With The French Dispatch, Wes Anderson presents his most Wes Anderson film yet. As the director’s tenth film debuts in cinemas, his visual style, and narrative predilections are by now well-cemented and immediately recognizable across popular culture and especially among devotees of his work. Aside from speculations on Wes Anderson's James Bond, there have been critical studies, recreations both loving and comedic in spirit, and even an illustrated book titled Accidentally Wes Anderson (featuring a foreword by the man himself) detailing the impact that Anderson’s aesthetic has had on photography worldwide.

There have also been and continue to be discussions specifically dedicated to settling which of Wes Anderson’s films is, well, the most Wes Anderson of them all. However, any arguments that have garnered approval in the past might well be put to rest now, in light of the latest addition to the Andersonian pantheon.

As an anthology (the first of its kind for Wes Anderson), reviews for The French Dispatch may be mixed, but the film has quirks, spice, and everything nice—and any other ingredient that might certify a Wes Anderson film as a Wes Anderson film. And it has all of that in spades.

The French Dispatch's Visual Style Is Wes Anderson's Most Recognizable


The answer to why The French Dispatch is the most Wes Anderson film begins with a consideration of its visual qualities. Utilizing his signature color palette of pastels in association with black-and-white, Anderson gets to have his cake and eat it, too. He achieves this by employing a well-established mélange of lightened hues while also playing around in a monochrome space. Black and white photography may be sparse in his previous directorial ventures, but Anderson’s feature debut Bottle Rocket—which even The Mitchells vs. The Machines references—is based on a short film of the same name he’d shot entirely colorless. Already, The French Dispatch has an edge over his other feature-length entries by fusing color with a former penchant for the black-and-white.Aspect ratio is another facet that Wes Anderson likes to experiment with. In The Grand Budapest Hotel, for example, Anderson uses three distinct ratios as framing devices, pairing different time periods with appropriate screen dimensions. This time, he takes it one step further by incorporating the familiar blend of aspect ratios—at this point a bona fide Wes Anderson staple—and adding black-and-white to the mix. Not only is Anderson’s beloved 1.37:1 Academy ratio present here, but it is present in both color and monochrome depending on what the temporal setting of the narrative deems appropriate. The screen also shifts to a much wider 2.39:1 (known as anamorphic widescreen) at times during the film. The French Dispatch thus changes aspect ratio and color—a step up from Anderson's earlier visual experimentation.Anderson’s characteristic visual flair includes a number of other flourishes which are generously on display in The French Dispatch. Symmetrical composition is arguably at the forefront, and there are more geometrically appealing shots here than in any preceding Wes Anderson film. Of course, whip pans and tilts aren’t far behind, and Anderson’s favorite camera movements are deployed with gusto in The French Dispatch. Then there are moments when, almost on a whim, Anderson exchanges live-action in favor of animation—another darling of his. Collage editing, title cards, and whatever else might constitute a Wes Anderson film is almost certain to be found in The French Dispatch. But visual flair is not all that Anderson is known for.

The French Dispatch's Story Is Fully Wes Anderson


Wes Anderson has never done an anthology film prior to The French Dispatch—though he certainly dabbled in stories-within-stories and framing narratives. The Royal Tenenbaums, arguably his best film to date, opens on a shot of the book bearing the same name, followed by a prologue. Both act as framing devices for the rest of the narrative. Most prominently, the plot of The Grand Budapest Hotel is told in the form of written accounts and recollections which facilitate transitions in time and space, moving from one story to another as the aspect ratio follows along accordingly. Such is the case in The French Dispatch as well, where vignettes from the eponymous newspaper come to life and produce stories within the overarching narrative, which details the publication of the Dispatch’s final issue.

Setting and subject matter have also never been as recognizably Wes Anderson as they are in The French Dispatch. The time is the mid-twentieth century and the location is the quaint French town by the name of Ennui-sur-Blasé—a fictional abstraction of what the most Wes Anderson place imaginable ought to be. The streets are populated by Europeans at their most European and well-dressed criminals; the buildings are fashionably antiquated and tastefully designed, bearing the mark of Gallic artists of old. It’s no secret that The French Dispatch takes inspiration from real life: it's a love letter to journalism and Anderson’s healthy obsession with The New Yorker. It should come as no surprise that the film might consequently ring truer to Anderson’s heart than any of its precursors.When it comes to the vignettes themselves, what could be more Wes Anderson than fine art, fine dining, and a good old-fashioned French révolution? In the first of the newspaper’s “features,” Anderson pokes loving fun at modern art and tortured artists, with nude models, overbearing art dealers, and accidental frescoes in accompaniment. This is followed by a vignette starring box office darling Timothée Chalamet that is reminiscent of Rushmore: a student revolt, a forbidden teacher/student affair, and journalistic ethics are the main components here. The last of the features focuses on the healing (and poisoning) power of haute cuisine and includes a police shootout and a car chase that are cut from the same cloth as The Grand Budapest Hotel’s mirroring hijinks. The French Dispatch isn’t just a motley collection of tales; it’s an invocation of Anderson’s past filmography and a personification of his ardent passions.

The French Dispatch Collects The Majority Of Wes Anderson's Actors


Last on the list of ingredients that make The French Dispatch the most Wes Anderson film is the number of familiar faces among the dramatis personae. Anderson collects his actors like it’s a hobby, and several of his most regular regulars make an appearance here. Bill Murray is chief among them; the actor appears in ten Wes Anderson movies—all but Bottle Rocket, to be precise—and, appropriately, takes on the role of chief editor for the Dispatch. Owen Wilson doesn’t trail too far behind, with The French Dispatch marking his eighth feature-length appearance in the Andersonverse. Adrien Brody, Anjelica Huston, Jason Schwartzmann, Tilda Swinton, Edward Norton—they’re all here, too. It’d be more of a challenge to name a Wes Anderson collaborator that isn’t in The French Dispatch than it would be to name those that are.

With Anderson’s troupe present and accounted for, all that remains is to bid The French Dispatch adieu as it ascends to the top of Wes Anderson’s oeuvre—ranked not from best to worst Wes Anderson movie, but rather by how many Wes Anderson hallmarks each film contains. There’s really nothing more Wes Anderson than his own latest work, and while it might be in vogue to parody and imitate Andersonian auteurism, it stands to reason that no one should do it better than the progenitor himself. The French Dispatch is living proof of this—it’s something akin to Wes Anderson’s signature collection, and that’s good news for anyone who likes the distinguished filmmaker for his most distinguishing qualities.