Wes Anderson’s cinematic realm has consistently held a cherished spot in the depths of my cinephilic heart. His distinctive style, marked by meticulous attention to detail and an unmistakable aesthetic, has the power to whisk me away to the vibrant days of my childhood. It’s akin to the joy I experienced when armed with crayons and a blank page, pouring my imagination onto paper in a cascade of colors. Each of Anderson’s creations feels like an enchanting sojourn into a storybook, where every frame is a genuine work of art.
In a parallel vein, my affection for Roald Dahl’s ageless narratives has been a steadfast companion throughout the years. Dahl’s magical worlds have a universal quality that seems to have left an indelible mark on the collective imagination of countless individuals.
Hence, the news of Wes Anderson embarking on the journey to craft four short films adapted by Dahl’s literary treasures has stirred an almost profound excitement within me. It’s as though two artistic luminaries, each having carved their unique niches in my creative psyche, are converging to form a beautifully meaningful fusion. The prospect of Anderson’s visionary prowess melding with Dahl’s whimsical narratives feels like a cinematic event of immense significance, and I, for one, cannot wait to be transported into this imaginative universe.
The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar
Wes Anderson’s adaptation of Roald Dahl’s The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, a tale infused with transformation and the enchanting magic of benevolence, I found myself immersed in the intricate tapestry of the narrative. It marked the first installment in a series of four short films, and as I ventured into this captivating world, I couldn’t help but notice how the realization of having it all, yet doing so little with it, served as the core of our protagonist Henry Sugar’s metamorphosis. Anderson’s cinematic brushstroke embellished the story with a palette of rich hues, offering a narrative that was animated, swift, and filled with humor, all the while concealing the profound wisdom interwoven in Dahl’s original tale. As the film gracefully unfolded, the central message emerged, leaving me in awe and clutching a lesson that transcended age: the world is not merely a realm of personal pursuits but a place of shared kindness and altruism.
At the narrative’s core is the captivating evolution of Henry Sugar, portrayed with depth by Benedict Cumberbatch. Born into privilege but ensnared by monotony, Henry’s life takes a profound turn when he stumbles upon a book about Imdad Khan, brought to life by Ben Kingsley, a man with the extraordinary ability to “see” without using his eyes. Initially driven by self-interest, Henry’s quest to acquire this unique skill transforms into a beautiful story of self-discovery and kindness. It reminds us that, regardless of social status, we all possess the power to brighten others’ lives.
Anderson’s visual storytelling in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is a masterclass in curiosity and intrigue. The ever-shifting backdrop, reminiscent of a dynamic theatrical performance, continuously surprised and delighted. The narrative was conveyed through the captivating gaze of the story’s characters, each one drawing me into their tales. This ingenious technique seamlessly fused with the fluid transformation of settings, creating an enthralling synergy between the narrative’s flow and its ever-evolving backdrop.
In a mere 39-minute journey, this cinematic gem delved into human potential, the allure of change, and the boundless magic inherent in a benevolent heart. The film’s rapid evolution, filled with shifting perspectives and enchanting locales, maintained its mesmerizing hold without overstaying its welcome. The result was a truly unique cinematic experience, a lyrical ballet of narrative and setting, brought to life by a stellar ensemble cast. The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar invited me to partake in a tale that resonated with timeless wisdom and served as a profound reminder of the transformative power of kindness. This enchanting story, akin to a literary treasure, encouraged me to contemplate the extraordinary potential that resides within ordinary souls when they embrace the power of benevolence.
Rating: 8/10
The Swan
In The Swan, Wes Anderson’s cinematic vision embarks on a bold and unexpected departure from his whimsical repertoire. In this second installment of his quartet of short films inspired by the works of Roald Dahl, Anderson navigates the narrative with a remarkable equilibrium of earnestness and haunting suspense. The 15-minute film, led by the brilliant performance of Rupert Friend as Peter Watson, delivers an experience both gripping and emotive. Anderson’s stylistic signature is palpable throughout, as he continues to cultivate his penchant for diorama-inspired aesthetics. The minimalist sets, meticulously choreographed staging, and the visual semblance of a theatrical play underline the film’s distinctive texture. However, it is Anderson’s ability to extract profound emotions from these ostensibly austere settings that truly astounds.
The essence of Dahl’s original tale remains undiluted, a testament to Anderson’s commitment to fidelity in adaptation. Friend not only inhabits his role but also lends his voice as the narrator. This narrative technique adds a layer of complexity to the story, inviting contemplation on Peter’s inner world: does he harbor anger, has he found reconciliation, or does he grapple with an amalgamation of emotions in the wake of his harrowing childhood experience? The narrative unfolds as a reminiscence, with Peter engrossed in bird-watching through binoculars until the tranquility of his solitude is disrupted by the intrusion of two older boys, Ernie and Raymond. Armed with a newly acquired firearm, they coerce Peter into a perilous ordeal. The film leads us down a path of visceral tension, leaving us in suspense as Peter’s past traumas resurface with each retelling.
Rupert Friend’s performance is nothing short of stellar. As the sole protagonist, he navigates the narrative’s increasingly turbulent waters with a palpable crescendo of intensity. His delivery becomes more urgent, a portrayal of someone racing against the inexorable passage of time toward an inescapable climax. The film’s pinnacle emerges in a moment of grotesque brutality, a sequence of violence inflicted not upon Peter but upon another living creature. Friend’s portrayal of this traumatic recollection is profoundly moving and harrowing.
