Highest 2 Lowest

 

Director Spike Lee

Lee with Denzel Washington

Lee's signed Kurosawa portrait

HIGHEST 2 LOWEST          B                                                                                               USA  (133 mi)  2025  ‘Scope  d: Spike Lee

All money ain’t good money.                                                                                                        —David King (Denzel Washington)

Surprisingly, there has already been a remake made of Akira Kurosawa’s overly somber neo-noir classic High and Low (Tengoku to jigoku) (1963) with Ron Morales doing a Philippino update in Graceland (2012), though Spike Lee has insisted “It’s a reinterpretation – not a remake,” like a jazz riff on a standard tune, with a title card in the closing credits that says the film was “inspired by the master, Akira Kurosawa.”  In something of an aside, Lee owns a beautiful portrait of Akira Kurosawa, which the great Japanese director signed with a paintbrush of white ink (photography has begun on Spike Lee's remake of Akira ...).  While there are stark differences between the two films, Lee uses the basic premise of the original story, an adaptation of American pulp writer Ed McBain’s crime novel King Ransom published in 1959, and then shifts the location from Japan’s Yokohama Harbor back to the Big Apple, with Lee basically having a love affair with his native city, as he makes exquisite use of locations, mirroring the documentary street realism of Kurosawa’s equally enthralling earlier film STRAY DOG (1949).  Superbly realized by cinematographer Matthew Libatique, having worked together before on four earlier films, you can feel the personal touches, changing film stocks and color grades, the use of split screens, handheld cameras, Super 8 and 16mm recordings, intentionally giving this an artistic look.  His fifth collaboration with Denzel Washington, beginning with MO’ BETTER BLUES (1990), MALCOLM X (1992), He Got Game (1998), and his first since the terrific heist movie Inside Man (2006) 19 years ago, which is still Lee’s highest grossing movie.  Washington shines in every frame of this film, fully invested in the role, bringing his bodacious energy, wickedly sly sense of humor, and captivating screen presence, very Shakespearean, to the narrative, where he’s called upon to do things in this film that turn him into a modern day action figure, yet it’s his humanity that really stands out, as every move is coldly calculated and reasoned, producing one of his best performances in years, expressing a range of emotions that aren’t on the page, exhibiting that kind of freedom and improvisation in the role, reminding us why he is held in such high esteem.  It’s not often that black people are seen in movies in this way, artistic yet accessible, giving us a cause for celebration.  The film is about the haves and have-nots, and the widening gap, while at the same time exploring greed, having a moral compass, class issues, and what it means to be a father, as Spike Lee, known for his vibrant visuals and socially conscious storytelling, brings his signature style to the film, with exquisite framing, and a screenplay written by newcomer Alan Fox that doesn’t always connect the characters together or match the rich detail of the original story (kings-ransom.pdf).  Now working in his fifth decade, Lee has an extensive filmography that includes Do the Right Thing (1989), MO’ BETTER BLUES (1990), JUNGLE FEVER (1991), MALCOLM X (1992), CROOKLYN (1994), Girl 6 (1996), 4 LITTLE GIRLS (1997), Summer of Sam (1999), 25th Hour (2002), When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts (2005), Inside Man (2006), Da Sweet Blood of Jesus (2014), Chi-Raq (2015), Blackkklansman (2018), 2020 Top Ten List #10 Da 5 Bloods, David Byrne's American Utopia (2020), yet it’s been decades since he was at the top of his game.  While this may not be that, this feels like the old-school opulence of mid-2000’s movies with some high spots that really stand out, where you feel like you’re literally immersed in New York City, with crowd scenes and back alleys that feel authentic, where we’re reminded that Do the Right Thing (1989) and 25th Hour (2002) are Lee’s best earlier films reflecting the soulful character and swaggering personality of the city, but this is a welcome addition.  This is also about how legends of black culture (including Lee and Washington) struggle to maintain their legacy in the face of such a rapidly changing, social media-obsessed world, as they’re so quickly forgotten, or intentionally erased, where the film reflects the current landscape of the erasure of record labels and the dissipating relevancy of art in general, with a rapid decline in the relevance of labels and mainstream media outlets, concluding with a killer ending that comes out of nowhere.  Movies like this simply aren’t being made anymore, but Spike Lee, a tenured professor and the Artistic Director at the New York University Tisch School of the Arts Graduate Film Program, a role he has held for over 30 years, still likes to kick things around and explore, often muddying the waters, getting caught up in trying to do too much, which can alter the flow of the picture, but this deeply personal film gives us a reason to return to theaters, as this is an immersive, all-encompassing experience that is simply a joy to watch, yet it’s going to be hard to find in theaters, playing in only a few venues, as it’s quickly heading for streaming platforms, distributed by A24 and Apple TV, where it will play in less than a month, though they’ve finally given the filmmaker a budget he deserves, and it shows.     

