The Wonderful Story of Wes Anderson and Bertolt Brecht + An Announcement
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“…I just couldn’t figure out how to adapt [The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar]. I just didn’t see a way to do it. And then it was the idea of using his [Roald Dahl’s] description of it, really, that appealed to me. I thought, “Well, that would be fun to do. I could see a way to do that.” Because I realized that much of what I’d always loved about the story was simply his voice throughout it, and I said, “Well, there’s one way to keep his voice — just use it.” And so that’s what we did.”
- Wes Anderson, Deadline interview, September 20231
WHAT FOLLOWS IS A WORK OF FICTION. MORE OR LESS.
Lights! We begin with a young Wes Anderson (as played by Jason Schwartzman in a wig).
‘It started in a library,’ he says. Rows of books on wooden shelves appear in the background. Anderson turns around and starts browsing. He looks at the audience over his shoulder and adds, ‘I was a bored teenager, and I was about to discover something fascinating.’
He turns his attention back to the shelf and finds a small black book. Turning around, he shows it to the audience. It’s a leather-bound volume with gold lettering on it.
“Short Description of a New Technique of Acting which Produces an Alienation Effect, by Bertolt Brecht.”
A subtitle adds: “Translated by John Willett.”
‘At the time, I had no idea who Bertolt Brecht was,’ Anderson continues, taking the book to a convenient desk. ‘I didn’t know he was a revolutionary German playwright and poet. A Marxist. A modernist. A lot of things, really.’
He sits down and starts to read. The Ghost of Bertolt Brecht enters stage left, played by a clean-shaven and bespectacled Dev Patel (who looks nothing like Brecht, by the way). Brecht speaks.
“What follows,” he quotes, “represents an attempt to describe a technique of acting which was applied in certain theatres with a view to taking the incidents portrayed and alienating them from the spectator. The aim of this technique, known as the alienation effect, was to make the spectator adopt an attitude of inquiry and criticism in his approach to the incident. The means were artistic.”
‘It’s a brilliant book,’ Anderson says, still reading. ‘It explains how things like fourth-wall breaks, hyper-stylized art, and surreal or unreal elements could be used to force the audience to engage with the work critically, instead of the emotional storytelling that we normally see in film, television, and the stage. This particular edition comes with a final comment.’
Brecht says, “It may not always be possible to utilize all these techniques to their fullest potential. However, I have hope that there are artists, perhaps just one in a million, who can find the true essence of these ideas and take them further.”
Anderson closes the book and Brecht walks away. Anderson looks at the audience and says, ‘I’ve got to try this.’
He looks to the side and sees Ralph Fiennes standing there looking quite confused.
‘Hello?’ Anderson calls out, his tone inquisitive.
‘I’m not in this scene, am I?’ Fiennes asks. Anderson shakes his head. Fiennes exits.
The bookshelves are rolled away and replaced by cardboard cut-outs of trees. Anderson puts on a prep school blazer and, standing centre-stage, begins to speak.
‘It didn’t happen overnight,’ he says. ‘But as I began to practice my craft, I found myself improving by leaps and bounds. Cue montage.’
A series of costume and background changes follow in quick succession, with Anderson visually ageing up in the process. Try to keep up. I’ll label them for you.
Costume: A beige suit over a polo shirt.
Setting: A decadent New York apartment.
Anderson says, ‘I was pleasantly surprised as people began to talk about my aesthetic and my signature. The word “auteur” was thrown around a lot. And I got a credit card.’
Dev Patel, out of his Brecht make-up, walks up to Anderson and hands him an American Express card, then walks off.
‘Soon, a wonderful thought occurred to me,’ Anderson continues, putting the card in his pocket. ‘Maybe I’m the one-in-a-million artist with magic Alienation powers.’
Costume: A light blue shirt and a long red hand-knit beanie.
Setting: A retro-futuristic submarine.
‘There were disappointments.’
Costume: A grey suit and a brown leather messenger bag.
Setting: An Indian luxury train.
‘But I found a way to turn it around. And go even further.’
The whole scene transforms from live-action to stop-motion animation.
‘Much further,’ he emphasizes. ‘Not yet!’ he adds, addressing Fiennes, who has walked onto the scene dressed as Roald Dahl.
‘But I should be in this one,’ the actor insists.
‘Yes, you should,’ Anderson says. ‘But it makes more artistic sense to save our meeting for the end.’
Fiennes walks away shaking his head.
More transitions zoom by quicker than I can transcribe. A Boy Scout uniform. A Purple blazer. I’ll just skip to the last one.
Costume: A grey suit and oxfords.
Setting: A street in France (black and white).
‘There was just one problem,’ Anderson says. ‘Though I had spent a lifetime trying to engage my audience intellectually, somehow, I’d had the opposite effect. I realized this fact after a conversation with my mailman.’
Ralph Fiennes walks up to him, dressed in an ill-fitting postal uniform. Anderson looks surprised.
