How do I put this delicately? Cause I don’t want to join Team Anti-Hipster. I’m not that guy who hates whimsiquirkilicous films, who hates cutesy meta-filmmaking, and pretentious art-school gimcrackery. On the contrary — I love that stuff. I’m that guy. The douchepancake who eats all that up with a spoon, licks the plate, and then shatters it trying to get my face into the porcelain cracks. I am an unabashed, obnoxious *squee* fanboy of Wes Anderson’s first three films. I watched Bottle Rocket on a loop for three weeks straight. I think that Rushmore is one of the few perfect films ever made. When Gwyneth Paltrow stepped off the bus in The Royal Tenenbaums, I got misty. I love pixie girls and IKEA sets and Cat Stevens’ soundtracks. It’s part of the reason I wanted to become a film critic.
But man alive, I have no interest in The Fantastic Mr. Fox. I’m sorry, and with due respect to Wes Anderson, the throwback animatronic format is not where I want to hear Jason Schwartman mumble lethargically, or Bill Murray crack wise, or George Clooney be the wily charming fox. Everything about these first two trailers annoys the ever-living shit out of me. I tried to deny it for a few weeks. I tried to will myself into adoring the idea. But seeing this second trailer — with all new footage — only confirms my initial assessment of The Fantastic Mr. Fox: I don’t want to see it. I want to dunk it in its own sense of smugness. It’s not a kid’s film, and I think that this trailer more than proves that point. It’s an animated film marketed toward Wes Anderson fans. And while I certainly am one, I don’t want fucking Chuck E. Cheese characters delivering Wes Anderson lines. It’s fucking creepy.