Premiering out of competition at the Cannes Film Festival, the opening is a controversial move that may divide audiences, as the sweeping montage of city skyscrapers in the upscale Brooklyn neighborhood along the East River between the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges is accompanied by an incongruous use of the Rodgers and Hammerstein song from the musical Oklahoma, 'Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin'' | Gordon MacRae | Rodgers ... YouTube (3:00), one of the most iconic American songs to emerge from the wartime era, a song we associate with endless farmland stretching as far as the eye can see, which simply feels out of place today, even when sung by Emmy, Grammy, Tony, and SAG Award-nominated actor and singer Norm Lewis, playing out in full with no interruptions, where the song is used to much greater effect in Kelly O’Sullivan and Alex Thompson’s Ghostlight (2024).  Yet it mirrors other Spike Lee opening shots, like basketball players around the country practicing to the music of Aaron Copland in HE GOT GAME, He Got Game - Movie Intro YouTube (3:01), offering a sense of Americana, like the dawn of a new day, bold with a sense of cinematic tradition, with the camera zooming in on a penthouse suite of the Olympia Dumbo building, the tallest residential listing in Brooklyn, with the outdoor balcony offering sweeping vistas overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge, while the interior features floor to ceiling windows with unobstructed views of the East River, New York Harbor, and Manhattan skyline.  To live in such undisputed luxury (the super deluxe apartment is currently on the market for a cool $19.5 million dollars, See inside $19.5M Dumbo penthouse, Brooklyn's ... - 6sqft) tells us right away that this isn’t any ordinary person we’re dealing with, so the immediately recognizable lyrics of such a kitschy song actually establishes the mood, but viewers are a little thrown by it.  This spectacular shot introduces us to music mogul David King (Denzel Washington), known as King David, a man insulated by wealth and privilege, whose company Stackin’ Hits Records dominated the charts two decades ago, but he cashed out and sold the company to a soulless conglomerate years ago, and now the board is moving in a different direction, more interested in AI music, which is increasingly used to generate content, but has “no soul, no heart,” a move that would likely “squeeze every drop of black culture and integrity” out of its music catalogue, where his future with the company is less clear, despite having a mostly figurehead position as Chairman of the Board.  He’s been leveraging his penthouse and other assets to try to buy out his company before it’s taken from him, hoping he can start a new business searching out new talent, as he’s still known for having “the best ears in the business.”  In Kurosawa’s black and white film, Washington’s character is played by Toshiro Mifune, a wealthy shoe executive whose luxurious penthouse apartment sits atop a large hill offering spectacular views overlooking Yokohama Harbor, where the emphasis was on the capitalistic postwar class divide, reflected by those rich enough to afford living high above and those working stiffs living down below, showing a distinct difference between the haves and the have-nots.  In Lee’s film, it plays out much differently, where pessimism is not as central as in Kurosawa, as we’re introduced to David’s family, including his overly predictable wife Pam (Ilfenesh Hadera, who was in two earlier Spike Lee films, but has worked primarily in television, showing little emotional range), a philanthropist supporting black causes, and inquisitive teenage son Trey (Aubrey Joseph), who is a talented basketball player.  Their home is filled with sports-related memorabilia and artworks by Jean-Michel Basquiat, Frederick J. Brown, Kehinde Wiley, Deborah Roberts, Gordon Parks, Henry Taylor, and others (from Spike Lee’s own personal collection), as well as magazine covers of David’s face, and while we see he is revered at his place of business, treated like a megastar, winner of 50 Grammys, he may also be out of touch with the changing times, as his son’s listening habits are drastically different than his own, where this generational divide figures prominently, as people’s access to music is so much more readily available through social media outlets, something the father pays little attention to, while Trey is on his phone with headphones literally all the time.  The film, however, misses an opportunity, as it really glosses over the carnivorous nature of the music industry in general without offering any real insight or exploration, as it’s far more about gaining social media attention and less about the actual musical talent, where the Internet has strangely and rather humorously become a character unto itself.  

