Condé Nast Traveller Middle East - - Tastemaker - – Steve King

How we look at the world de­pends, among other things, on how other peo­ple show it to us. There are few film-mak­ers with as dis­tinc­tive and hyp­notic a qual­ity of vi­sion as this beaky 49-year-old Texan. You don’t go to The Dar­jeel­ing

Lim­ited or The Grand Bu­dapest Ho­tel for a brac­ing dose of re­al­ity. These are exquisitely lu­cid if not al­to­gether un­trou­bled dreams, stylised to within an inch of any­thing re­sem­bling life. And yet, look again and see that An­der­son has in­spired the aes­thetic of a gen­er­a­tion. His films have made us re­con­sider what was once twee and dusty, the early-20th-cen­tury Mit­tel-Euro­pean shtick, vin­tage-re­vival­ist In­dia and sum­mer-camp Amer­i­cana. From mil­len­nial pink to tea-party

chic, it turns out we’re liv­ing on Planet Wes after all. Which is cause for cel­e­bra­tion rather than alarm. If his movies have a mes­sage, it’s an en­cour­ag­ing one – to look again, seek the sym­me­tries, the pleas­ing rhymes and lovely echoes. Take a mo­ment to smell the per­fectly aligned roses, to in­hale, like Mon­sieur Gus­tave, l’air de panache.

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