While brief appearances by Ralph Fiennes and a few silent cameos round out the cast, it is undoubtedly Rupert Friend who carries the weight of the film on his shoulders. The Swan is a testament to Anderson’s ability to traverse the realms of dark, psychological cinema while preserving the essence of Dahl’s narrative. It is a captivating and haunting exploration of a young boy’s encounter with malevolence and its indelible impact, encapsulated within the delicate confines of a short film. Anderson’s creative audacity in this project, coupled with Friend’s exceptional performance, ensures The Swan is a poignant addition to the cinematic landscape. My only hope after watching The Swan is that Anderson will consider making a full-length horror picture.
Rating: 9/10
The Rat Catcher
The Rat Catcher unveils a character of extraordinary grotesqueness, a wandering soul named Fiennes. His arrival disrupts the serene existence of a rural newspaper editor, played by the inimitable Richard Ayoade, and a garage mechanic personified by Rupert Friend. Both men grapple with an infestation of rodents that threatens their livelihoods. As time elapses, it becomes evident that Fiennes possesses his own unsettling eccentricities.
The narrative delves deeper into a realm reminiscent of the whimsy of Anderson and the dark charm of Dahl. Fiennes’ portrayal of the enigmatic rat man is utterly captivating, beckoning us to explore the enigmatic depths of his peculiar psyche. Against my better judgment, The Rat Catcher stands out among the quartet, earning its place as my personal favorite. This tale ostensibly portrays two working-class men, embodied by Ayoade and Friend, who seek a rat catcher’s services to rid their lives of troublesome rodents. Drawing inspiration from Dahl’s own small-town experiences, the film encapsulates the essence of their struggle, despite potential arguments about their representation of the working class.
In a manner reminiscent of Fiennes’ prior roles, embodying Dahl in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and The Swan, he takes on a fascinating dual role, becoming not just Dahl but also the enigmatic rat catcher. Fiennes emerges as a peculiar, disheveled figure, seemingly as likely to transform into a rat as to capture one. His expertise and fervent admiration for these creatures border on obsession or perhaps venture into the realm of unbridled madness. This complex character transformation would undoubtedly enhance the film’s narrative and thematic depth. At the heart of The Rat Catcher lies the gradual realization dawning upon Ayoade and Friend’s characters regarding the grave mistake of involving this enigmatic man in their predicament. The horror unfolds through Fiennes, whose transformation throughout the narrative paints him as a more rodent-like, monstrous being. This metamorphosis, aided by props and makeup, culminates in a truly nightmarish portrayal.
I found this particular scene featuring a rat to be my favorite. It deliberately portrays the rat with an adorable charm, which accentuates Fiennes’ own monstrous character, assuming the role of a classic villain, though in a straightforward and inhuman way. The film cleverly places the moral dilemma squarely on the shoulders of Ayoade and Friend, forcing them to confront the repercussions of sacrificing innocent creatures for their convenience. A discerning eye would surely dissect this moral predicament with precision, ultimately passing judgment on the film’s overall quality.
Rating: 10/10
Poison
In the fourth and final installment of Anderson’s Dahl adaptations, the narrative unfolds with gripping intensity, expertly guided by Anderson’s storytelling prowess. This concise tale masterfully portrays a harrowing situation involving a venomous snake, steadily growing more spine-tingling with each passing moment. It artfully blends dry humor with heightened emotional responses, all while taking unforeseen twists and turns, leading to a climactic revelation by Dahl.
Our central character, Woods, embarks on a journey in India to visit his English friend Harry, brought to life by the talented Benedict Cumberbatch. Harry lies in bed, drenched in sweat, seemingly afflicted by malaria. As tension mounts, Harry implores Woods to maintain absolute silence, divulging a horrifying secret: a deadly krait snake has nestled itself on his abdomen, rendering him immobile for hours. The situation calls for immediate action, prompting Woods to summon the local physician, Dr. Ganderbai, skillfully portrayed by Ben Kingsley, who devises a daring plan involving an injection and chloroform. The film is visually captivating, skillfully conveying the perilous nature of any sudden sound, movement, or light that could awaken the dormant serpent, a harbinger of potential doom. The characters find themselves on a precipice, desperately trying to maintain their composure in the face of impending catastrophe. Patel’s narration is nothing short of remarkable, moving at a breathless pace that mirrors the frenzied efforts of Woods and the doctor to rescue Harry.
In this final installment, the story is presented in widescreen format to contrast the earlier installments. The cinematography, marked by innovative angles and perspectives, heightens the palpable tension and pervasive sense of desperation. Yet Patel consistently seizes moments to connect with the audience through his direct address to the camera. What emerges from this riveting narrative is a compelling portrayal of individuals employing unconventional thinking to navigate a situation teetering on the edge of terror and exhilaration. When the story takes an unexpected turn, it delivers a striking surge of raw emotions, remaining as poignant and thought-provoking as Dahl originally intended.
Poison is an engrossing conclusion to a series that holds the audience spellbound with its suspenseful narrative and expertly crafted visuals. It keeps viewers on the edge of their seats, with each turn of events amplifying the gripping intensity. The film remains a testament to lateral thinking in the face of terrifying circumstances, and its power to resonate profoundly with contemporary audiences is a testament to Dahl’s timeless storytelling.
Rating: 10/10
These four Roald Dahl tales from Wes Anderson are currently available to stream on Netflix.
It all started when I was a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons like the Spider-Man: Animated Series and Batman. Since then I’ve been hooked to the world of pop culture. Huge movie lover from French New Wave, to the latest blockbusters, I love them all. Huge Star Wars and Marvel geek. When I’m free from typing away at my computer, you can usually catch me watching a good flick or reading the next best comic. Come geek out with me on Twitter @somedudecody.