David’s luxurious Rolls Royce chauffeur Paul (Jeffrey Wright, in an expanded role from the Kurosawa film and is absolutely terrific in this film, working especially well with Denzel Washington) is like a member of the family, an ex-con who is a Muslim convert.  While they both come from hard times, Paul actually served time upstate, but he’s devoted to David, having a son Kyle (Elijah Wright, Jeffrey Wright’s real-life son) about the same age as Trey, best friends who are dropped off at a summer basketball clinic at Long Island University where practice is led by none other than former Laker Rick Fox, who gets into it about the Laker purple and gold with King’s affection for the orange and blue colors of the Knicks, the first of many sports references in the film, the best of which comes from the kids, “Michael who?”  In the 90’s, it was the Michael Jordan Gatorade commercials where everyone wanted to “Be like Mike” ORIGINAL "BE LIKE MIKE" GATORADE COMMERCIAL | NIKE ... YouTube (1:00).  While all is going well, the first misstep may be musical composer Howard Drossin’s syrupy and melodramatic score, which simply doesn’t match the hard edge of the rest of the picture, having a hard time fitting into the overall atmosphere, but at the same time, the more jazzy, piano-infused accompaniment by Scottish pianist and composer Fergus McCreadie works pretty well, Highest 2 Lowest 2025 Soundtrack | All Money Ain't Good ... YouTube (4:19).  You wouldn’t think that maudlin score would matter that much but it does, especially since the other musical choices are spot on, so there’s a lightweight aspect to what we hear, yet the weight of the complex imagery deserves better, but this is Spike Lee, where these sonic miscues can he found in most of his films, continually keeping viewers off balance.  Like a tidal wave, everything changes in an instant, matching the Kurosawa story exactly, as Trey is reported kidnapped, where the tone of the film shifts into tragic mode, with his parents completely devastated, suddenly finding their immaculate home infiltrated by and at the mercy of the police, supposedly experts in the matter, including all the latest electronic surveillance gadgetry, featuring Broadway actors John Douglas Thompson as a detective and Michael Potts as David’s confidante and business partner, both known for their work in August Wilson plays, and Color Purple actress LaChanze appearing as a detective, as the kidnapper has already announced he wants $17.5 million dollars, all in Swiss Francs (making it easier to carry around in a black Jordan brand backpack), so they all gather around waiting for the next call.  The one distraction may be Dean Winters, the Mayhem guy in the Allstate commercials, as a constantly angry and overtly racist detective, as he’s kind of played out this onscreen personality.  The detectives are overly polite with David, yet their treatment of Paul is downright hostile and accusatory, reflective of their obvious class differences.  As David and Pam see their life savings and their extravagant lifestyle suddenly in jeopardy, they are brought back down to earth, as this would ensure that he probably loses his label for good, yet there is little doubt about their willingness to pay the money to get their son back.  But just as suddenly, things change, as the kidnapper made a mistake, erroneously taking Kyle, shifting all the attention to the hot-headed Paul, who doesn’t trust the police based on his history, and he doesn’t have that kind of money.  The kidnappers want the money anyway, irrespective of what kid they have, which creates a moral conundrum.  Suddenly, David, who was so willing to dish out the cash for his own son, feels relieved of that dilemma now, like the weight of the world is off his shoulders.  But Trey encourages his father to pay, as he’d never be able to live with himself if that reluctance led to Kyle’s death, not to mention how this would play out in those obnoxiously exaggerated New York City headlines, where his future as a businessman would be over, as he’d be a living pariah, ostracized from the music business.  In ruminating over this dilemma, David retreats to his study where he talks to the portraits of deceased music legends Stevie Wonder, Aretha, James Brown, or Jimi Hendrix, and ask what would they do?  But when he shows a willingness to pay, suddenly he’s viewed as a hero, like a black saint, with the public worshipping his every move. 

