It would seem that Wes Anderson has recently released a number of short films on Netflix, so get ready for a series.  I am starting with The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar because it is the first of these I noticed on the streaming service.  The overwhelming majority of the movies covered here on The Legionnaire have been feature length productions.  This is the first of its kind on the blog.  However, before you go thinking that I am changing the type of content I cover, please note a few salient facts.  First, this one, though I do not know about the other three, premiered at a film festival.  Secondly, it received a limited theatrical release.  Therefore, if others are willing to label it a film, then the same goes for me.

In order for you to understand The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, it is important to know how it is told.  There are a number of layers here, and the whole experience has Anderson’s unique sense of artificiality while also being more real than most big budget productions.  It is also based on a short story written by Roald Dahl (Ralph Fiennes).  What you are watching, then, is Anderson attempting to recreate the experience of reading a book but doing so in such a way to make it look like a play, with sets transforming before your eyes.  Dahl starts by sitting down in his chair, seeming like you are going to be witnessing him write the events as they unfold.  He introduces us the title character (Benedict Cumberbatch), who does not sound sympathetic.  Henry is rich, and only cares about getting richer, which is the only thing that matters to the wealthy according to Dahl.  Henry is in the expansive home of an equally well-off person and exploring the library when he stumbles upon an apparently misplaced book.  Curious, he opens to the first page and finds pages about a man named Imdad Khan (Sir Ben Kingsley).  They are written by Dr. Chatterjee (Dev Patel), who encounters Imdad in India in the 1930s when the latter presents himself to the hospital in which the former is working.  Imdad claims to be able to plainly view his surroundings with his eyes closed, and asks that they go to whatever lengths they deem necessary to blindfold the older man so that he can prove the veracity of his claims.  Having done so, he proceeds to walk through the building with ease, avoiding potential obstacles, and riding a bicycle off into traffic without incident.  So impressed is Dr. Chatterjee by what he sees, believing it could be a major medical breakthrough, that he resolves to go see Imdad perform later that night.  Dr. Chatterjee’s intention is to learn the secret behind Imdad’s ability.  To this end, Dr. Chatterjee visits Imdad after the show, and the performer lays out his life story.  Imdad joined a traveling circus as a child, but heard of these great feats performed by a local yogi (Richard Ayoade).  Seeking to witness this first hand, Imdad travels deep into the jungle where he beholds the yogi levitating in prayer a few feet off the ground for several hours.  Imdad startles the yogi in his eagerness to learn this ability, so much so that the yogi throws a brick at Imdad, wounding the young man.  Out of remorse, the yogi agrees to divulge some of his secrets.  Basically, the yogi states that the human mind is too cluttered, but if you can get it to focus on one thing at once for even a short period of time, then extraordinary things are possible.  The catch, though, is that this takes decades of practice, and lots of repetition.  Still, by spending the necessary amount of time, Imdad is able to achieve the seemingly impossible gift he had displayed in the hospital to Dr. Chatterjee.  Sadly, before this could be exploited to its fullest, Imdad passes away the next day.  Yet, he had managed to write down what he had learned in the short book from which Henry has been reading.  The one aspect of it that stands out the most for Henry is Imdad talking about how he could observe the face of a playing card without needing to have it turned to him.  This is the path to gaining more riches Henry desires.  He becomes obsessed with attaining this ability, typically spending at least twelve hours a day staring at the wick of a burning candle as did Imdad.  However, where it took the Indian performer decades to achieve “sight without sight,” Henry gets there in a little over a year.  Now it is time to take his talents to the nearest casino.  Opting for blackjack, the moment of truth comes when he draws a nineteen on the initial deal, and asks for another card knowing that it is a two.  This usually foolhardy approach pays off but attracts a crowd, and he realizes that he must be more careful in the future.  One measure he adopts right away is to set a limit as to how much he can win at once, but still walking away with a sizable amount of money.  He should feel happy, but the next morning a sense of emptiness comes over him, and he throws the stacks of money out of his window.  This causes a stir below to the annoyance the policeman (Ralph Fiennes) who comes to his door.  The cop makes Henry understand that the cash is better given away in a more organized fashion.  Thus, he goes around the world, being careful to disguise himself in different casinos, and using the money to charitable works wherever he goes until the day of his death.

Watching The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar is an enriching experience for this Catholic, and not simply because it is a Wes Anderson production.  It is not always a perfect representation of Catholicism because it appears that Anderson no longer practices, the Faith undoubtedly has an influence on his work.  He also seems to have a penchant for Eastern philosophies and religions.  This is not ideal, but there are some parallels.  Having dabbled in such things myself before my conversion and Confirmation, I can attest to this being true.  What the yogi says about our minds is fact, and something that we Catholics have to contend with when we go to pray.  I find this happens often when I say my daily Rosary.  More times than I care to admit, I have to draw my thoughts back to the focus of the activity, and it takes less than a couple of minutes for my brain to once more drift.  If we could remain fixed on God the way it is suggested by the yogi or Imdad, then I believe Catholicism would be the largest religion in the world.  We could do equally amazing things, and we have evidence of this fact.  Remember the part I described of the Yogi levitating?  I give you St. Joseph of Cupertino, a seventeenth century Italian saint.  So in tune, if you will, with God was he that at the mere mention of Him, St. Joseph would be propelled into what are described as states of ecstasy.  One way this would manifest itself was by levitating off the ground.  I am not talking about sitting on top of a box cleverly blended into the background as you see in the movie.  This was rising several feet into the air, scraping your forehead on the ceiling feats of flight.  This is interesting, too, when you consider that this was not some tall tale from the Dark Ages, but right on the cusp of the so-called Age of Enlightenment.  St. Joseph also was considered, to put it mildly, learning impaired.  I bring this last part up to illustrate the wonderful mystery of the people God chooses as His instruments, with which the film nicely dovetails.

Unlike so many of Wes Anderson’s features, regardless of their length, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar does not have the flashes of nudity he seems too often to insist on adding.  What you are left with is all his trademark whimsy, which makes for a short, sweet, and enriching view.  I recommend it.