One of my favorite lines in poetry is Keats' "A thing of beauty is a joy forever...some shape of beauty moves away the pall from our dark spirits."
And I think this movie is Wes Anderson's way of recapitulating that sentiment on film.
Each story shows the transcendence of art, beauty, and love in different ways. In "The Concrete Masterpiece," the prisoner Moses staves off thoughts of suicide by delving into pottery, and eventually art. Simone is the beautiful muse that inspires him in spite of himself, and through her artistic spirit he lives on--both in his final work of art and in simply staying alive.
In "Revisions to a Manifesto," revolutionary wannabe Zeffirelli finds solace from the confused turmoil of a ambiguous revolution through the brief interlude of love that he finds with his fellow (and rival) compadre Julliette. It's the only time things slow down, and the scene is allowed to breathe, showing the calm that love brings in sharp contrast to the chaos of war.
In "The Commissioner's Dining Room," chef Nescaffier saves a boy's life through serving poisonous radishes to the kidnappers, and in doing so he must test it and poison himself. He ultimately survives, but he reveals that the poisoned radishes had a new flavor, something exceedingly rare in his long experience as a chef. Even in the face of death, the sensual art of food was something that enlightened him, something that proved transcendent over possible death.
Now this doesn't mean the film doesn't have its flaws. It does. The narration can be frustrating, especially when one wants to simply soak in the gorgeous cinematography that Wes Anderson employs. The vignettes are mostly stand alone, and have no culminating element that ties the whole thing together. Except the beauty in art. The theme of art and love (and love for art) transcending all else, a fitting theme for a love letter to France.
So overall, I really liked it. Its emotions are not in the actors, the lines, but in the underlying theme of art and beauty sustaining us through dark times, something portrayed beautifully by all the gorgeous scenes strung together like a jeweled necklace.
Each story shows the transcendence of art, beauty, and love in different ways. In "The Concrete Masterpiece," the prisoner Moses staves off thoughts of suicide by delving into pottery, and eventually art. Simone is the beautiful muse that inspires him in spite of himself, and through her artistic spirit he lives on--both in his final work of art and in simply staying alive.
In "Revisions to a Manifesto," revolutionary wannabe Zeffirelli finds solace from the confused turmoil of a ambiguous revolution through the brief interlude of love that he finds with his fellow (and rival) compadre Julliette. It's the only time things slow down, and the scene is allowed to breathe, showing the calm that love brings in sharp contrast to the chaos of war.
In "The Commissioner's Dining Room," chef Nescaffier saves a boy's life through serving poisonous radishes to the kidnappers, and in doing so he must test it and poison himself. He ultimately survives, but he reveals that the poisoned radishes had a new flavor, something exceedingly rare in his long experience as a chef. Even in the face of death, the sensual art of food was something that enlightened him, something that proved transcendent over possible death.
Now this doesn't mean the film doesn't have its flaws. It does. The narration can be frustrating, especially when one wants to simply soak in the gorgeous cinematography that Wes Anderson employs. The vignettes are mostly stand alone, and have no culminating element that ties the whole thing together. Except the beauty in art. The theme of art and love (and love for art) transcending all else, a fitting theme for a love letter to France.
So overall, I really liked it. Its emotions are not in the actors, the lines, but in the underlying theme of art and beauty sustaining us through dark times, something portrayed beautifully by all the gorgeous scenes strung together like a jeweled necklace.