Wes Anderson’s Strange Movie-Magazine

The French Dispatch has an amusing surface but no heart.

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Bill Murray, Wally Wolodarsky, and Jeffrey Wright in The French Dispatch.

Searchlight Pictures

Wes Anderson loves The New Yorker, and he loves France (where he lives), so he set out to make a movie about both. Now showing at the New York Film Festival ahead of an October 22 theatrical release, The French Dispatch is cute but kind of dull. I’d call it a French disappointment.

This high-concept, low-key exercise in sustained drollery is an anthology of three unrelated stories about small-town French life, framed as features in the eponymous magazine, which is published as a supplement to a Kansas newspaper. There is also a shorter amuse-bouche that is meant as a cinematic adaptation of a column about bicycling, and overarching all of this is the story of life at the magazine itself, at the helm of which is a gruff but writer-friendly editor played by Bill Murray. The magazine is published in an adorable, archetypal little French town called Ennui-sur-Blasé, whose name is the kind of almost-joke in which Anderson specializes.

Kyle Smith

About the Author

Kyle Smith

Kyle Smith is the film critic for the Wall Street Journal.

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