène. Of course, as in any Anderson film, it is all in the fine details; yet it is also through the use of sui generis shots and techniques, such as the tableaux vivant, that make this film so visually rich. I also found the decision to switch between black & white and colour, as well as the use of both live-action and animation, kept the viewer interested and on their toes. I read a fascinating BTS article on the complex intricacies of creating this production and am linking it here for anyone else to read.

From an aesthetic standpoint, one of my favourite moments is at the beginning of the film. The audience see's a waiter pile up a tray and proceed to one-handedly run up the office building of the French Dispatch. The scene itself bares little significance to the grand scheme of the plot and it sounds rather silly when I write it but, honestly, sometimes the simplest things are the most effective, and I thought it was brilliant. It was stimulating to the eye and, without ruining it, warranted a heartfelt chuckle. It was quintessentially Wes Anderson.

The first article we encounter is titled 'The

Concrete Masterpiece.' This story centres on Benicio del Toro's character Moses Rosenthaler, an incarcerated psychopath and abstract artist. It is a cleverly written story filled with great cast performances and was arguably my favourite of the three articles. The endearing yet complicated relationships shown between Rosenthaler, his muse Simone (Léa Seydoux) and his art dealer (Adrien Brody) is what really stood out for me in this segment. In combination with the perfectly timed comedic twists, 'The Concrete Masterpiece' made for a satisfying tale of neuropsychiatric disorder, love, inspiration, art, greed and empathy. Honestly, I enjoyed this portion so much that I think it would hold up as a stand alone short film. So, kudos to Mr. Anderson and the incredible actors that brought this absurdist story to life.

The second story we encounter is called 'Revisions to a Manifesto.' The protagonists of the story are student revolutionaries Zeferelli and Juliette, played by Timothée Chalamet and Lynda Khoudri, and renowned French Dispatch journalist Lucinda Krementz, played by Frances McDormand. Visually I thought this was one of the most appealing segments, with carefully orchestrated composition and an excellent use of contrast between the colour and black and white scenes. When the moments of colour came they really stood out and drew the eyes in and, as I have since researched, this was the precise intention.

In combination with the visual elements of this portion, I was most fond of the triangular relationship presented between the protagonists and the blunt and witty sarcasm that oozes from the trio. I thought it was an amusing portrayal of the narcissistic youth and the male-female narrative and I truly appreciated the adroitly ironic ending. I also must add that the casting choice for these characters, I believe, was spot on and their chemistry was just right.

Moving on, we come to the final article in the publication, 'The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner.' I love films that are centred around cooking or food and so, unsurprisingly, one of my favourite parts of the film was seeing Stephen Parks' character, Lt. Nescaffier, as a highly-skilled chef.

There is a great scene where the camera slides , presumably on a dolly, to show three Nescaffier's deplucking poultry; it is an evidently clever play on time and the way it is shot makes it intensely interesting. Yet, even though I enjoyed this story and felt like it was one of the most 'neatly-tied' of the three, I felt like it was a little too long; in particular the scenes with the talk show host. A lot of people may disagree with me here, but that is the beauty of subjective art, it merely comes down to personal taste and opinion.

My final note on this story surrounds the animation that is used in combination with live-action. I was utterly surprised when part of this tale presented itself through comic-book style animation. It was a welcome yet totally unsuspected shift for the viewer; a happily welcomed shock. The animation component brought a different kind of story-telling aspect to this particular story, and to the film as a whole, as it was the first and only time we see it used in The French Dispatch. I thought it was a quirky and playful choice that added an extra layer to this part of the film.

Then, after this third and final article the story moves on. In order to pull everything back together we return to the primary reason behind the final articles' publication; the death of the editor. I won't bore you with too much on the obituary but I found all of the scenes held in the office of the French Dispatch to be the glue which held the, somewhat fragmented, articles together. For me it was a 'necessary' aspect of this whirlwind of a film. From the jocular 'no crying' moments and the engaging characters to the exceptional use of tableaux vivant it made for an enjoyable and integral part of the storyline.

Now, as much as I enjoyed the aesthetics of the film, I feel like I can't leave this article without saying that at some points I found the film to feel quite disconnected. Perhaps this is down to it's magazine-like layout or, what I deem to be, the excessive use of flamboyant language but it is just the way I felt. Throughout the film, however, Bill Murray's character, the editor, is always reminding the other journalists to "make it sound like you wrote it that way on purpose," and in some ways I think that the ornate language used by Anderson is in fact a direct reflection of this very line, which on reflection is most clever. Additionally, despite the ingenuity of the film, its incredible cast and stimulating visuals I cannot discount the fact that at around three-quarters of the way through The French Dispatch I became acutely aware that I was in a cinema wondering how long was left. I would like to have seen what it was like had ten to fifteen minutes of runtime been carefully edited out. But, perhaps I was so overwhelmed by the abundance of stimuli in the film that I have to see it for a second-time to truly appreciate its greatness as, admittedly, I have found with other films.

In conclusion, however, I found that when it came to rating the latest Wes Anderson film it posed to be quite a challenge. As I left the Grand Theatre and wandered home through the wintery Copenhagen streets discussing the film with my brother, we both held the same conflict of emotions. On the one hand I was in awe at the films visual splendour, its wit and the believability of such eccentric characters, but on the other I felt a little confused as, at some points, I found it rather fragmented and, dare I say it, unduly lengthy. In the end I decided to give it a 7/10 on IMDb as despite the minor qualms I had about the film it didn't override the joy it gave me, so I felt it was most fair.

Let me know your thoughts! I really am intrigued as I think different people will have such different opinions on this one.