Geek of Oz

THE FRENCH DISPATCH brings to life a collection of stories from the final issue of an American magazine published in a fictional 20th-century French city. COMING SOON to Australian cinemas in 2020

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who recognise the genius of Wes Anderson and everyone else. I tumbled down the Anderson rabbit-hole after seeing Rushmore (1998), my first taste of that special blend of the peculiar which Anderson is renowned for. Not without a few niggling problems, his latest offering The Grand Budapest Hotel is an ambitious project, reinforcing that he is a master of ‘dolls house’ style film making, but more on that later. For pure escapism it’s hard to resist a bundle of quirky characters, exquisitely wrapped in absurdity and tied together by a string of ridiculous circumstances … in other words it’s a Wes Anderson film. Perched high in the alps of Zubrowka sits the shining jewel of European hotels, The Grand Budapest Hotel. Under the watchful-eye and velvet-glove-encased iron fist of the world’s greatest concierge Monsieur Gustave H (Ralph Fiennes), the hotel proudly hosts the upper crust of European society. Many come for the views but...

Hyde Park on Hudson , the latest effort from Roger Michell ( Notting Hill ), is a frustrating film with insurmountable issues. Few films in recent memory have annoyed me as much as this one did, especially since it had an abundance of potential. You’d think that the combination of a quirky take on an historical occasion, a competent director and a talented cast would ensure a satisfactory result, but sadly it doesn’t. Ultimately the result is a slapdash film which never really worked out what it wanted to be. I envisaged a light hearted comedy with farcical elements or perhaps, given the cast, a true battle of wordsmiths. Unfortunately I got neither. My only real concern is which knife I use to hack this film to death.