Is Wes Anderson Just a Stylish Director with Nothing New to Say?

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Wes Anderson is back. And judging by “The Phoenician Scheme’s” trailer, it’s more of the same.

  • Pastel frames
  • Cutesy fonts
  • Bill Murray somewhere in the margins
  • High on affect, low on actual substance

It’s another loop of deadpan whimsy, a gorgeous display case, sealed shut.

And people will clap. Again.

Anderson’s reputation as a cinematic auteur has grown to be excessively lauded. A filmmaker who reached his creative zenith with “Rushmore” (1998) and “The Royal Tenenbaums” (2001), works that still pulsed with creativity, seems to have transformed into a one-man cinematic craft store, repetitively producing similar work.

Previously, it seemed as though the scenes conveyed deep emotions, but now it appears that what we’re seeing is merely intricate set design with a subtle sense of life. He didn’t compromise his principles; instead, he immersed himself completely and passionately into the construction of his personal artistic narrative.

More recently, his movies have been seen as repetitive homages to himself. Each shot feels like a well-organized pin on Pinterest, and each scene resembles an intricately designed still life.

1. Instead of being characters, they’ve become mere decorations with dialogue.

2. Rather than stories unraveling, they twist and form loops, similar to a curled ribbon.

And yet the myth persists: this is cinema.

Take 2018’s “Isle of Dogs.”

The stop-motion animation seems overly eager to come across as deep but neglects genuine human emotion. The supposed tribute to Japanese culture was reduced to dogs voiced by Bryan Cranston and Edward Norton speaking English, while actual Japanese individuals were merely audible backdrops for Anderson’s visual exploration of Japan, resembling more a travelogue than an immersive cultural experience.

In a casual and straightforward manner: The atmosphere lacked both urgency and intimacy; instead, it seemed like a shallow imitation of depth. However, critics couldn’t resist showering praise upon it, simply because it bore his famous signature.

Afterward emerged “The French Dispatch,” or to put it another way, a Wes Anderson-style compendium bound in a coffee table book, featuring actors enclosed within its pages.

As a cinephile, I found myself watching a medley of incompletely baked narratives that seemed to overstay their welcome. Instead of a captivating cinematic experience, it felt more like flipping through a scrapbook filled with literary allusions and French provincial trinkets, bound together by font choices and knowing winks.

Lacking emotional depth, yet boasting intellectual arrogance. However, it made no verbal statements, instead, it conveyed this through impeccable alignment of titles and an abundance of typewriter-like sounds that could easily fill up a bookstore in Brooklyn.

Additionally, “Asteroid City” from 2023 presents an intriguing visual style reminiscent of a miniature diorama set within the arid Nevada desert. The narrative structure is multi-layered, encompassing a story within a film within the vast cosmic emptiness.

Aliens showed up. So did grief (and Tom Hanks). But none of it landed. Because it wasn’t meant to.

I found it confusing, but I’m hesitant to admit it.

Anderson repeatedly creates the same film, labeling it as a contemplation of storytelling, banking on the fact that audiences may be too self-aware to acknowledge their growing boredom.

The issue isn’t just that such movies are made, but rather that they receive recognition. Once upon a time, Anderson crafted genuine, complex characters with authentic emotions, but now he delivers flat, one-dimensional figures on a rotating tray and is still hailed as a genius for it.

He has transformed into a filmmaker who seems to lack fresh ideas. A creator of tacky productions. His films seem more aimed at boosting his own ego rather than stimulating the viewers’ creativity.

These renowned actors, such as Tilda Swinton, Frances McDormand, Willem Dafoe, Jason Schwartzman, Scarlett Johansson, and Edward Norton, have each lent their talents to different films directed by Wes Anderson. Regrettably, in these productions, they often find themselves playing eccentric characters that seem to fit neatly into the symmetrical world created by Anderson, resembling pieces in a carefully designed dollhouse.

They don’t act; they pose. They are little more than meat-suit mannequins.

Instead, we, as viewers, are no longer active participants within the narrative. We find ourselves relegated to the role of passive observers, compelled to witness characters enact their roles mechanically, much like wind-up toys in a museum exhibit where visitors are prohibited from interaction.

It’s quite clear that this isn’t traditional storytelling we’re dealing with; rather, it seems more like a form of performance art, albeit one with a generous budget. This extravagant visual style is reminiscent of high-fructose sweetness, disguised as deep meaning or profundity.

Instead of pushing us, Anderson seems to be pampering himself. Each attempt appears flawless, every detail meticulously arranged. Yet, there’s no tension, no sense of danger or excitement. It’s all just… nothing. There’s no anticipation, no thrill, no impact.

It’s cinematic taxidermy.

Instead of encouraging innovation among young filmmakers by taking risks, he’s inadvertently discouraged it. By instilling the belief that mood trumps substance, that character growth can be replaced with shallow development, and that using color symbolism and casting famous faces is sufficient, he has unintentionally set a limiting standard for their work.

That cinema is curation, not creation.

It’s not.

Anderson didn’t share the same creative genius as Kubrick or Malick. He’s hardly on par with Tim Burton. But at least Burton brought out the bizarre; Anderson, unfortunately, has become too formulaic instead.

As a cinema enthusiast, I’d highly recommend you catch “The Phoenician Scheme” hitting select theaters on May 30th. Or if something quirky and intriguing catches your eye next, by all means, give it a watch! Savor the elaborate sets, chuckle at the witty dialogue, and don’t forget to snap a shot with a rose-tinted filter before sharing it online. Enjoy the show!

Instead of feigning emotion, let’s be honest about it. And please, no pretense that this is groundbreaking; it feels more like mechanical replication, devoid of soul and creativity.

Anderson isn’t making movies anymore. He’s running a theme park.

And the ride hasn’t changed in a decade.

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2025-05-21 20:11