The Grand Budapest Hotel and Moonrise Kingdom have made Wes Anderson
a prestige force. Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums have become
quotable cult classics. Yet every new Anderson release brings out droves
of critics eager to charge him with stylistic excess and self-indulgent
eclecticism.
Donna Kornhaber approaches Anderson's style as the necessary product of
the narrative and thematic concerns that define his body of work. Using
Anderson's focus on collecting, Kornhaber situates the director as the
curator of his filmic worlds, a prime mover who artfully and
conscientiously arranges diverse components into cohesive collections
and taxonomies. Anderson peoples each mise-en-scéne in his ongoing
""Wesworld"" with characters orphaned, lost, and out of place amidst a
riot of handmade clutter and relics. Within, they seek a wholeness and
collective identity they manifestly lack, with their pain expressed via
an ordered emotional palette that, despite being muted, cries out for
attention. As Kornhaber shows, Anderson's films offer nothing less than
a fascinating study in the sensation of belonging--told by characters
who possess it the least.