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Fantastic Mr. Fox poster

Fantastic Mr. Fox

2009 · Wes Anderson

For when you want something witty and warm the whole household can watch without anyone feeling talked down to — comfort viewing with genuine bite.

What it's about

A fox with a wild past has gone respectable — newspaper column, wife, kid, a nice tree — but he can't resist planning one last run of raids on the three nastiest farmers in the valley. When the farmers strike back, his whole burrowed community pays the price. It's a heist caper, a midlife crisis, and a family comedy in one, adapted from Roald Dahl's book.

The experience

Fast, dry, and constantly funny, with Anderson's deadpan timing somehow made funnier coming out of puppets — and then a real vein of rue underneath, about a charmer who can't stop being what he is. It's over in a brisk ninety minutes and you'll want to rewatch scenes just for the line deliveries.

Performances

George Clooney's vocal turn as Mr. Fox is a small marvel — all silver-tongued confidence with panic just underneath — and Meryl Streep matches him with dry, weary warmth; Anderson recorded his cast outdoors on a working farm, and you can hear the looseness in every scene.

The craft

Anderson shot the stop-motion at a deliberately old-fashioned frame rate and let the puppets' fur ripple with the animators' fingerprints — imperfection as warmth, against the digital smoothness of its era. Every frame is composed like a diorama you want to live in, with an autumn-gold palette that glows on a good screen.

Why it matters

It revitalized Anderson's career after a soft patch and revealed stop-motion as the medium his miniaturist sensibility had been waiting for — its handmade logic flows directly into his later work.

Essays & theory: a reading of Fantastic Mr. Fox →

Reception & legacy: how Fantastic Mr. Fox was received, argued over, and remembered →

Wes Anderson's first animated feature takes Roald Dahl's slim fable of a chicken-thieving fox and swells it into a rueful comedy about a middle-aged charmer who cannot stop being what he is, to the peril of everyone burrowed around him. Coming after a soft patch in Anderson's live-action career, it proved a revitalizing detour: stop-motion, it turned out, was the medium his dollhouse sensibility had been waiting for, and its miniature logic flows directly into Isle of Dogs and the model work of The Grand Budapest Hotel. Against the digital smoothness of its era, Anderson shot at a deliberately old-fashioned frame rate and let the puppets' fur ripple with the animators' fingerprints — imperfection as warmth. He even marched his cast, George Clooney and Meryl Streep included, out to a working farm to record dialogue in fields and stables rather than sound booths. The whole film glows in an autumnal register of corduroy, cider and turned leaves.

Lines of influence

More essays on Wes Anderson’s films