The French Dispatch is a heartfelt ode to the yesteryear of magazine journalism

PRABHJOT BAINS

Wes Anderson has always had a penchant for framing his narratives within storybook-like conceits. From The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) to The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), Anderson has never shied away from conveying earnest portraits of family, grief, and innocence within his niche filmmaking style. He obsessively wraps his heartfelt stories in the loveable veneer of a quirky novel. Yet, The French Dispatch marks the first time that the “storybook” itself takes centerstage. Here, Anderson makes the journalistic magazine the focal point of his cinematic efforts, and it results in a meticulously detailed, dazzling, and melancholic celebration of the innate power of storytelling.

Detailing a specific foreign bureau of the fictional Liberty Kansas Evening Sun, The French Dispatch centres around four separate stories being collated for the magazine’s final issue by its esteemed editor-in-chief, Arthur Howitzer Jr. (Bill Murray). The stories include a short travelogue by the endearing cyclist Herbsaint Sazerac, an arts report focusing on the exploits of a prisoner artist by J.K.L. Berensen (Tilda Swinton), a political document of a student uprising by Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand), and a moving food editorial about a renowned police chef by Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright). The stories are bookended by a prologue and epilogue detailing the history and current state of the publication.

In typical Wes Anderson fashion, each chapter is steeped in witty dialogue and intricate set designs, all seamlessly united in his trademark symmetrical shot composition. Each frame is packed to the brim, making it impossible to appreciate each detail on the first viewing. The film echoes Anderson’s love for journalist magazines, as each scene serves as a periodical that begs to be poured over time and time again.

Yet for all the wonder that beams on screen, Anderson will still not win over any naysayers as he leans more heavily than ever into his idiosyncratic style, making it clear that he won’t let any detractors sway his cinematic vision. Film lovers will undoubtedly find that commendable, especially because his vision is so wholly original. Anderson’s characters are unmistakably his, and the personalities that populate his world are at once both dumbfoundingly peculiar and spectacularly charming. These are all people who you would want to stumble into at a bar, so that you could listen to them describe all of the whimsical adventures that they’ve been on. Who could forget the beauty Sazerac sees in the sleazy and clockwork-like town of Ennui-sur-Blasé, or the way Wright describes the poetry within police cooking? These might sound like ridiculous scenarios with an even weirder cast of characters, but Anderson never forgets to imbue them with heartfelt emotion, making you feel the undeniable deep-seated humanity that underlies each story.

However, the sheer charm inherent in each story makes it that much more painful when they conclude. Each chapter is overflowing with so many ideas and interesting personalities that they could have all been expanded into their own feature length picture. Because of this, some segments couldn’t help feeling a little undercooked, leaving us wanting more. Yet, this feeling is soothed by the realization that another sprawling story is just around the corner.

The French Dispatch features a vast A-list cast, many of whom flutter in and out at a rapid rate, lending a vibrant colour to each chapter for the few minutes that they grace the screen. However, it is arguably Jeffery Wright who gives the most memorable performance in the film as his captivating journalist character, Roebuck Wright. Wright exudes a simultaneous confidence and vulnerability, making one especially receptive to how he portrays the majestic nature of police cooking and the predicament he finds himself in during the later parts of his segment.

This is the most Wes Andersonion film Wes Anderson has ever made, and because of that, people who are not already the greatest of fans won’t find much to love. But those of us who hopped on the Anderson train a long time ago will be enamoured by his vision from the first frame. For all of the peculiarity embedded in this tale, it is still one that is human to its core, making it undoubtedly clear that many will find much to laugh, cry, and reflect on when the credits roll. This is one of the greatest films of the year, and it will assuredly be one that will provide a new treat upon each subsequent viewing.