A submission to The French Dispatch
Or, J. Cedric Kringle’s Look Out Below!, reviewed
From only the above film stills and for Wes Anderson completists, here is a 297-word review of the imaginary book:
“I’ve taken more out of alcohol than alcohol has taken out of me,” quipped Churchill, cementing his status as the patron saint of high-functioning dipsomaniacs.
Might we say the same of J. Cedric Kringle, the boulevardier who can mix a Boulevardier — “bourbon, Campari, and vermouth, and don’t skimp on the bourbon, Campari, and vermouth!” — even after a trayful of the potent potables?
In Look Out Below! A Nocturnal Romp, Kringle’s latest battle with the bottle has ended in a draw. His seventh exaggerated memoir of a barman-detective can’t quite walk a straight line from evidence to ending. But despite his ludicrous plotting, the soused shamus continues to charm.
In previous capers, Kringle infiltrated the underworld (Nightcaps), tried sobriety (On The Wagon), found it wanting (On The Rocks), uncovered a plot to fix the Kentucky Derby (Bourbon Galore), and played matchmaker to the mayor (Sweet Vermouth), all from his usual table at Armando’s on East Fifty-fifth Street.
Look Out Below! raises the stakes to nose-bleeding heights — to think the Lindbergh baby kidnapping could have been thwarted with a few ice-cold martinis and a bit of savoir faire requires disbelief to be suspended by the neck until dead. Because it’s Kringle we drink it up, knowing that in these stories fisticuffs are briefly exchanged but the gin is never bruised. And the blood on our hero’s shirt is actually crème de cassis.
The book could do without the publisher’s gimmick of printing after-hours scenes as white text on a black page. As well, the maudlin epilogue leaves a sour taste — a Kringle party is always as worth attending as it is worth leaving before sunrise. But when he’s in his cups, there’s no better companion than the man who made the whodunit a hedrunkit.
Quick quips; lightning
“A man’s got to believe in something. I believe I’ll have another drink.”
— W.C. Fields
“Great people talk about ideas, average people talk about things, and small people talk about wine.”
— Fran Lebowitz
“Gentlemen, in the little moment that remains to us between the crisis and the catastrophe, we may as well drink a glass of Champagne.”
— Paul Claudel
Speaking of...
Streaming auteurs
Directorial obsessions
Spoiler alert: That was GWQ No. 129. The above stills from Wes Anderson’s latest film feature the unsmiling editor (Bill Murray) giving a new writer (Jeffrey Wright as an A.J. Liebling-James Baldwin composite) his first assignment for the New Yorkerish magazine. The French Dispatch is now available for purchase for ~$25 on all the streaming services, and it looks like it’ll be on HBO Max in the U.S. and Disney+ everywhere else in February. Film rights for Elements of Wit: Mastering The Art of Being Interesting are available for the price of 83 centimes, one candied chestnut, and four cigarettes. If you feel shy about your new muscles, tap the ❤️ below.