Three short films collected within a love letter to the glory days of the New Yorker magazine. When Quentin Tarantino pays homage to his favorite movie icons, he doesn't much care to make those tributes entertaining on both levels: if you don't know about kung fu or Blaxploitation movies, those references can fall flat. Wes Anderson has much the same problem here: if you are unfamiliar with the writers and editors and the heyday of long-form midcentury magazine writing,
The French Dispatch may still hold some value to you, but Anderson is content to make himself happy first. As usual, his all-star cast makes the movie sparkle, but I didn't care what happened to any of the characters.
