Wes Anderson is one of the best directors working today. Roald Dahl was a century-defining storyteller. What happens when you combine them together? “Fantastic Mr. Fox” is already one such example but for “The Wonderful Life of Henry Sugar” being such a minor work in his oeuvre, it’s FAR from a second-rate one.
Andersons jewel-box style of directing continues to be meticulous, playful and whimsical, all of which play wonderfully to his advantage in the short runtime he’s given. He doesn’t sacrifice any of his trademark tricks to make room for a smaller scale and he keeps it as modest as possible.
Simplistic cinematography and editing is sublime with fascinating tracking shots and rear screen projection accompanying the 1.33:1 aspect ratio, there’s no shying away from the witty quips and wry humor, it’s presentation within itself is a fascinating departure from the conventional cinematic experience, adding another layer of whimsical charm to proceedings and the toy theatre aesthetic matches the droll visual delight of Anderson’s patented pastel-esque color palette with the in-your-face theatricality, child-like atmosphere and manic construction of the production design. It pushes Wes to more restless and visually inventive means as a test to his creativity, one he passes with flying colors thanks to the distinct clockwork rhythm and the breakneck pace to go alongside it.
It’s marvelously energetic.
And as expected, the range of versatile and charismatic performances from the cast hold down the eloquent turn of events and keep Wes’s barrage of deadpan comedic monologues flying at full speed.
Just like his previous film, this narrative follows what’s essentially a Russian-doll story-within-a-story structure that plays out eerily similar to how Wes emulated that similar structure in Asteroid City; considering how naturally fit this style is to Wes’s entire catalog, it’s not hard to speculate if Roald Dahl’s style of storytelling was an inspiration to him. Dahl’s writing is so hermetic and airtight, whereas Anderson’s execution of that writing is threaded together with the formal elegance and concision of a magic trick gone well while dancing to its own tune; yet, as the case with the rest of Wes Andersons resume, a story’s telling is as vital as the story itself. The execution of this engaging and exotic story already adds layers of allure to the proceedings but the clever innocence of Andersons literary strength carries over that remarkable quirkiness to keeps this modern-day fairy tale grounded in its own environment but also build to a charming denouement.
It makes for not only a near-perfect distillation of Roald Dahl's perfectly eccentric and wildly over-elaborate storytelling but a generous tribute OF and TO the author as well.
If Asteroid City was preoccupied with finding solace in the unknown, this one hinges on using artifice to see through all perceived illusions or delusions of grandeur. If we can make peace with existential desolation among other stuff we don’t understand in our loneliness, then the same surely can be said about the use of deception with our senses when used for a noble cause. Obsession, greed and possibility happen to be the name of the game here and it’s so lovingly detailed from the offset.
While this is much shorter than the vast majority of Wes’s other films, something about that matter-of-fact-tone he takes with him leads to a somewhat disarming experience, meaning even Wes’s traditional breakneck pacing takes a bit of a blow here.
Not a full course meal but a light and airy desert that still leaves you full.
