Inside the World of The French Dispatch

Le Sans Blague was a picture of bright yellow comfort against the bleak grayness of a cloudy New York Sunday. As I approached the corner cafe, the first thing I noticed - besides the lemon colored themed awning and walls with its contrastingly red patio chairs and tables - was the massive crowd. There was a growing curiosity in the air to experience this pop-up that I had heard so much about, and it only grew as I walked what seemed like ages towards the back of the line that sprawled down the block and around the corner. I wagered on for the next two hours, the only break from stagnancy was the occasional shuffling forward and questions from strangers on the street stopping to ask what exactly we were waiting for. What was so special about this small peculiarity that had a hoard of strangers waiting for hours in the misty cold? Of course, it wasn’t till after that I knew. It was a chance to be teleported into the wondrous corner of France, if only for the weekend and gone that night by the time the sun set.

The opening of the pop-up cafe, Le San Blague, was an exclusive weekend-only experience at Whalebone on Bleecker Street for the celebration of Wes Anderson’s newest film The French Dispatch, released on October 22, 2021. When I at last arrived in front of the yellow-painted doors I was ushered inside and immediately wrapped in the warmth of the colors and decor that were so uniquely Anderson’s. The line weaved throughout the cafe past a lit-up retro Modern Physics pinball machine and a wall of  photographs of France to The French Roast station where a selection of coffees were waiting. And finally, the end of the line stopped in front of a backdrop where visitors were able to do a mini photoshoot with The French Dispatch magazine and other props. Despite it being a fictitious store, the ambiance had a genuine homeyness with guests huddled in the coziness of the reading nook or playing a game of chess at one of the tables in the backroom of the establishment. Before saying their goodbyes, guests could say hello to family and friends on postcards that were all (supposedly) mailed out, and also choose memorabilia in the form of a yellow Le Sans Blague mug, The French Dispatch magazine, or a The French Dispatch x Warby Parker tote. All of these were free of charge and only added to the sweetness of the experience.

At the moment I decided to go with the mug and saucer set, yet the thought of The French Dispatch magazine, which I knew if I looked hard enough I would find, sat in my mind. The magazine was, like all the other limited edition items, difficult to find for its scarce quantity. I was fortunate enough to hunt down a copy at Casa Magazine, a tiny cranny-in-the-wall magazine store. Almost invisible if one did not know it was there, Casa Magazine is famous for collaborations and promotions with major companies and was temporarily transformed to promote The French Dispatch magazine in their windows. Granted, these copies were gone as soon as they came, so when the owner himself handed me one of his last copies, it felt like gold. The magazine, while promoting the film and its cast, also speaks of Anderson’s inspirations and contains a collection of stills from the film. 

For the next week, I could only wonder what the film could be about from the little snippets Le Sans Blague and the magazine were able to provide. When I was finally able to watch The French Dispatch for myself I was entirely captivated by every bittersweet story of tragedy and conquest. The film is done in true Wes Anderson style, a barrage of bright colors, symmetry, and eloquently packed dialogue, yet has a touch of something that is wholly unique to this film alone.

The French Dispatch of the Liberty, Kansas Evening Sun is the name of a fictional American magazine in a fictional 20th-century Ennui-sur-blase, France and stars some familiar and new names in Anderson’s films like Bill Murray, Owen Wilson, and Timothée Chalamet. The film itself, while about a magazine, is also quite literally structured in the form of a magazine. Stories within stories, The French Dispatch begins with the sudden death of its editor, Arthur Howitzer Jr. In commemoration of his memory, The French Dispatch publishes a final issue consisting of three articles and an obituary written by the newspaper’s best writers. Before diving into the three stories, the film sets up a brief history of Ennui in, The Cycling Reporter, narrated by a bicyclist played by Owen Wilson, and details the changes of the small town over the years. As for the three stories, each recounts the almost unbelievable experiences of three different writers in a short film format. Story #1, The Concrete Masterpiece, follows a convicted felon and his natural talent for modern art, inspired by his prison guard, which is exploited by a fellow prisoner for money. Story #2, Revisions to a Manifesto, questions the meaning of “journalistic neutrality” as The French Dispatch writer, while writing an expose, becomes involved in an affair with a university student, who is also the leader of “The Chessboard Revolution”, a protest for boys to enter the girls’ dormitory. Finally, Story #3, The Private Dining Room of the Police Commissioner, is a daring and high-speed chase that occurs after the son of the Ennui Police Commissaire is kidnapped and saved after the police-chef poisons the captors and himself. While the film was like an unpredictable experiment, it managed to tie these three stories together not simply through exploring “journalism” but through what journalism truly means to the journalists. Although distinctly unique from one another, the articles compliment each other because of the epiphanies the writers have while retelling their stories, a new perspective that as journalists they did not have at the moment in lieu of “journalistic neutrality”, however, gains because of their experiences and devotion to their stories.

Similar to throwing paint at a canvas only to discover the final work to be a uniformed piece of art, the film entertained several contrasting components. One of particular note is Anderson’s use of color, or lack thereof. Anderson is very much known for his aesthetically pleasing color palette, like the pink-hues of The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) and the rustic orange and purples of Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009). So it was quite a surprise when most of the film was in black and white with abrupt cuts to color, specifically to the three stories of the film. While uncharacteristic of his previous work, Anderson’s refrain from color only made the scenes with color more strikingly special. Suddenly an ordinary pair of eyes in black and white became the brightest blue. A woman’s hair that appeared to be gray from old age in black and white was suddenly revealed to be a pastel purple when the scene transformed into color. Such contrasts in color along with playful banter between the English and French language, and even a sudden switch into a cartoon sequence made for an engaging and enrapturing storytelling. 

As for Le Sans Blague itself, the cafe did indeed make its appearance several times throughout the film, particularly in Revisions to a Manifesto. The name Le Sans Blague roughly translates to “No Kidding”, a joke in itself as the film was filled with dry humor and unexpected twists. A hub for rebellious university students, the brightly lit cafe stood out starkly against its gray surroundings, reminiscent of the model in New York. And while only a small part of the overall story, seeing the cafe on screen brought a familiarity despite it being placed in fictional Ennui, France and not New York City.

While the film is entirely fictional from its city to its newspaper company, The French Dispatch carries an air of familiarity that feels as if everything told could really be true. Inspired by the very real New Yorker and its writers, Anderson manages to create a compelling world of journalism out of a completely fictional magazine. Even The New Yorker’s late founder and editor-in-chief, Harold Ross, is reflected in the impassioned, no-nonsense editor of The French Dispatch, Arthur. And although three separate storylines may seem like too many characters to remember with some questionably absurd plotlines, each one manages to stand on its own through Anderson’s ability to connect the characters to audiences through our humanness: our ability to relate to love, passion, and sacrifice, no matter what form it may take. And of course, there is Le Sans Blague. While a clever marketing strategy, this little yellow cafe wasn’t a simple generic movie poster. Those who were lucky enough to visit Le Sans Blague became a part of the story, a snippet of Anderson’s world of print journalism and French cinema. A truly accurate depiction of the world of The French Dispatch from the inside out, Le San Blague reminds us that there is always a place to connect with each other and ourselves even in times of turmoil. And, maybe one day, someone will write our story to tell to the world.