The French Dispatch
searchlight picturesWhile his quality has fluctuated from film to film, Wes Anderson has at the very least remained one of the more interesting directors working today. With a style and craft unlike any other, Anderson has found brilliant reflections on the human condition proving to be capable of creating 5-star content. He also, however, has become lost at times to aesthetics and visuals, resulting in lackluster features of little substance or reward. Every project from Anderson feels as if it could go either way in this regard but even with this acknowledgment of fault, Anderson's newest feature The French Dispatch comes as a bit of a shock. Following the death of Arthur Howitzer Jr. (Bill Murray) – the editor-in-chief of The French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun, the paper publishes its final edition. The film, which is named after the newspaper, brings this closing issue to life by bringing its various stories and sections to life on the big screen while small glimpses of the creative process are seen throughout.
While Wes Anderson has struggled to find depth and poignance in some of his other features that focus more on aesthetic, none feel quite as reductive to the filmmaker as The French Dispatch, which feels nearly exclusively interested in its visual design. Introducing the structure of the film – which includes an opening travel section, 3 main individual stories, and an obituary – the size of the film is immediately realised with audiences knowing exactly which story beats need to be hit before the film will come to an end. This almost feels taxing at times, as audiences are consistently aware of what is to come never fully allowing them to fully lose themselves within the film. One way it would have been able to battle this is by engaging the audience on a deeper emotional level, but The French Dispatch has seemingly no interest in being anything but surface level. These stories are clearly designed for Anderson to have fun with production design and visuals. While one could claim that Anderson is attempting to share a love for journalism with even multiple characters being based on real-life journalists, the film exists in the unique realm of Wes Anderson fantasy that feels void of the reality of the process.
To better understand the collection that is The French Dispatch as a whole, it feels worthwhile to explore each curated piece of its runtime and get into the specifics of every unique story. After an initial roll call that introduces the characters and paper the audience will be spending the film with, the audience travels with Herbsaint Sazerac (Owen Wilson) to the fictitious French city of Ennui-sur-Blasé. There, Sazerac looks at the way of life and, particularly, the uglier side of the town – including focusing on urinals and dead bodies floating in its river. As an opening, this segment is charming enough with Wilson giving an honest conviction in his interest of the everyday world and, overall, this segment carries a lovely sense of community and charm. It also is undoubtedly helped by its shorter length, not considered a major part of the story. Acting almost like a shot of espresso before the multi-course dinner, it is hard to be angry with anything from this segment even if it ultimately proves unremarkable.
The first main story of the film is titled The Concrete Masterpiece by J.K.L. Berensen (Tilda Swinton). This segment opens with Berensen giving a lecture about the life and work of an incarcerated artist named Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio del Toro). In prison, Rosenthaler catches the attention of art dealer Julien Cadazio (Adrien Brody) who shares his work with the outside world and turns Rosenthaler into one of the most popular artists of his generation. While there is a brooding sense of lust and passion found within this section, there simply is no bite. Benicio del Toro feels as if he is simply going through the motions, causing things such as his relationship with prison security guard Simone (Léa Seydoux) never fully developing how it should. This is the portion of the film where it becomes clear that, rather than building a thesis, The French Dispatch is more concerned with its visual presentation. While there is a single moment of true poignance found towards the end of the segment, it is a far cry from being anything revolutionary or memorable. This will quickly become apparent to be a trend throughout the film.
The second story is clearly the best of the bunch: Revisions to a Manifesto by Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand) sees a student revolution led by the sweet yet nieve Zeffirelli (Timothée Chalamet) who has a love-hate relationship with the more radical student leader Juliette (Lyna Khoudri). While the story of this section never has the time to branch out into being something super memorable or well-developed, this section easily has the most engaging characters and emotions. Chalamet is rather stellar here, providing plenty of personality. McDormand might be a step behind but also is rather strong with her character, offering the most intriguing questions of the entire feature. She wants to maintain journalistic neutrality but can't help herself from getting into the middle of the story. From helping proofread manifestoes to sleeping with Zeffirelli, Krementz is anything but fair and easily feels like the most developed character of the entire project. If there was one section of the film that feels as if it could truly be a full feature, it would be this – yet that fact in itself is rather tragic, as the film simply teases the audience with the potential of its story with no intention of living up to it. It does demand to be said, however, that the production design within this section is unbelievable and easily is some of the best work of the year in that category.
Finally, there is The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner by Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright). Meant as a food section, this tells the story of a police Commissaire's son getting kidnapped and the efforts to save him. Using a sparingly animated style, this area shows promise, but being really the 4th story of the film it is hard for it to build momentum. It feels rather obvious that this segment should have been completely animated as these breathe a needed life into the film. Outside of these scenes, there is little to grab audiences here outside of a rather powerful gut-punch towards the end but that fades quickly. It also is criminal how badly this section wastes Willem Dafoe.
The conclusion sees all the writers come together and learn about the death of Arthur Howitzer Jr., but to say the audience has any reason to care would simply be a lie. The audience doesn’t know really anything about this man outside of a few exposition dumps and it seemingly has nothing to do with the rest of the film. This isn’t some grand conclusion being built but rather an empty conclusion that ends the film with a cold draft rather than an impactful blizzard.
While every story might have at least 1 line of note, the rest is filler. Though a clear technical achievement, the film never solidifies into anything more than an experiment of narrative and structure, which is almost embarrassing coming as the 10th film coming from Wes Anderson. It is hard to say that any piece of technical craft here even comes close to touching that on display in projects like The Grand Budapest Hotel yet the film proves to be incompetent of finding any of the same depth or emotional weight. Had this been an early feature, it would be undeniably strong but considering Anderson has done so much more technically in the past while also having a strong thesis, the project feels reductive and disappointing for the filmmaker. It leaves nearly no impact and the actual viewing experience is simply boring. It ultimately serves no purpose other than satisfying Anderson's own goals as a filmmaker which while respectable enough, is still a frustrating watch for an audience.