‘What are you doing?’ he hisses under his breath. ‘Where’s Owen?’
‘I got bored waiting for my scene,’ Fiennes whispers back. ‘So I locked him in the bathroom and stole his costume.’
The mailman straightens up and declares, ‘As a mailman, and an average member of the public, I think you’re amazing. Just aces. I put on one of your movies and I forget all about my life.’
Anderson addresses the audience. ‘Is that true?’ he asks. ‘Is that really how you feel? Am I really just an escape for you?’
The mailman exits and almost runs into the Ghost of Bertolt Brecht as he approaches.
‘Bertolt, help me,’ says Anderson. ‘Is it my politics, or lack thereof? When did I stop being the one-in-a-million artist with magic Alienation powers? Was I ever that person?’
‘Beruhige dich, my friend,’ Brecht says. ‘Calm yourself.’
Anderson and Brecht take a deep breath together, hold it for a few seconds, and then let it all out.
‘Would you like to see how it all began?’ Brecht asks.
‘Sure.’
‘Good. You don’t speak Mandarin, do you?’
‘No, why?’
‘That should help.’
The scene dissolves to black.
A single spotlight illuminates the dark. Legendary Chinese Opera performer Mei Lanfang steps into the light, dressed in elaborate costume. He is played by Michelle Yeoh.2
Brecht and Anderson take their seats on either side of you, and the performance begins.
‘I saw this particular performance in 1935,’ Brecht says on your left side. ‘And it changed my life. I understand that you thought you were the one-in-a-million artist with magic Alienation powers, but the truth is that there is no such thing. Watch, you’ll see.’
On your right, Anderson says, ‘I watched. The performance unfolded in an ordered rhythm, revealing itself beyond language and story, the thing in itself. It’s not something I can translate or even communicate. My brain took in the elements of the performance in a way it never did before. I had a sense that what I was witnessing was a bewildering and bedazzling cosmic mystery.’
‘I wanted to wake people up,’ says Brecht.
‘And I finally saw what he got wrong,’ Anderson finishes.
Mei Lanfang speaks, his (her) words echoed by an unseen chorus:
“You can’t wake up if you don’t fall asleep.”
“You can’t wake up if you don’t fall asleep.”
“You can’t wake up if you don’t fall asleep.”
The performance ends. The performer bows. The spotlight turns off.
When the light returns, we’re looking at a pastel set depicting a desert landscape. Pink sand and blue sky. Jeff Goldblum walks up with a signboard that says “Asteroid City”, places it off to one side, and exits. Wes Anderson enters, carrying a fold-out chair, which he sets up on the other side. He sits.
Enter a Netflix executive (played by Dev Patel). The executive approaches Anderson.
‘Congratulations on the new movie,’ he says. ‘It’s one of your best.’
‘Thank you, you’re very kind,’ Anderson replies.
‘I was hoping to reintroduce you to an old friend,’ the executive says, gesturing behind him. Ralph Fiennes enters, dressed once again as Roald Dahl.
‘Hello, Wes,’ says Dahl.
‘Roald!’ Anderson leaps to his feet. ‘Is it time?’
‘Yes, it is.’ The writer hands Anderson a small paperback. Anderson holds it up for the audience to see. It’s white, with an illustration of a man in his pyjamas standing on a balcony and throwing money at the people on the street. The name of the book is scrawled in red letters.
“The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Six More, by Roald Dahl.”
‘Thank you,’ says Anderson. ‘I’ll do my best.’
The setting changes to a small, cluttered but quaint writing room with warm yellow walls. Anderson sits at a convenient desk and begins to read. Dahl stands behind him and speaks.
“Henry Sugar was forty-one years old and unmarried,” he quotes. “He was also wealthy. He was wealthy because he had had a rich father who was now dead. He was unmarried because he was too selfish to share any of his money with a wife…”
The above piece was originally going to be an article examining the influences of German poet and playwright Bertolt Brecht on Wes Anderson films, specifically his recent Oscar-winner The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. It seemed a bit boring so I turned it into a story instead.
I also have a little announcement to make.
Announcement:
Two weeks from today, I will be debuting my first serialized story on this platform. It’s a four-part science fiction mystery, with Part 1 coming out on March 27. (Coincidentally, that’s one day before my birthday!)
Next week, I’ll be unveiling the story’s title and banner image, as well as dropping a few details about what you can expect. I’ve worked very hard on this one and I really hope you’ll like it.
See you then!
https://deadline.com/2023/09/wes-anderson-interview-roald-dahl-the-wonderful-story-of-henry-sugar-1235548935/
Mei Lanfang was a male actor best known for his performances in female roles.
Remus,
"Whaaaaaat?" That was strangely wonderful. You certainly have an active, creative mind. Disconnected yet connected. I need to check out your serialized piece of work.
Joel
Thank you so much, Joel. You're so kind! I hope you enjoy the serial.