Author’s Note: This is the final entry into our four-part series in which we are exploring Wes Anderson’s short films based on the collected short stories 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 reviews of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, The Swan and The Rat Catcher to situate yourself within the broader conversation being had between these four incredibly fascinating texts.
We have now reached the final entry into Wes Anderson’s experiment in which he chose four stories by Roald Dahl and adapted them into a series of short films, united through a few common themes and artistic decisions, but divided by the different narrative details, tonal landscape and character components that make each one quite different but still deeply entertaining. Poison is the final one, and it is perhaps the most effective, perhaps not on its own, but rather as the accumulation of several themes, which flowed liberally throughout the three previous entries and meet their terminal point in this film. Taking us to the beautiful landscapes of rural India (or rather the version of it that Anderson imagines, with Robert Yeoman’s stunning cinematography and the efforts from the costume and set design teams being impeccable as usual), the film is based around one of Dahl’s most cherished stories, albeit one that tends to be quite dark at times, particularly in how it contains overtures of colonialism and psychological torment, neither of which are themes that any of us expected to find in an Anderson production. Often quite funny, but never anything less than absolutely engaging, Poison concludes a quartet of films that represent some of Anderson’s best work to date, being a darkly comical parable that carries with it a sense of deep sincerity and a lot of complexity that we may not have initially expected from a director who has often been criticized for his supposed lack of nuance, when in reality he is as gifted today as he was when he first started in the industry.
As intended, Poison is a film that employs the small set of actors that Anderson hired to recur throughout the four stories, and this time the focus shifts to Dev Patel, who is given the chance to lead one of the films. As one of the most unquestionably gifted young actors of his generation, Patel has proven himself to be more than capable of taking on any material, and while the role of the unnamed protagonist and narrator of this story may not seem complex on the surface, it is most definitely one of the more challenging roles that Dahl was written, precisely because of the ambigious nature of his background, since he is a narrator without any context, and everything we learn about him is through the performance, rather than any known context. Patel is excellent, as are Benedict Cumberbatch, who plays the part of Harry with superb attention to detail, and the always reliable Ben Kingsley, who takes on the role of Dr Ganderbai with a combination of compassion and slightly off-kilter sternness, creating a trio of exceptional performances that carry us through this sometimes peculiar narrative. As a whole, these films proved that Anderson could cast great actors in roles that give them more than a few lines and a quirky character description. These may not be complex roles on the surface, but each of the actors brings something special to the roles, and the fact that he made use of the same set throughout the films is the perfect antidote to the allegations that he overstuffs his films with familiar faces without giving them the chance to do anything interesting. I do not doubt that all of these actors are going to have these short films cited as some of their most entertaining and compelling works in the future, which seems entirely appropriate considering the amount of depth simmering throughout these films.
Having seen all four films, there is a common thread that we find binds the films, whether intentional or not, and it surprisingly extends beyond this specific endeavour and can be found scattered throughout Anderson’s work – and perhaps most interesting is that it is a theme that we do not usually expect when dealing with someone known for such a twee style: death. Nearly every one of the director’s films deals with death, whether as the catalyst for the plot, as the final resolution of a story or just as an additional subject that is woven into the tapestries of these films. Looking at these Dahl adaptations, we find each one deals with death differently – The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is about a man who cheats death for as long as he can, and chooses to leave a lasting legacy. The Swan is a tragicomic tale of how bullying and childhood mischief can have very dark consequences. The Rat Catcher is a film about someone who makes a living by ending the lives of the only creatures he truly understands. Poison is somehow the darkest of the four, but it’s the only one where a character doesn’t die, but rather it is the constant fear of death that propels this story. It seems only appropriate that Anderson would choose to end this series of films with the only one that has an ambigious ending, since the lack of a clear resolution and the intentionally vague conclusion provokes thought and asks us to offer our interpretation, which is contained within this film, a dark and foreboding story in which we never quite know whether or not the central motif exists or is merely a delusion, with the ambiguity giving the film a sense of complexity. Anderson’s bright style sometimes betrays the fact that he usually does explore deeper topics, and Poison is the perfect representative of what he set out to achieve.
To have spent this week gradually exploring these films and unpacking their meaning has been a delight, and it is undeniable that Anderson is truly one of our great filmmakers. In hindsight, the idea of him making a quartet of short films, all based around stories by one of the most esteemed authors in the history of the English language (and someone to whom he holds a considerable amount of adoration) seems obvious and not all that inspiring – yet there is still something so extraordinarily engaging about what he is doing here since he defies conventions and goes in his unique direction. Perhaps we need to look to Dahl himself to understand the quality that makes these four films – and in particular Poison in its capacity as the closing chapter of the project – so insightful is the well-known adage that also happens to have been given to one of his famous anthologies of stories: expecting the unexpected. We can never tell where these stories are going, but they’re certainly very entertaining and conceal a deeper meaning, and part of the experience is decoding these challenging themes, which prove to be a lot more puzzling than they initially appear. It’s a captivating project that has many strong ideas, and Anderson utilizes his distinct style to bring these fascinating stories to life, handcrafting each one into a delightful confection with a slightly bitter centre, the kind that is still enjoyable but makes it clear that there is something more than initially meets the eye. It would appear as if Anderson is back to pushing boundaries, and while these are undeniably tethered to every one of his previous films in terms of tone and style, there is still something so engaging about this ambitious production that makes us appreciate Anderson’s work, which is much more compelling than many of us may have expected. He is a true master, and his efforts to breathe new life into these iconic stories only consolidate his immense gifts.
The Postmodern Pelican 