The master of quirk’s return is both a tribute to his adopted country of France and a nod to American magazines that nurtured his talents like The New Yorker. It’s a dazzling celebration of cinematic aesthetics and a feast for the eyes. At other times, the style overwhelms any substance the script might have to offer ( Isle of Dogs). Sometimes this alchemy weaves seamlessly into his stories as in the engrossing tragicomedy of The Royal Tenenbaums or the madcap fantasy of The Grand Budapest Hotel. From the muted color palettes and dollhouse-styled production designs to his soundtracks filled with British Invasion bands, an Anderson movie is like a collective homage to French New Wave cinema, ’30s screwball comedies and ’60s pop culture. It’s undeniable that his true passion lies in the storybook look and tone of his films. They’re not necessarily multifaceted, but they do speak to the obsessive nature of human frailty.Īnd if ever there was a filmmaker whose greatest attribute was world-building, Anderson would be it. Salinger or Anthony Trollope-two writers whose books possess distinct airs, whimsical personalities and cursory speech patterns-Anderson’s cinematic realm is populated with naturally gifted, overly-poised but deeply neurotic characters who scurry and flit through their lives without ever stopping to reflect on them.
You only have to watch a few seconds of Wes Anderson‘s The French Dispatch to know who’s pulling the strings. Bill Murray in Wes Anderson's 'The French Dispatch' Searchlight Pictures
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