I don’t quite know in what context I should be writing about Wes Anderson’s most recent creative endeavour, only what feels like weeks since Asteroid City; that of a series of short films adapting four of Roald Dahl’s more curious and darker short stories for Netflix. Consisting of the centre piece, that of the 40 minute The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, followed by a trio of 17 minute shorts consisting of The Swan, The Ratcatcher and Poison. Ranging from the typical whimsy we have seen before from Anderson, with two of them being punctuated with a darkness that has been missing from his oeuvre for some time for my money. I say I don’t quite know how to write on them because as much as this is in many ways what it has been described as, simply a series of short films, I want to talk on them without reducing a medium like short subject film, but also wish to give them more credit than I have found that they are getting. Then there is the final point that if this was released as a feature anthology film, much in the style of The French Dispatch, I sincerely feel it would be in my top twenty of the year thus far, and may even top Asteroid City, which I liked an awful lot as it is.
Let’s talk in general about the qualities, overall nature, actors and specifics that all four of these shorts share, because what further makes them feel like a feature film in collation is how many running themes, styles and actors Anderson employs throughout them. Firstly they are all to varying degrees delivered in the framing of Dahl himself relaying the tale, performed here by Ralph Fiennes in one of his multiple excellent turns in this collection. There is a softness of tone to Fiennes as Dahl that lulls us into a quality that as is this the case with Dahl’s writing allows for a darkness and a series of peculiarities to slip in under the guise of whimsy. Anderson employs throughout all four of these the same Brechtian deconstructive style that was at the core of Asteroid, here taking things even further with whole props being mimed, suggestive lighting states, multi-rolling and repeatedly an orator figure either speaking in the third person or assuming the dialogue or narration of others. Why and how Anderson has chosen to develop this style in his already famously ‘Russian doll’ style of narrative storytelling is very compelling and if it wasn’t pulled off with the absolute level of expertise that it is here then it’s the exact sort of thing that would and does frustrate me deeply. Again these stories often slowly but surely reveal themselves to be devilishly or melancholically dark, after the detour from cynicism that Henry Sugar takes. The cast of actors too here is frequently shared, with Fiennes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Rupert Friend, Ben Kingsley, Dev Patel and Richard Ayoade all having a variety of roles throughout the series – with no actor being no more truly stellar than the other, delivering that oh so very specific world of Anderson dialogue and specificness.
Bar the
beautiful work of Roman Coppola on The Swan, the films all share the
cinematography of Robert Yeoman who is the facilitatory visual force for
Anderson and his bold and intimate constructions, with in each case the editing
of Barney Pilling and Andrew Weisblum offering a rhythm that is adopted by all.
To talk on each more specifically one can note the way in which Henry Sugar consists
more or less of two short films and culminates in the most heartfelt of
Andersons endings here, even if it be the most matter of fact. The Swan is
so pained a piece of childhood elegy that one finds great sadness despite the
removed quality for which it is told, by the time Anderson leans away from some
of the remove, we are wholly emotionally stunned by the length Anderson went. The
Ratcatcher is a further dark and sinister tale that employs the master
performance of Fiennes once more this time in the most opposite to the warmth
of his Dahl that one can imagine. With the concluding piece being that of Poison,
which works at once as a thrilling tension piece and concludes with an
abrupt and horridly truthful note of human horror. All in all this is a
stunningly accomplished collection of works, but of course I hardly expected
anything less. Each story too ends with a little postscript note on a small
fact about the tale Dahl originally wrote and in each case these facts are
wholly illuminating and further Andersons clear love for this master
storyteller, and is now himself a master storyteller the perfect vessel for adaptation.
A series of 9/10 short subject works with no one better than the other or worse, instead they all work on the same terrific level and offer up a consistency of vision and quality that I personally felt Anderson’s last anthological effort lacked. I’ve read a few critics now who have commented on the same thing, Anderson is at this stage of his career somehow both wholly critically underrated and critically beloved. The absolute level of repeated craft on display here and the manner in which it only for my money gets more and more technically astounding is something that will I feel lead to the most wholly needed critical reappraisal of the era. I can only equate this with the work of David Fincher, a further craftsman who although wholly beloved, still it seems is undervalued as the astounding craftsman that he is.
P.S. I don’t know what I will do regarding my final nominations and winners for The Thomas Carruthers Awards of 2023, when it comes to referring to this a ‘film’, however for now I will be placing this collection at some ranking in my best of the year under the title I have given it for this review. I just simply cannot have this work go as unheralded as I personally feel it is currently going.
P.P.S Current ranking would follow firstly The Swan, then The Ratcatcher, then Henry Sugar, then Poison. But they are all equally 9/10 I feel, with no particular one being above or below that near perfect ranking.
- -Thomas Carruthers
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