Frankly, I debated a lot about this film. It's something that Netflix clearly assembled in the afterglow of their Oscar win, perhaps in an effort to re-promote the short or to encourage viewers to watch the even shorter segments.

I debated whether it should count among Wes Anderson's feature film filmography. I debated whether this should be a 2023 film or ranked for 2024 and how those arbitrary release technicalities complicates my obsessive list-keeping, largely wishing Netflix strung it together shortly after they all dropped in September. I debated when I should watch it, whether I should wait a little bit longer, having just rewatched The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar a week ago before I knew what this would be, and the frustrating fact that I can't see it in theaters. I debated whether it would hold up as one piece, knowing already that the second half wouldn't stand to the first, it's not exactly an experience you can't replicate with a few clicks anyhow. I even debated whether to add it to Letterboxd in the first place, a process of consideration and eligibility that's largely my responsibility.

And then I thought, fuck it, new Wes!!!!

I've seen The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar five times now and it gets better for me every time. It's a sensory experience. Maybe not as funny or sad as other Wes, but I get a jolt from its revelations. It literally shoots through my body. I spotted even more on this viewing as I gave it extra attention. The Swan largely gives me a similar feeling in a much bleaker way, it's lingered in my mind since I watched it, and I'm proud that it's my most popular review. The Ratcatcher is enhanced by being wedged in here, its open-ended mean-spiritness feeling more balanced out. The biggest new addition is a song by Jarvis Cocker in the end about what it takes to be a great fiction writer and it's an excellent reprieve from Poison to finish.

It was probably a good idea to release them as separate short films in the first place, especially given the general bias against anthology films, and allowing Wes agnostics to go at them at their own pace likely gives them a fairer shot. But for someone who already worships at the altar, just inject it into my veins, I can take it all. Wes Anderson's stripped down and direct approach to The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar and Three More captures my imagination as few films do. Because, of course, there are other ways of seeing besides the eyes.

Thus spoke the old wise yogi.