The innate imperfection of canine hair gives Wes Anderson’s lovingly crafted dioramas the illusion of life.
Criterion stalwartly continues to ensure that one of America’s finest directors is properly recognized for the master artist that he’s become.
The transfer shows up the seemingly endless visual and auditory pleasures of Anderson’s latest masterpiece.
In his understanding of both the pleasures and limits of fancy, Anderson generously leaves his characters with room to live.
The ingredients that have increasingly defined Wes Anderson’s films seem, with The Darjeeling Limited, to have become something like limitations.