Once David leaves the ivory tower, the film really takes off, as the pace accelerates when they hit the streets, moving at breakneck speed, with the money placed in a GPS traceable bag, which sets the wheels in motion, leading to the exhilarated rush of William Friedkin’s THE FRENCH CONNECTION (1971), still considered the gold standard for chase sequences, but Lee really outdoes himself here, creating tense and spectacularly suspenseful scenes shot on a subway train filled with rabid Yankee fans chanting “Red Sox suck!,” much like Kurosawa filmed the money handoff aboard a speeding train, with the money dropped into the hands of young men on mopeds who repeatedly pass off the ransom money to someone else.  At the same time the police are chasing in cars on the street, but things get really dicey when they run into a Puerto Rican Day street celebration in the South Bronx, which is where the film really picks up momentum, including a Rosie Perez introduction of the incomparable Eddie Palmieri, born in the Bronx, who passed away in August at the age of 88 (Latin Jazz Pianist-Composer Eddie Palmieri, 1936–2025), where his singular presence lights up the screen in a riveting live performance with full orchestra that plays out in full, Eddie Palmieri - Puerto Rico YouTube (6:59), so this film appearance offers a tribute to his life and legacy.  The street confusion causes things to go haywire, losing track of the money, as the kidnappers somehow changed bags, creating a chaotic madness, where the mounting tension is beautifully edited with exquisite precision, rising to an almost unbearable intensity, shot by shot, accentuated by the electric dynamism of the city, literally bathing viewers in the vibrant life of New York City, which you’ve never seen like this, especially Lee’s breathtaking use of drones and the angles he uses for bridges, turning into a rousing thriller, with viewers literally brought to the edge of their seats.  Like a Black Messiah, David singlehandedly figures out who the kidnapper is by listening to some music tracks, where he recognizes the rapper’s voice from the ransom demands, who is none other than Yung Felon (A$AP Rocky), yet when he excitedly brings this information to the police, they routinely dismiss it, believing they have better leads to follow.  But David and Paul know they’ve identified the right guy, so they venture out on their own, which is the biggest difference from the Kurosawa film, where the police meticulously go after the kidnapper, who remains an elusive figure that we really never get to know, as opposed to here where he is prominently featured, heading into a gorgeously choreographed labyrinth sequence into the bowels of the “hood,” just ramping up the suspense, brilliantly set to the funky music of James Brown, no less, The Payback YouTube (7:38).  It’s just a thrilling sequence, first finding the kidnapper’s girlfriend Marisol (the debut of Bronx-born Ice Spice), who refers them to the recording studio, where the song is what the roughed-up but safely-released Kyle remembers hearing in captivity, over and over again, like a stream of conscious dream, where it plays out onscreen like a music video, Trunks (From "Highest 2 Lowest") YouTube (3:43).  When they finally meet face to face, it’s like a battle rap showdown, each excelling while attempting to one-up the other, with David really holding his own against this young gun, with rhymes that carry a Shakespearean seriousness, while Rocky counters with youthful rage, believing “Attention is the only currency.”  The ferocious voice of a new generation of black musicians is eager to dethrone his predecessors by any means necessary, including shaking down the old guard if that’s what it takes to finally get what’s due.  But we discover it’s about more than music, as what this young rapper really wants is a father figure, a mentor, as he spent years idolizing David, unleashing his pent-up anger when that relationship never materializes.  It’s all mano a mano, one on one, but the real question is art versus commerce, as you can’t put a price on great art (Kurosawa), which has the ability to move people, have an enduring impact on the culture, and stand the test of time, as opposed to the business of making money (the Hollywood model), where “All money ain’t good money.”  It’s superlative filmmaking, gaining gravitas as the film progresses, leading to some of the most satisfying time spent in a theater all year, where it’s just a gas to experience it, knowing nothing ahead of time except the Kurosawa model, but this changes direction and moves into unfamiliar territory near the end, exactly as the Kurosawa film does, and while it may not have the same cinematic mystique as the original, it’s just dripping with entertainment, becoming the best reason to see it in a theater and not some streaming platform.  The finale is another killer sequence, this time featuring a rising star named Sula, beautifully voiced by Aiyana-Lee, Highest 2 Lowest 2025 Soundtrack | Highest 2 Lowest ... YouTube (3:35), granddaughter of the legendary Motown and Temptations lead singer Jimmy Ruffin, where her exquisite performance taps into raw emotion in just a stellar sendoff.

