Alfred Hitchcock’s idea of ”pure cinema” drew on his education during the silent film era, but you can see it affecting all of his films. He thought that the film should be enjoyed by a mute person, because the main images—birds flocking on telephone wires—tell the story in the same way as the dialogue. You can imagine what he thought of Wes Anderson’s movies, where every scene in every movie involved two people telling the smartest jokes while moving as little as possible.
“Wes Anderson: The Archives” at the Design Museum in London is the first major museum exhibition dedicated to the filmmaker, and provides context for appreciation outside of his movies. The exhibit includes more than 700 pieces of ephemera related to his films, including costumes, props, puppets, miniature models, drawings, Anderson’s spiral-bound notebooks and storyboards. These are taken from a personal archive he has built up since then Rushmore (1998), when he began writing in his contracts that everything made for his films would be his own, following the sale of certain items from Bottle Rocket (1996). The exhibition is a collaboration with la Cinémathèque française in Paris, where it was first shown last year, and has been expanded to include some 300 other items in London.
It makes sense that Anderson’s archive would be so large because so much work goes into the elements that make up the universe. A drawing A boy with an apple The MacGuffin in The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) about a fake singer called “Johannes Van Hoytl Jr.” It was actually painted by someone named Michael Taylor, but the art directed by Anderson came down to the type of fur from the costume and the mysterious piece of paper in the background. The London dancer was the model for the boy but his hand position on the trunk has been removed from the 16th-century Fontainebleau School portrait of Gabrielle d’Estrées holding her sister’s nipple. There are enough idiosyncrasies for it to read like a pretty believable portrait of a young Renaissance gentleman, even with a brief flash on the screen.
I’ve heard the argument that Anderson’s best films are those made specifically for children and stop-motion. The wonderful Mr. Fox (2009) allowed Anderson to liven up his spirits. Mr. Fox is just one foot tall, a ball and socket doll covered in mohair, alpaca and goat hair, but like Anderson’s other objects he is convincing. His corduroy suit is made to look like a human and his face is soft enough to mimic. It is the same with dogs Isle of Dogs (2018), although people’s heads have been changed.
Location of Asteroid City (2023) is described in the catalog as “not a city, but a work of art of the highest order moonlighting as a hamlet on the edge of the Arizona desert (‘Pop: 87’).” If it’s thought of as a giant installation with moving parts, aka people, then its engines could be high-end sales machines offering anything from real estate to martinis. The catalog also notes how the research involved looking at actual vending machines for meat, bread, socks and eggs from the early post-war years. The result is a series of character-filled theater that is as entertaining as it is expressive of deep Americana. Anderson may be in tight control of his characters but his material is given great range.
“Wes Anderson: Archives” is on view at the Design Museum in London until July 26, 2026.
More show updates
