‘The French Dispatch’ Non-Spoiler Review: An Entertaining But Unfulfilling Risk

Wes Anderson has long been known as one of the most unique voices in film. From The Grand Budapest Hotel to Moonrise Kingdom to Fantastic Mr. Fox,  it doesn’t matter which Wes Anderson film you’re watching to know one thing very distinctly: it’s a Wes Anderson film. For better and for worse, The French Dispatch is no different.

The French Dispatch occurs in the 20th century fictional town of Ennui, France, where the titular magazine’s founder Arthur Horowitzer, Jr. (Bill Murray), passes away at the beginning of the film. As prescribed in his will, the magazine was meant to publish three previously-unpublished stories alongside his obituary after his death in what would be the final issue. The French Dispatch follows the magazine’s writers as they recount these three stories, each one spanning about 30 minutes in length for the viewer and acting as the film’s first, second and third acts.

It’s been said that The French Dispatch is Wes Anderson at his… well, at his Wes Andersonnest, and that statement couldn’t be more true. The film has every beat you expect from him: the quirky writing, the eccentric creativity, and the carefully intentional shot composition. It assembles a star-studded cast whose performances are nothing short of whimsical. Amongst them includes Timothée Chalamet, Benicio Del Toro, Frances McDormand, Jeffrey Wright, Owen Wilson, and more. Despite a stellar cast and all of Anderson’s eccentricities, though, The French Dispatch fails to successfully grip its audience for too long before eventually and repeatedly losing it.

As a storyteller, there’s an inherent narrative risk involved when telling a story the way Anderson does in this film. The film is clearly and distinctly split into its three acts, three vignettes chronicling the stories being published in the magazine’s final issue. As a result of this, each time one act ends and the next begins, the audience is abruptly forced to say goodbye to the current set of characters and meet entirely new ones in an entirely new story. If all three vignettes aren’t unanimously compelling and interesting, the film as a whole inevitably suffers. Even if only one vignette fails to capture an audience the way the other two do, it takes away from the entire experience. In the case of The French Dispatch, none of the three acts are outright bad, but only one of them is outright great.

The first story, The Concrete Masterpiece, follows imprisoned artist Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio Del Toro) as he falls in love with prison guard Simone (Léa Seydoux) whilst struggling to find inspiration for his next project. Meanwhile, art dealer Julien Cadazio (Adrien Brody) has made Rosenthaler an artistic sensation in the outside world and impatiently pressures him to deliver a new masterpiece to sell.

This first act is by far the strongest of the film. Rosenthaler and Simone’s star-crossed love subplot adds a depth to the characters that simply engages the audience from start to finish. Anderson opens the film on such a strong note that it almost becomes disheartening to leave these characters behind at the beginning of the second act. The next two acts are forced to reach an impressively high standard by comparison — an automatic disadvantage.

Unfortunately, the next two vignettes simply fail to reach the depth of the first one. In the second story, Revisions to a Manifesto, Lucinda Krementz (Frances McDormand) covers a student protest led by Zeffirelli (Timothée Chalamet), wherein, despite their age difference and Zeffirelli’s attraction to fellow student Juliette (Lyna Khoudri), Krementz develops a romance with him and secretly edits his manifesto for him.

Despite wonderful performances from both Chalamet and McDormand, and a budding love subplot not all dissimilar from that in the first act, the second act feels hollow. Again, it’s not outright bad, none of The French Dispatch is. But there’s a missing piece to the vignette that is simply never quite found. Perhaps it’s due to the inherent comparison with The Concrete Masterpiece, but Revisions to a Manifesto, while entertaining, can’t retain the same magic the film had grown its audience accustomed to up until that point. When the second act is over and we depart from its characters, the sense of disheartenment we felt leaving the first act simply isn’t there.

The third vignette, titled The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner, follows a gay reporter named Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright) as he attends a dinner with the police commissaire (Mathieu Amalric) prepared by a renowned officer/chef Lt. Nescaffier (Stephen Park). While at the dinner, the commissaire’s son is kidnapped by criminals, leading to a wild breakout plan to get him back that Wright is dragged into, including an extended sequence told in animation.

The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner is arguably the most creative of the three vignettes, visually bouncing from color to black and white to animation whilst also bouncing from action sequences to slower dialogue scenes. Like the second act, it’s not a poorly-told story by any means, but it still lacks the depth and nuance of the first. Certain scenes feel as if they run a tad too long whereas others would benefit from a little more time — leaving its characters hollow once again.

Wes Anderson is no stranger to risk-taking. His style in and of itself is a risk. He has an unmistakable voice, something Hollywood needs more of today. That said, taking a narrative risk such as splitting your story into three vignettes, each completely disconnected from the other, is a dangerous game. Unfortunately for The French Dispatch, the risk simply fails to pay off in the grand scheme of the film.

Criticisms aside, The French Dispatch is unequivocally and unapologetically Wes Anderson through and through. For that alone, it’s an enjoyable flick, and one could certainly see it becoming even more enjoyable upon a rewatch. Superfans of Anderson’s are likely to love it. Critics of his previous films probably won’t have any fun at all. Moviegoers on the fence with him, such as myself, will leave the theater the same way I did: entertained, but unfulfilled.

Rating: ★★★