The French Dispatch

 

Director Wes Anderson

Anderson shooting Frances McDormand

Anderson shooting Benicio del Toro

Anderson on the set

THE FRENCH DISPATCH                    B                                                                                 USA  Germany  (107 mi)  2021  d: Wes Anderson

In Paris, anytime I walk down a street I don’t know well, it’s like going to the movies.  It’s just entertaining.  There’s also a sort of isolation living abroad, which can be good, or it can be bad.  It can be lonely, certainly.  But you’re also always on a kind of adventure, which can be inspiring.

—Wes Anderson, New Yorker interview, September 5, 2021, How Wes Anderson Turned The New Yorker Into “The French ...

Following in the same hyperbolic mindset as The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014), yet accentuated even further, where this may be viewed as a magnum opus for Anderson, an expat living in Paris, throwing out any pretense of a narrative while heightening the densely layered, exaggerated effect by squeezing so much into each perfectly framed composition, drawing attention to the extraordinary intricacy of each shot, matching that same subversive tone he has always utilized, going for moment-to-moment exhilaration, like a 1930’s screwball comedy, arguably utilizing more words here than is humanly possible, literally racing to get them all said, with many more dancing on the screen to be read, much more than can be comprehended in a single viewing, again using a cavalcade of stars (most onscreen for barely a minute) to provide that deadpan look he is going for.  Paying homage to The New Yorker magazine and the eccentric intelligentsia style of stories they have tended to print, perhaps targeting bookworms, this overtly literary film provides a you-were-there attitude, taking viewers inside the story by individualizing the experience through the perspective of each writer, journalists working abroad for an American audience, combining four separate stories, bringing each to life, while also adding the perspective of the editor, Bill Murray as Arthur Howitzer, editor of The French Dispatch, inspired by Harold Ross, the founding editor of The New Yorker, published in the picturesque yet fictional French town of Ennui-sur-Blasé, which translates to Jaded Boredom or Indifference, a stand-in for the artist’s cynical perspective of the real world, avoiding it at all costs, instead inventing a parallel universe of exacting precision, a flippant parody on the modern world that exhibits an air of scoffing smugness, literally thumbing his nose at the rest of us mere mortals with a kind of snobbish superiority while bathing his artificially constructed characters with tenderness and loving affection.  While the film literally races through each story with an adrenal rush, Anjelica Huston adds her own elaborate commentary through a wry narration, with each of the writers adding their own personalized narrative commentary, yet the problem with this wildly formalized style is there is simply no character development, as the performers aren’t really acting, but feel more like controlled mannequins reading a script without a hint of emotion.  Instead, the dominant attention is focused on the ostentatiously stylized development of each frame, accenting a static, meticulously composed tableaux, often incorporating carefully choreographed background action, merging exterior locations with painted backdrops that can slide off the screen, mixing models and miniatures with live-action photography, changing aspect ratios, skewing sightlines, while mixing black and white with color, and pushing the film to an absurd surrealism, where the precision of each shot requires a dolly, beautifully represented by a distinguished tracking shot through a police station, French Dispatch long shot - Vimeo (1:33).  You’d have to go back to 2012 Top Ten Films of the Year: #3 Moonrise Kingdom to find a Wes Anderson film that actually advances the narrative through an elevated attention to character, where the audience investment into the tender emotional world of the child protagonists actually pays off in the end.  That simply doesn’t happen here, where the characters are purely at the disposal of the exaggerated look of the film, polarizing audiences more sharply than usual, as style matters more than substance.  For many viewers, that’s enough, as Anderson’s artistry is in mastering the staggering detail of each image (and has even produced a website, Accidentally Wes Anderson), but that wasn’t always the case, as his earlier films like Rushmore (1998) relied more upon a clever and hilariously written script.  Yet all artists change and evolve over time, with Anderson clearly more comfortable with creating meticulously designed sets, like a dollhouse in miniature, with characters playing a secondary role and having a significantly reduced influence, yet this film received a 9-minute standing ovation when it premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, winning no awards but was thoroughly appreciated, like entering an enchanted land, sort of like reading a children’s book, where the adventure mostly plays out in the imagination of the reader, listed at #6 on the end of the year Top Ten list from Cahiers du Cinéma, Cahiers du Cinéma: Top Ten Films of 2021 - Year-End Lists.  Beautifully shot by Robert D. Yeoman, who has shot nearly all his films, missing only the animated features FANTASTIC MR. FOX (2009) and 2018 Top Ten List #7 Isle of Dogs, with astonishing production design by Adam Stockhausen, while another surprising development is the Erik Satie-like musical score written by Alexandre Desplat, at times becoming a ticking clock driving a distinct visual rhythm of the film, featuring exquisite piano solos by Jean-Yves Thibaudet.  Interestingly, this is the second film in a row, after Bruno Dumont’s France (2021), dedicated to the recently deceased musical composer Christophe, who died from Covid.   

