The French Dispatch

The French Dispatch
Starring Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand, Jeffrey Wright
Directed by Wes Anderson

Through the insurmountable amount of films that have ever been filmed, there's very few of them can be truly considered pieces of art. These films - known as art-house pieces - exist not to tickle the fancy of millions of average moviegoing citizens, but rather serve to be serious artistic works that doesn't spoon-feed plot and honestly in a sense doesn't care whether or not you actually even understand what's happening. Much like how the most beautiful, memorable pieces of art can incite differing views, emotions, and debates, such is the world of art-house filming. Wes Anderson is one of the most prolific, eccentric, and absolutely awe-inspiring directors of our time, delivering unforgettable ensemble pieces that transcend modern thought and provides a lightning-quick pace that warrants multiple viewings to even begin to grasp the total concept of his work. "The French Dispatch" is easily his most ambitious work to date, a dizzying blend of everything that makes Wes Anderson the film-making equivalent of Leonardo da Vinci, a film that heralds back to the heyday of journalism and the stories that shaped the worldview of their readers.

Arthur Howitzer Jr. (Bill Murray) is the editor of the successful newspaper The French Dispatch, and after he dies of a sudden heart attack, his final wishes are revealed: publication of the newspaper would be immediately suspended following one final farewell issue, where three articles from past editions are republished, along with an obituary. This is the film's framing devise, as each section of the film plays out like reading through the articles in the magazine, culminating in a final scene with all the reporters who gather to honor their late editor.

First up is The Cycling Reporter, which features Herbsaint Sazerac (Owen Wilson) as he traverses the seedy town of Ennui, France, pointing out its unique flavor and the harlots, heretics, and heathens who live therein.

In The Concrete Masterpiece, reporter J.K.L. Berensen (Tilda Swinton) tells the story of Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio del Toro), an artist who's imprisoned for murder and who finally finds his muse with female security guard Simone (Lea Seydoux), and who draws the attention of art dealer Julien Cadazio (Adrian Brody), who wishes to purchase the paintings he paints of Simone, and years later he returns to force Rosenthaler to come up with new paintings, which results in an all-out prison fight.

In Revisions to a Manifesto, reporter Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand) does a report on a student uprising in Ennui, led by young upstart Zeffirelli (Timothee Chalamet). Despite wanting to maintain journalistic neutrality, she finds herself drawn to the young leader and begins a romantic relationship, resulting in her editing his manifesto and adding her own appendix, to the chagrin of fellow revolutionary Juliette (Lyna Khoudri).

Finally, in The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner, reporter Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright) is interviewed on a television program to tell the story of his private dinner with the Commissaire of the Ennui police force, which was prepared by the legendary Lt. Nescaffier (Stephen Park). During the dinner, the Commissaire's son is kidnapped, and Wright travels with the Commissaire to get his son back.

In attempting to write synopsis for each of the stories of the film, it's like an ant trying to tell the story of Romeo & Juliet, and it doesn't even touch the precipice of greatness that graced the screen. It's poetry in motion, an expert painting brought to life, a film that needs to be seen to be fully appreciated - and seen again to transcend the word "appreciated" into a currently-unknown word. Wes Anderson pulls no punches here, and to be able to spend a day in his head would be akin to the most dizzying array of intelligence, art, and language one could behold in our vastly underutilized brain.

"The French Dispatch" is easily a work of art, showcasing some of the most intricate, delicate set pieces in Anderson's wide array of work (his set pieces are so unique and memorable that there's a book - Accidentally Wes Anderson - that takes the readers on a visionary journey to Anderson's stunning filming locations. From the opening scene of a man transcending multiple levels of stairs to deliver a platter of drinks to the vividly colorful editor's office and everywhere in-between, there's never a moment where you're not inspired by the set pieces you're beholding - almost as if you're watching a play unfold on the big screen without a moment to catch your breath.

Anderson drew inspiration for "The French Dispatch" from The New Yorker, and during the time when it was run by editor Harold Ross. Each of the reporters in the segments of the film were based off some of The New Yorker writers or people they spotlighted, including Joseph Mitchell (The Cycling Reporter), Rosamund Bernier (The Concrete Masterpiece), Mavis Gallant (Revisions to a Manifesto), and an amalgamation of James Baldwin and A.J. Liebling (The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner). The stories told through Anderson's eyes, however, are uniquely his - and serve the purpose of them being "more than meets the eye."

While the concept of The French Dispatch was supposed to be a factual weekly report on world politics, the arts (both high and low), and diverse stories of human interest, you can see through each of the three stories represented that there's much more than just that simplistic meaning, delivered with Anderson's own unique spitfire blend of nonstop monotone speeches, top-notch dedicated performances, and dazzling, unique set pieces and filming styles that blends into unforgettable stories.

The Concrete Masterpiece is "the arts (high and low)" segment of the movie, and while it does tell the story of a struggling painter literally a prisoner in a cage of his own doing, it also tells the story of the seedy underworld of art dealing, bribery, sexualization, and prison riots. Revisions to a Manifesto served as the "world politics" portion of the paper, but it also tells a deeper story of a lonely reporter who falls for her story, and immerses herself into the story itself, shedding any neutrality she once thought she could accomplish. The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner was supposed to be the "diverse stories of human interest" to focus on an acclaimed chef, but turns into an all-out police chase to save the son of the Commissaire. While all the stories were shot mostly in black-and-white, there's fleeting moments of color and uses of graphics, still life, visual puns, gags, and in one particular instance some of the most gut-rolling use of animation outside a Disney or Pixar film.

The performances are all exemplary, and there's not one that stands out among the rest - it's as if you're watching pure magic with no downtime, and no matter how big or small the role is, each actor was wholly committed to the project (when you have acclaimed actors like Willem Dafoe, Elisabeth Moss, and Saoirse Ronan delivering only a handful of lines and making them memorable, you know you've hit gold). Oftentimes large ensemble pieces are hindered by the egos of the actors involved, but here it doesn't seem to be the case - probably because Anderson called upon some of his most-used actors (Bill Murray, Tilda Swinton, Owen Wilson, Anjelica Huston, Jason Schwartzman, Adrian Brody, Edward Norton, Willem Dafoe, and more) who have decades of rapport with the director who share his unique visionary talent, along with newcomers Saoirse Ronan (who wet her feet with Anderson's previous work "The Grand Budapest Hotel"), Timothee Chalamet, Frances McDormand, Benicio del Toro, Elisabeth Moss, Jeffrey Wright, and Lea Seydoux who put the art before the ego, providing a unique, visionary tale to contemplate. Throw in a toe-tapping musical score by composer Alexandre Desplat, and you've got simply a film that defies expectations and goes beyond the written word and must be seen to be fully believed.

Proving there's an outlet for unique storytelling and visual grandiose, The French Dispatch is an art-house piece filled with impeccable performances, beautiful set pieces, and storytelling that can only come from the distinctive, beautiful minds of Wes Anderson and his committed troupe of writers.

The Score: A+