Wes Anderson belongs to a pack of filmmakers that emerged in the 1990s with signature, wholly unique stylistic impulses that rose from micro-budget indie features to major award season contenders. Writer/directors like Quentin Tarantino, David Fincher, Paul Thomas Anderson, Guillermo del Toro, Danny Boyle, Kevin Smith, Christopher Nolan, John Singleton, and Robert Rodriguez all went from earning a cult status to being a household name after a few breakout hits, and each of them have inspired countless imitators that attempt to replicate some of the same qualities.

While there’s a lot of crime thrillers that can be described as “Tarantino-esque,” a lot of psychological thrillers that take Fincher’s approach, many imitators of Smith’s dialogue, and many high concept genre films described as descendents of Nolan, there isn’t anyone who’s quite been able to capture that elusive quality that defines a “Wes Anderson” movie. Anderson may be occasionally scoffed at as a favorite of coffee shop hipsters and Letterboxd film buffs, but his kaleidoscopic approach to cinema is something no one else will ever be able to master.

Wes Anderson Was a Game Changer From the Very Beginning

Luke and Owen Wilson in Bottle Rocket
Image via Sony Pictures Releasing

Anderson launched his career by casting his childhood friends in the short film Bottle Rocket, which he later adapted into his directorial feature film debut. The film is an offbeat heist thriller that follows the selfish wannabe criminal Dignan (Owen Wilson) as he convinces his mentally-distressed friend Anthony (Luke Wilson) to pull off the robbery of a storage facility unit. Similar to films like Reservoir Dogs or Clerks, Bottle Rocket was an immediate announcement of a signature cinematic voice that established the hallmarks of Anderson’s career. Bottle Rocket wasn’t trying to cash in on the “90s neo-noir crime thriller” craze that had led to the success of The Usual Suspects, The Boondock Saints, and Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels; in fact, it felt like Anderson was being subversive from the very inception of his career.

It had a sharp, biting sense of humor that relied on idiosyncrasies, yet made room for darker moments. The story proceeds like a fable, and every complication is only dialed up for comedic effect. There’s an affinity for nostalgia, but Bottle Rocket is clearly a postmodern take on a thriller with its eclectic soundtrack choice. Of course, there’s the visual style that has made Anderson an icon among art snobs; his symmetrical framing, flat camera movements, striking color patterns, hand-crafted architecture, and occasional snap zooms were so instantly impactful that they inspired countless imitators. It’s easy to take these obviously notable techniques and think that they constitute Anderson’s entire style, but Bottle Rocket has a deep sense of tragedy that would only become more prominent in Anderson’s later work.

Bottle Rocket is ultimately a story about faded idealism; Dignan realizes he’s no master thief, and Anthony never truly “heals” from his psychological torment. Having to be content with your reality is a lesson that nearly all of Anderson’s protagonists go through; Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman) doesn’t find love in Rushmore, Royal (Gene Hackman) has to live with dysfunction in The Royal Tenenbaums, Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) pays the price for his indulgences in The Grand Budapest Hotel, and even Mr. Fox (George Clooney) has to become a “family man” by the end of Fantastic Mr. Fox. This recognition of fate gives these stories a sense of realism; they’ve only been filtered through Anderson’s unique point-of-view.

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Wes Anderson Has Flawed Protagonists

Jeff Goldblum, Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe, Cate Blanchett, Bud Cort, Anjelica Huston, Michael Gambon, Noah Taylor, Matthew Gray Gubler, Seu Jorge, and Waris Ahluwalia in 'The Life Aquatic'
Image via Buena Vista Pictures Distribution

While Anderson’s protagonists tend to be immature, arrogant, or in some other period of transition, his films don’t celebrate this sort of adolescent behavior. Anderson has fun seeing characters like Max Fischer in Rushmore revel in his own obsession with competition, but the film is laughing at him, not with him. Steve Zissou (Bill Murray) is a complete jerk in The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou whose haughtiness costs him any personal friendships, and similarly Royal’s self-indulgence is seen in the effect that it has on his children in The Royal Tenenbaums. There’s a fine line between depiction and endorsement that Anderson has learned how to walk.

It’s also notable that in Anderson’s films, warm-hearted idealism is celebrated for how rare it is. In Isle of Dogs, a fascist dictatorship is brought down through the power of a young boy’s love of his dog; in Moonrise Kingdom, the childhood passion of Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) exposes the fundamental issues in all the institutions that surround them. However, many of Anderson’s heroes ultimately pay the price for their efforts to insert compassion into the world; Gustave’s execution at the hand of hostile military officers at the end of The Grand Budapest Hotel sadly reflects how the horrors of warfare eroded his generation of flamboyant, mannered elegance.

Wes Anderson's Movies Keep Getting Better

Unlike some of his contemporaries, Anderson has shown an increased maturity as he grows older. Not all of his attempts to have a more open mind have been effective; while his intentions of celebrating Indian culture in The Darjeeling Limited seem sincere, the film ends up conforming to the “white savior” cliches. However, Anderson showed with The Grand Budapest Hotel and Isle of Dogs that he could address themes like xenophobia, fascism, and radicalization in poignant, thoughtful ways where his quirkiness didn’t feel superficial. His latest film The French Dispatch is perhaps his most thematically ambitious to date; who manages to address toxic masculinity on college campuses, protest culture, problematic relationships between artists and muses, and abuse within the prison system in a movie that celebrates the importance of the free press.

The ability to evolve and try new things is the sign of a great artist, and Anderson continues to keep applying his unique point-of-view to personal projects. He’s one of the rare “auteur” filmmakers who can still inspire audience interest based on his name alone, and he’s never catered to the whims of today’s pop culture obsessions by working on a major franchise film. There may not be another director that can get ensemble casts as stacked as Anderson’s for every project they work on. While it’s sad that there will never be another Anderson, it only makes his upcoming projects like Asteroid City more exciting.