The French Dispatch
Director: Wes Anderson
Screenwriter: Wes Anderson
Cinematographer: Robert D. Yeoman
Production Companies: Indian Paintbrush, American Empirical Pictures, Studio Babelsberg
Distributor: Searchlight Pictures
Release Date: 22 October 2021
Runtime: 1 hour 43 minutes
MPA Rating: R
Availability: Theaters
Synopsis
Wes Anderson brings the printed word to life in his latest film The French Dispatch. Set in the fictional 20th-century French city of Ennui-sur-Blasé, the movie immerses you in the stories written about “real-life” people and events by journalists of The French Dispatch – ran by the straight-laced Arthur Howitzer Jr. (Bill Murray). The key figures and events of each story seem almost larger than life: the first one revolves around a mentally disturbed and imprisoned artist whose talents have garnered the attention of an opportunistic art curator, the second follows a clash between a group of rebellious college students and the school’s conservative administrators, and the last around the kidnapping of the police commissioner’s son by a motley crew of thugs. You’ll feel like you’re on a cinematic joyride as Anderson’s aesthetic style, unique characters, and drastic shifts in tone deliver sensationalized narratives that you won’t be able to take your eyes off of.
Analysis
One aspect of the film I really enjoyed was its arresting and dynamic visual style. All of Anderson’s films are known for having excellent framing, and the same holds for The French Dispatch. Each scene is shot intentionally enough that your focus is naturally drawn to the most important elements, but you still see enough of the background to be seamlessly placed into the world. The way the camera is positioned and moved helps establish a tone for a particular scene; for example, scenes with many quick cuts imply character anxiety and put the viewer on edge, while those where the camera is fixed are perfect complements for comically awkward interactions. The movie’s use of various color palettes and mediums also keeps it visually fresh and spontaneous. Subtle but effective color saturation makes each scene shot in the “absolute present” (i.e., the point in time when Howitzer is reviewing the articles) look like a warm painting set in motion. Most of the flashbacks are shot in a crisp black-and-white that produces sharply defined images and highlights even the subtlest of details. Colored shots are also interspersed throughout flashbacks, symbolizing how certain moments are so pivotal that their impact is still felt in the present. There are even a few stop-motion – yet still live-action – sequences and scenes rendered entirely through newspaper comic panels that give the movie a more cartoonishly fantastical feel.
Each scene and story are so intricately designed they run like clockwork. One major component of this is the movie’s well-crafted dialogue. Scenes where characters exchange witty banter and snarky remarks in the blink of an eye go at a brisk pace. The movie’s tempo slows down during scenes where characters are talking while in deep contemplation, but it never eases into a crawl given how much thought they put into their words. And somewhere in the middle are those scenes where characters recite their lines in a theatrical cadence, making the film occasionally feel more like a play. The mix of whimsical humor, tragedy, and heart within each story keeps you engaged by putting you on an emotional rollercoaster. But the most noticeable structural element is the unique handling of time. The plot advances in the shape of a tree: after progressing linearly from a key point, it eventually branches out into the past or “relative future” (i.e., when Howitzer is reading the article), and then will either jump back into the present or again wander into the past or future. Although there’s obviously nothing wrong with linear storytelling, Anderson’s nonlinear approach makes the plot come alive by showing how interconnected the past, present, and future are. The novelty of this tactic also never wears off because you’re constantly receiving new information that will add to your understanding of a specific character or event.
However, the aspect of the film I appreciated most was its focus on telling very human stories. I found myself caring a lot about these stories’ protagonists and writers because of how three-dimensional and ultimately tragic they were. These characters command the viewer’s attention with their passion for their craft and the magnetism of their personalities. They’re so inspiring in the way that they stick to their values it’s almost comical. At the same time, these people aren’t superhuman; the movie explores their vulnerabilities in great depth, and does a great job at showing how some of these characters’ personality traits and actions are how they overcome these “weaknesses”. Rather than being neutral third-party narrators, the writers themselves are active participants in the stories they put to paper; the way these journalists become emotionally invested in the people they profile and events they get wrapped up in makes a lot of sense as you learn more about them. And more than being strictly an anthology series, Anderson uses these stories as mediums to describe various facets of the human experience. They provide narrative venues for him to analyze how one’s passion can be both their escape from and source of pain, how you may wish to be treated as an adult while young yet yearn to be youthful again as you grow older, and how being an outsider can drive someone to go above and beyond expectations to show others that they truly belong. The relatability of these stories’ subject matter strengthens the connection the audience has with them: one viewer may feel connected to a specific story because they’ve experienced something similar, while another viewer may at least empathize with a character because their struggle is much more grounded and personal than abstract. In essence, we see parts of ourselves – either as individuals or a collective whole – reflected in the main characters and trials they endure, which helps further our emotional investment because the overall narrative feels authentically human.
Conclusion
To close, there’s absolutely no reason why you shouldn’t watch The French Dispatch. Its arresting visual style, unique plot construction, and emphasis on characters make for an enjoyable and emotional viewing experience. The movie may not be perfect, but I felt that its flaws (e.g., the nonlinear storytelling does require you to be paying attention at all times) were so small and rare that they weren’t really worth analyzing. This is easily my favorite movie of the year so far, and I hope that it leaves the same impact on you that it did on me.