The literary world of Roald Dahl is eccentric, humorous and often mischievous; naturally, the cinematic universe of Wes Anderson is its perfect match. Yes, Anderson’s latest Dahl adaptation, “The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar” (Netflix, 2023), is every bit as charming as his last, “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” (2009). Despite a seemingly never-ending influx of movie adaptations, Anderson claims “The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar” as his own by combining his eccentric aesthetic and Dahl’s authorial wisdom in this 41-minute short.
Henry Sugar, portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch, is a rotten cheat, bachelor, gambler and money bag — entirely contradictory to the ‘wonderful story’ from which Henry stems.
The film begins with a disinterested Henry. Impatient and spoiled, he is unsatisfied with his Saturday afternoon at the stately countryside manor of ‘Sir William W.’ and unimpressed by the house’s grandeur. Instead, he steals to the library to find something extraordinary: a small book, entitled “The Man Who Sees Without His Eyes.”
While Henry is introduced as the epitome of gross extravagance, his journey transforms him into a surprisingly charitable, introspective man. In his storytelling, Dahl heartily embraces hyperbolic, humorous contrasts, characters and plots as a means of emphasizing the good and mocking the bad in human nature. Anderson’s cinematic subjective portrayal of reality loudly echoes this literary voice.
“The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar” switches narrative perspective on several occasions. The film begins with the external perspective of author Roald Dahl, portrayed by Ralph Fiennes. The subsequent narratives shift between Henry and the ensemble of characters who recount their role in “The Man Who Sees Without His Eyes.” Henry’s life is transformed by this book, which gives the medical account of a man who, under the guidance of a guru, learns to see without using his eyes. Henry is remarkably inspired by this text, and he commits himself to three years of intense, mindful study (designed for cheating at blackjack, of course).
Anyone familiar with Anderson’s work –– cinephiles and average movie-goers alike –– is attuned to his proclivity for symmetry, long takes, meticulous mise-en-scène, and mood-signifying color palettes. While these techniques certainly distinguish Anderson as a director stylistically, the root of his eccentricity is in his imaginative storytelling.
Like many of Anderson’s films, “The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar” toys with the cinematic fourth wall, walking a fragile line between internal and external worlds. “Henry Sugar” is a special case. The script is divided into several major monologues, with only a few moments of inter-character dialogue scattered throughout.
In typical fourth-wall-breaking fashion, these monologues are delivered directly to the camera, but Anderson redefines the methodology by portraying the story as a play performed on stage. Through moving set pieces, two-dimensional buildings, working stage crew and timed spotlight cues, Anderson constructs a fast-paced, visually stimulating theater. This elaborate combination evokes a Dahl-esque rhythm, humor and joy. Meanwhile, the film’s ensemble plays across the fourth wall to illustrate the invaluable connection Dahl creates with each of his readers: the moral lesson.
Anderson deviates from the book’s plot by including a grandfather-like Dahl, who writes “Henry Sugar” from the whimsical comfort of his backyard hut. In an interview with Deadline, Anderson reveals his intent: “I just couldn’t figure out how to adapt [“Henry Sugar”]. I just didn’t see a way to do it…[then] I realized that much of what I’d always loved about the story was simply [Dahl’s] voice throughout it.” Anderson gives “Henry Sugar” the close consideration that many Dahl adaptations lack: a profound respect for and fascination with the source material: not just its content, but its expressive style and persona.
In a cinematic age in which original content has become increasingly scarce, Anderson has proved steadfast in his artistry. While “Henry Sugar” is undeniably an adaptation, Anderson’s devotion to his own aesthetic differentiates this project from others within the literary adaptation genre. From whimsical stop-motion animation in “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” to the personified authorial voice of Roald Dahl in “Henry Sugar,” Anderson makes something entirely his own out of long-loved stories. When it comes to Dahl projects, Anderson is unparalleled: both adults and children share in the delight of eccentricity and the unconventional working as one.