Essentially a series of short stories and vignettes, offering a behind-the-scenes glimpse of how these articles came to fruition, becoming something a journalistic exposé on the art of writing, getting into the minds of the writers themselves, while exalting in the freedom and joy of taking poetic license, yet also accentuating the editing process, where Howitzer encourages his writers to produce diverse stories of human interest, allowing them to be totally themselves in their articles, as his one mantra is “try to make it sound like you wrote it that way on purpose,” mirroring the challenging storytelling abilities of a film director, yet the wacky quirkiness of Wes Anderson exists in its own imaginary realm, separate and apart, suggesting a world of elitism and privilege that thrives in a luminous glow of well-executed construction.  Mostly set in the 60’s, much of the film is actually shot in the city of Angoulême, accentuating cats gathering along the rooftops, balconies overlooking narrow streets, with residents peering out their open windows at the myriad of meticulously choreographed street activity, all captured in vibrant colors that offer such a tantalizing view, incorporating a carefully calibrated rhythm established in the very first shot.  Told in flashback, the film opens with the death of Kansas-born publisher Arthur Howitzer, founder of The French Dispatch, the weekly arts and culture supplement of a large Midwestern newspaper based in the American heartland, The Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun, which he inherited from his father, initially convincing his father to fund his college education and transatlantic adventures that would produce a series of travelogue articles published locally in the Sunday supplement, raising a few eyebrows, eventually opening an offshoot bureau of the newspaper in France, traveling to Europe as a young man and simply never returned.  Howitzer assembled a team of the best expatriate journalists of the time, along with a few eccentrics, one apparently a voracious reader who never writes a single word, with their articles blossoming into the entitled publication, which was known for their rigorous fact checking and copy editing, along with an exacting inspection of grammar usage, yet his passing dictates the end of the publication, following one final farewell issue in which four articles are published along with an obituary.  Identifying the articles, authors, and pages of the magazine as we go along, simulating the experience of reading the magazine, the stories are told in chapter headings, often shifting from color to black and white and then back again, jumping headlong into the quaint charm of the small provincial French town of Ennui, as Herbsaint Sazerac (Owen Wilson, narrating his own segment, inspired by New Yorker writer Joseph Mitchell), otherwise known as the cycling reporter, writes about his favorite subjects, rats, hobos, pimps, and junkies, taking us around the city on his bicycle, offering a seamy working man’s perspective on a subterranean layer of the city most never see, like marauding children attacking unsuspecting victims, an alley of pickpockets, a corner of the red-light district, or dead bodies collected from the river, comparing images of the past with the present, showing how little has changed, with a pervasive air of pickpockets, dead bodies, prisons, cemeteries, and other dreary subject matter.  The grim brevity of the piece simply whets our appetites, like an appetizer or an amuse-bouche, as what follows may be the most delectable item on the menu, featuring a lecture and accompanying slideshow by arts reporter J.K.L. Berensen (Tilda Swinton, inspired by art critic and historian Rosamond Bernier), taking us back to examine how such a majestically avant-garde art creation was formed, a large-scale painting of epic proportion, a series of frames that resemble Rorschach inkblots, subject to one’s imagination, each sharing a common theme, but that only becomes evident with some backstory taking us into the deranged mind of a mental patient who committed a brutal double-murder, Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio Del Toro), convicted of decapitating two men in a barroom brawl and imprisoned for life, yet we observe him at work painting a nude subject, Simone (Léa Seydoux), a rare standard of beauty that may symbolize an idealized vision of France, demonstrating enormous elasticity in posing for long durations, which sets her apart, able to hold difficult positions even in extreme cold, yet when he comes too close, she flicks his paintbrushes away and orders him back to his easel.  Shortly afterwards, she changes into her prison guard uniform and places him in a straightjacket, leading him back to his cell, where he struggles with a tortured artist’s existence of manic depression and suicidal intentions, miraculously saved by needed therapy from the prison arts and crafts program where he happens to meet Simone, exhibiting a kind of gallows humor, Léa Seydoux In (The French Dispatch) "I grew up on a farm." YouTube (1:00).  The bright colors of Berensen in the present are a remarkable contrast to the black and white images inside the prison, as Berensen describes the weird symbiotic relations that can occur between a ruthless convict and a secret admirer, exuding an extraordinary bond that defies belief, yet she serves as his behind-bars mentor and model throughout his artistic career. 

