Wes Anderson Wednesday presents, The Cabal of Mid-Week Dissidents.
There are few things that delight me more than a Wes Anderson film, no matter how quirky, or precious, or nonsensical it may be. My favorite movie of his is also the first I ever saw: The Life Aquatic, a film that through conversation I have deduced seems to be one of people's least appreciated. "It's slow, it drags, it's random to the point of absurdity. It doesn't really have a point." Maybe. Maybe. It could be that I watched it during one of my zeniths of emotional convolution, at which time the formula of being slow, and dragging, and random was so flawless it left an indelible mark on my psyche. What I remember is the light stream of air beginning to flow through my nose at the top of a sharp inhale—betraying a shallow hiss the way a valve might when pressure is being released—and feeling the tightness in my chest give way to a long exhale as the Jaguar Shark appeared from the murky depths of the screen. The move is two hours long and every time I watch it, it is specifically for that.
"Why don't you just skip ahead or YouTube that shit?" Because it won't be the same. And I don't know why, it just won't. I know. I have tried. Not all things make sense, or have reason. Without a doubt, there is an individual out there in the world who will argue against that with all the certainty his being can muster, but that has not been my experience. Some things, for me, just are. Just as, perhaps, some things just are for Wes Anderson: so resolute in their quirkiness, their preciousness, their nonsensicality, that really, what else could they be?
Zara coat, pants, and boots
Urban Outfitters sweater
J. Crew belt and necklace