I’m a big fan of Wes Anderson and his name brought me back to the theaters after not having been since fast 9. I came in with little knowledge on the plot or details of the movie, which I try to do if it’s a director I feel like I can trust.
Anthology films haven’t been a hit yet for me, Buster Scruggs I never got into and besides Movie 43, I can’t think of another one off the top of my head besides maybe that Tim Roth hotel movie. So I was pleasantly disappointed when realizing the film I was watching was a set of 3 main sections backed with a magazine to glue it together. The idea of Bill Murray’s American French magazine was creative and the page numbers were a nice touch when moving through the articles/stories.
The first large piece, the one
following Owen Wilson’s short bit, was my favorite by far. Benecio del
Toro, Adrien Brody, the French bond woman, and Tilda Swinton were great.
Every part of this section was perfect and I enjoyed the whole thing. Could have been a movie itself.
The second section with 2021’s biggest star and star of every movie this year, annoyingly, Timothee Chalamant is a student activist with Frances McDormand as a journalist. This section was my least liked one. Almost every character in this portion grinded my gears in a way similar to that of someone at a subway station handing me flyers to save the turtles while asking for my email, as they add buzzfeed articles to their Instagram story. McDormand plays a typical role for herself as a quiet and low esteemed person trying to accomplish some task. Like Fargo, or burn after reading but without being funny this time. Maybe the issue is I’m expecting the quality of performance that her working with her husband provides. She seems to be trying to fit into the Wes Anderson world by mimicking other staples of his work instead of creating a new odd character. Timothee Chalomant's cause of annoyance to me might be sourced from the constant shoving of ads for dune I get with his face on it and his ever presence on the Instagram explore page for some reason. Sounds kind of like I’m actively hunting for pictures of his jawline but if I could somehow click a checkbox to get rid of him from appearing on my internet I would. The third character, motorcycle helmet girl, I feel bad for hating on as much as I want to because I feel like she unjustly got a terrible role to fill as a very annoying and stubborn activist who butts heads in an obviously romantic way with Tim. Please never put that helmet on with those bangs again. This chapter also felt long and could potentially been cut to give more time to the superior first and third section.
Third section was carried single handedly by Jeffrey wrights voice. Edward Norton’s role is hilariously minimal even though I felt like he was a somewhat prominent advertising point for the film. But his cameo level appearance dunked on with Saoirse Ronan’s 12 seconds of screen time. This section, as an unqualified filmmaker, could have benefited by cutting back on Jeffrey wrights story and giving him and Bill Murray more screen time together. I liked that aspect of the sections arc the most and could have helped make the under developed kid held hostage feel so dragged on, by making the surrounding content around the kid’s story shorter and giving it to a present day Jeffrey Wright instead. The chef ending was great as he was laying on the hospital bed and bill Murray’s response to him trying to cut such an ender.
So based on me spilling thoughts on the film into my iPhone, I’m now coming to the conclusion that cutting Frances McDormands story entirely and giving that time to the magazine instead would have helped in my opinion. The movie is let down by not having characters that you form a really strong relationship with, something Wes Anderson had proven before that he is great at in the past. Bill Murray’s character as a dying lead editor and owner of the magazine should of been a bigger hit in the heart rather than just me being excited that the film is finally over. Owen Wilson in the crashing helicopter in life aquatic are moments of feelings that I did not come close to having once during this film. Closest I got to that was during the “c’mon c’mon” preview before the film started.
Final comments. I didn’t get into another area where I thought the film suffered, which was the huge disproportionate amount of style of substance. Usually Wes Anderson can balance that but this time the scale snapped in half causing substance to fly out the window like iron when I’m lifting weights. I was also hoping for a great soundtrack, something this film apparently skimped on and instead dedicated the budget to rolling set pieces and composited shots where everything is magically in sharp focus.
I’d give this movie a score of “2 Owen Wilsons of The 5 French Dispatch”, as in surprisingly soggy.