In something of a demented turn of events, Rosenthaler’s art is discovered while in prison by unscrupulous art patron and tax dodger Julien Cadazio (Adrien Brody), inspired by S. N. Behrman’s 1951 six-part profile on Lord Duveen entitled The Days of Duveen, The Days of Duveen | The New Yorker, immediately contacting his uncles (Henry Winkler and Bob Balaban) after his release, heavily promoting his work in their art gallery where his paintings skyrocket in value, but they encounter difficulties in attempting to obtain more artworks to sell, with Rosenthal stubbornly refusing, yet they believe he’s working in secret on a massive project.  Eventually setting a deadline, they round up all the significant patrons of the art world and head to France, while paying enormous sums of money in bribes in order to allow them all inside the prison grounds to inspect his latest masterwork, yet when they arrive, the artist defers, claiming he needs another year, but Simone quickly acknowledges it’s ready.  What’s unveiled, however, is not what they expect, challenging their prevailing views of art, revealing a magically abstract set of ten fresco works imprinted into the concrete walls of the prison.  Cadazio calls it a masterwork before realizing he can’t haul it out of there, impulsively assaulting Rosenthal, going for his throat, leading to mayhem and a massive prison riot where lives are lost, expressed in a single freeze frame, yet for his exemplary behavior in saving lives, Rosenthal is released on probation, while Simone also departs the prison after receiving a large sum of money, and neither ever see one another again, while the frescos are airlifted out of the prison into a private museum in the middle of a Kansas cornfield where Berensen is conducting her lecture.  Yet the heart of the 60’s is embodied by an ode to the student rebellions of May 1968 in France, reported on by Lucinda Kremetz (Frances McDormand), inspired by New Yorker writer Mavis Gallant, specifically her two-part article, The Events in May: A Paris Notebook~I | The New Yorker and The Events in May: A Paris Notebook—II | The New Yorker.  Expressed with mocking sarcasm, which does a great disservice to what actually happened (Kristin Ross; May '68 and its Afterlives), the revolutionary spirit in the air is initially inspired by narcissistic concerns over access to a girl’s dormitory, The French Dispatch - Timothée Chalamet opening sequence YouTube (57 seconds), yet when police intervene, an overreaction of epic proportion, the students are radicalized, becoming a youth movement who split on their ever-expanding demands, with the opposite sides best expressed by two young student revolutionaries, Zeffirelli (Timothée Chalamet) and Juliette (Lyna Khoudri), a reference to Italian stage and film director Franco Zeffirelli and his breakout international film version of ROMEO AND JULIET (1968), with aging radical Kremetz trying to remain detached, but takes a romanticized interest in the youthful Zeffirelli, actually having an affair while helping him write a manifesto, including an appendix.  With Juliette evidently growing jealous of their closeness, Kremetz urges them to “Stop bickering.  