saw ‘the french dispatch’ last night and was mostly indifferent to wes anderson’s cinematic habits: the ‘mixture of vintage tchotchkes, droll repartee, and houndstooth,’ the predictable camera work, the silences and knowing looks, the offering of large swathes of data and eccentricities floating freely throughout the film. couldn’t help thinking how white men have the power, privilege, and dollars to make their private obsessions profitably public.
i couldn’t sink my teeth into the film, an apparent homage to the new yorker, until the last story. until jeffrey wright.
in spite of the outlandish story he’s telling, he exudes such charisma, warmth and intelligence that for the first time, i felt invested and engaged. my husband leaned over and whispered how wright was channeling james baldwin (the closing credits confirmed that inspiration). it made sense. something elegant and recognizable. the heart of the film. hope he gets the accolades he deserves and many more movie roles.
#thefrenchdispatch #wesanderson #jeffreywright #shortmoviereview #jamesbaldwin