Author’s Note: As mentioned in the previous review, this is part of a four-part series in which we are looking at Wes Anderson’s short films based on various works by Roald Dahl. While these reviews are as independent of each other as the films, they still exist in dialogue with one another, so for the sake of consistency, you may read the previous review of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and The Swan to situate yourself within the broader conversation being had between these four incredibly fascinating texts.
We are now over halfway through the four-part discussion on Wes Anderson’s quartet of films that are based on the collected works of Roald Dahl, in which the esteemed director took four of his short stories and translated them into film. The third chapter in this series is The Rat Catcher, which in itself exists in a very peculiar place within the author’s career, being a part of a series of short stories collectively known as “Claude’s Dog”, which has been noted to be based on Dahl’s experiences observing the occupants of a strange English hamlet, which was the source of a great deal of his more fascinating stories. In this one, we are introduced to a pair of local businessmen who encounter a man known only as “The Rat Man” – and while they initially believe this is only his job description, they soon learn that there is more to his career than simply being an experience on exterminating rats, especially since he seems to know slightly too much about these pests for it only to be a mere vocation. Intriguing and sinister in equal measure, and constructed with the same attention to detail that we’ve seen from Anderson consistently over the years, this continues a long tradition of blending fascinating character development with a slightly darker message that has not always been present in his work, but when it does find its way to the forefront, the results are often nothing short of magnificent, even when given a limited amount of time to examine a range of different subjects. This only consolidates Anderson’s masterful techniques and confirms that he is truly one of our most innovative filmmakers.
Yet again, Anderson is drawing inspiration from the slightly darker recesses of Dahl’s literary career, and The Rat Catcher contains some of the writer’s most pointed and harrowing commentary, albeit the kind that is still intrinsically funny in the sardonic, almost provocative way that we have come to expect from his work. As was the case with the previous two films, there is a deeper meaning beneath this story, and the director’s intentions become even more clear, as the stories blend and we start to see them take shape in fascinating ways. I have a suspicion that these four films are all centred around a very specific subject, but we’ll discuss that in the final review, to see if this is the case. However, taken on its own, we find that The Rat Catcher is a film about the darker side of the human condition, focused on those mysterious people who live on the margins of society, occupying a vital role but yet remaining mostly invisible – and while we are inclined to pity these people due to their disposition, some of them make it very clear why they are usually obscured from view, as is the case with the titular character in The Rat Catcher, who is one of Dahl’s most sinister and mysterious characters, as well as one of the most violent. Anderson may seem like an odd fit for the material since he hasn’t always had a lot of success telling slightly darker stories, but he rose to the challenge and proved to be more than capable of tackling these ideas, turning this story into an engaging and captivating film that is both blisteringly funny and quite impactful in how it navigates its themes.
In cycling through the same small set of actors employed to bring these stories to life, we find that it is now Richard Ayoade’s turn to lead one of the films – and as someone who is somewhat inspired by Anderson’s films in his work, it is a wonderful opportunity to see him inhabit the director’s world, especially since he makes perfect sense as one of his protagonists. Playing the part of the nameless narrator who is our entry-point into this story, he is a perfect straight man for the more eccentric character, who is here played by Ralph Fiennes (who is once again pulling double duty, playing both The Rat Man and the fictionalized version of Dahl himself, as he did in the previous two films), and he proves to be even more sinister than he was in the villainous roles he played throughout his career. Few actors have been more dedicated to capturing so many different kinds of villainy as Fiennes, and he adds yet another to his growing canon of impressive antagonists. A special mention must go to Rupert Friend, who once again plays a memorable supporting role in an Anderson ensemble, and proves that he is a worthy muse for the director, especially in how he handles some of the more peculiar aspects of this character, who could have very easily faded into the background but became almost as fascinated as Ayoade and Fiennes, the actors making quite a formidable trio that work together to bring this insidious little parable to the screen with vivacity and forthright dedication, two qualities sorely missing from many modern comedies.
As we head towards the fourth and final entry into this four-part series, we can start to see exactly what Anderson set out to achieve with these films. My initial suspicion is proving to be somewhat true, since these films have a very distinct narrative thread that ties them together, often in quite peculiar but impactful ways. The Rat Catcher is quite clearly another chance for Anderson to make use of his remarkably colourful, vibrant style (the kind that celebrates artificiality rather than retreating away from it), but putting it to the test in the form of this strange, offbeat experiment that sees him navigating much darker territory, while still maintaining a consistency that makes his work so incredible recognizable. It’s an odd film, and it seems to prove how these stories are intentionally becoming darker and more unsettling as we venture through them, a fascinating choice that makes us realize that there is much more to Anderson’s work than just the usual twee style that has seemingly defined his career and that he has maintained a level of incredible complexity for most of his career that is only starting to be seen as being more multidimensional than we initially expected. We’ll soon discuss the final entry into this quartet of films, and hopefully tie them together thematically, finding the common threads between them and ultimately understanding exactly what it was that drew Anderson to undertake such a bold endeavour, which has proven to showcase many of his more dormant but deeply impressive directorial talents.
The Postmodern Pelican 