Go make love,” turning into a star-crossed romance that unfortunately ends in tragedy, with the story resurrected years later in the form of a theatrical stage play.  The final story is written by erudite food journalist Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright), an amalgamation of James Baldwin wandering through Paris reflecting on his outsider status, james baldwin - collected essays (pdf), and A. J. Liebling commenting on food, profiling the Police Commissioner (Mathieu Amalric) and his famed chef Nescaffier (Stephen Park).  Soon a gastronomy lesson on police cooking morphs into a kidnapping, with Wright seen interviewed years later by a Talk Show Host (Liv Schreiber, inspired by Dick Cavett), The French Dispatch - Never Ask a Man Why YouTube (2:00) as he recollects, with typographic memory, the Commissioner’s missing son and the harrowing events to recapture him alive, with shoot-outs and showdowns, expressed in near cartoonish fashion, including hand-drawn animation, yet the connecting threads are the meals prepared by Nescaffier, a specialist in French haute cuisine, described in intimate detail.  In this instance a food review turns into a wacky adventure story, filled with unexpected thrills and heightened suspense, including a coda back inside the offices of the Dispatch, where Howitzer hears Wright’s reasons for deleting a private conversation with Nescaffier, conflicted by his own feelings as an outsider, but prefers to include it, contending it’s the essential aspect of the story, interjecting a strangely compelling ruminative quality.  While there’s plenty of wit and obvious affection on display, exhibiting an undisputed poetic artistry expanding the realms of cinema that can be uniquely attributed to this director, nonetheless much of this feels coldly manufactured and self-reverential, a product of his own self-confining aesthetic, lacking an emotional center while missing dramatic impact, leaving viewers impressed by the magnitude of a visual collage in time with a strict choreography of action, but hardly moved by it all.  It’s essentially a nostalgia piece about memory that tries to replicate what these writers embodied, but fails to reach the depths of their passion and unbridled imaginations, creating instead an irreverent kind of mocking tribute that some might find mesmerizing, visually sumptuous, with occasional moments of brilliance, yet can also feel insufferable, an overwhelming experience that may leave viewers exhausted and emotionally drained, having little or nothing to do with the real world.  In an epilogue, the Dispatch staff congregate to mourn Howitzer’s death, putting together a final issue to honor his memory, with a series of New Yorker magazine covers designed by Javi Aznarez seen in the closing credits that capture the look and playful humor of the magazine, with the film paying tribute to a host of New Yorker writers that include Harold Ross, William Shawn, Rosamond Bernier, Mavis Gallant, James Baldwin, A. J. Liebling, S. N. Behrman, Lillian Ross, Janet Flanner, Lucy Sante, James Thurber, Joseph Mitchell, Wolcott Gibbs, St. Clair McKelway, Ved Mehta, Brendan Gill, E. B. White, and Katharine White.   

The Absurd Intricacy of The French Dispatch video essay pointing out the level of formal detail borders on absurdism, by Thomas Flight on YouTube (13:35)