There are few combinations of an author and director more appropriate than Roald Dahl and Wes Anderson – both are incredibly popular artists with a distinct style and an enormous legacy, as well as a devoted group of supporters who swear by their work. Despite being from entirely different times and not having any artistic crossover during the brief moment when they were both living at the same time, there is a clear correlation, with Anderson being deeply inspired by Dahl’s work. It isn’t the first time that this subject has been discussed, since his adaptation of Fantastic Mr. Fox is considered the gold-standard for contemporary stop-motion animation, and is widely considered one of his most ambitious works. He has returned to the author’s dreamlike world in the form of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (as well as a trio of other short stories, which we will be discussing over the coming week as they are gradually released), in which Anderson takes one of the esteemed author’s most iconic short stories and translates it to the screen, crafting an absolutely lovely short film that proves that even when working with something much shorter, Anderson is an astonishing filmmaker, and after a few years of experimenting with his style has started to find a particular groove from which he draws his inspiration – and credit must be given to Dahl’s work, as his stories served to be a major influence on not only this experiment but his career as a whole. Everything that we love about Anderson’s work is condensed into this film, which is an absolute delight from beginning to end, and an absolute triumph in both form and content, which is always comforting when coming from a director who has stirred as much division as Anderson has over the last decade.

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is a film that forces Anderson to bolster his skills when it comes to both the visual scope and narrative, with the latter often being slightly diminished in much of his recent work. The concept of “style over substance” has been overused to the point of exhaustion, and while it is partially true of Anderson and his efforts, it overlooks the fact that these films do have a strong sense of heartfulness that could not be possible without a good story guiding the project. Dahl’s work has often been cited as being similarly twee in a lot of instances, despite their linguistic innovation and narrative complexity. As a result, the pair are delightfully compelling artistic bedfellows, and this return to the author’s work proves that the previous collaboration was not an accidental success, but rather the manifestation of two distinct styles coming together to create purely enchanting cinema. Arguably, there isn’t much space for Anderson to work, at least not at his usual pace – the story is quite short, and he is permitted less than 40 minutes to tell it, which is the perfect length, and while it would have been understandable to attempt to stretch this out to feature length, keeping it quite short was ultimately a good decision, since the focus is almost exclusively on the intricate details, rather than about filling in the gaps between major moments. This story in particular is considered one of Dahl’s peaks as a writer, particularly in how it represents a slightly more mature style of writing, and much like the majority of his short stories, it took aim at older audiences – and while it is still very much appropriate for all viewers, Anderson does intentionally maintain this darker tone, at least in terms of the narrative.

One of the most appealing qualities of Anderson’s work is that he usually tends to attract a high calibre of stars and that he often populates his films with sprawling casts – but it is also a concept that has been at the forefront of a lot of criticism since many feel like he allures great actors but doesn’t give them enough to do. This changed with The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and the three other films since Anderson essentially employed only five actors – Benedict Cumberbatch, Ralph Fiennes, Sir Ben Kingsley, Rupert Friend and Richard Ayoade, and they recur throughout the stories, each one of them playing multiple roles. This adds a level of theatricality to the production since it reminds us of plays in which a small ensemble cycles through a range of characters. Within these five names, only Fiennes and Friend have previously worked with Anderson, with the other three being newcomers to his world, despite seemingly being perfect fits for his style – and based on what we know, each one of these actors will be taking on a leading role in one of the subsequent films. In this one, it is Cumberbatch that is front-and-centre, with quite a notable supporting presence by Kingsley, who proves that he can play a more subdued character while still being memorable. Cumberbatch is as good as ever, commits wholeheartedly to the role, and truly makes us wonder why he was not courted to appear in one of the director’s films years ago, since both are embodiments of the recent fascination with quirky but artistically resonant narratives that are deeply captivating and always very charming, despite their supposed simplicity. Having a smaller cast proved to be a worthy challenge for Anderson, as each actor is given something memorable to do, and we don’t walk away from this film feeling as if we have seen great actors wasted since there would be very little chance to not make use of these marvellous actors to the full extent of their abilities.

As much as we may be tempted to do so, we can’t pretend that The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is only a narrative achievement, or that this is the primary reason why the film works. Instead, we have to simply acknowledge that Anderson is a filmmaker-driven less by the story and more by images – the plot is strong and poignant, and the emotions perfectly calibrated (perhaps even more than usual), but it’s the visual composition that makes this film special and ultimately is the reason behind its success. This film is as much about the specific story Dahl is telling (particularly in its moral message, since much like many of his short stories, it takes the form of an unconventional fable, featuring all the elements needed to teach a lesson, just presented in a slightly more unorthodox fashion) as it is the actual creation of the story. Filmed on what seems to be a single set, the film evokes the work of Powell and Pressburger in how it is so intentionally artificial, that it circles back and forces us to suspend disbelief, to the point where we see the literal cogs that hold this set together, and it only adds to the delightful nature of the film. He leans into artificiality in a very creative and charming way, and not many contemporary filmmakers would be able to execute such a concept without it seeming gaudy and excessive. Anderson has made it clear that he has a particular style, but he refuses to rest on his laurels and instead chooses to pursue new ways of telling stories while still working within his particular set of talents, which only sharpens his skills and allows him to consistently push the boundaries of what is possible with such stories. Credit should be given to the remarkable team behind the camera, the people who designed the costumes and transformed this set into a cross-continental landscape which Anderson invites us to explore, leading to such a vibrant and captivating comedy with a big heart and a genuine sense of complexity, despite its clear sense of being extremely and meticulously constructed.

I am certainly quite hesitant to discuss some aspects of this film in too much depth, since The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is the first of a quartet of short films that were made and released in a very short period, meaning that there is likely to be a lot of narrative and artistic crossover between the films. However, as the cornerstone of this endeavour, it feels most appropriate to look at some of the more ambitious concepts holistically. Undeniably, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is not going to be positioned as a major work in his oeuvre (perhaps when all four stories are put together we can reassess where it places in comparison to his other work), but it is a delightful confection of a film, a simple but effective short story that he brings to life with such vivacity and charm, it is impossible to ignore. It’s a marvelous film, filled to the brim with colourful imagery and unforgettable compositions, and proves that some of us needed a reminder that Anderson is a true master, Asteroid City was a major work that proved to be an astonishing return to form for the director, all it took to remind us of his immense talents was a small cast, a quartet of stories and a film set occupied by a coterie of incredible artists is more than enough for him to produce something valuable. Captivating, endearing and never anything short of incredibly captivating, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is a terrific experiment that represents all that we have grown to love about Anderson’s work.