Je vous cherche.

A convergence of events: rumors begin flying that the 15 minute prequel to Wes Anderson's film The Darjeeling Limited will not be in wide release with the feature-length material, and I find a great place to eat moules et frites in Chicago.

The prequel, entitled "Hotel Chevalier," is set in Paris, stars Natalie Portman, and I think that it's only because of the French connection that the buzz around this short film keeps making me think of food.

From what I have read, the film follows the de-unification of two lovers in Paris (a theme not unexplored in the annals of film), and may be essential to one's enjoyment of The Darjeeling Limited. It was originally supposed to be screened alongside the full-length film. So why the change? As a blindly giddy fan of Wes Anderson films, I can't help but feel indignant and worried that the two shows are being separated before birth; Anderson's work is the sort of thing I love so much that any new release makes me break out in a cold sweat, fearing that I will not like it as much and that the magic will be broken.

Having a short companion piece, filmed (as it is rumored) well over a year before Darjeeling Limited was a concept that comforted me aesthetically. I've always been intrigued by bodies of work with continuity - some of my favorite short-story writers do this to great effect (Shirley Jackson and Kate Atkinson, for example) - especially the kind that is simultaneously subtle and obvious. Quiet, eerie connections between stories and films throughout an artist's career (or within a single body of work) evoke a certain psychological realism for me, like experiencing someone else's deja vu. Wes Anderson's movies do share some commonalities - if not in story lines, then in themes, actors, and overall cinematographic style - but adding a short film as a supplement to a larger work strikes me as a bolder move. A related work that is not a mere sequel.

I realize now that I posed a question that I cannot answer: why the change? We'll have to wait and see.

But to tie back in to my earlier culinary vein, every restaurant I eat in is essentially part of an interconnected narrative for me. Our neighborhood is flanked by the Swedes and the Vietnamese (that's right: Andersonville and Uptown), two completely different parts of my life now converging around my apartment. When I step off the El in the evenings I am immediately assaulted by spicy scents of beef and basil, and I remember walking down the Ave in dreary Seattle rain, searching for a Pho place with the correct combination of free cream puffs and sweet chrysanthemum tea. I have never, to my knowledge, been able to consume an entire bowl of Pho by myself, but on days when I want to eat light - when I see water everywhere and solid food seems like a virtual impossibility, as in the Seattle springtime - it is all that I crave.

Conversely, the perfect Swedish breakfast I had on Monday reminds me (and this is cheating, I know) of the street fair hunger of Decorah, IA's Nordic Fest. I remember burly men smelting iron, women in postcard-perfect smocks at a weaving loom (or...is that a false memory? Well, those women were doing something wholesome), and most of all I remember the Lefse and the meatball sandwiches.

Both foods, and both memories, make me feel nostalgic, pensive, and connected to my past. It's a feeling that can be achieved through food, stray scents, and good art (and also, I suppose, by a fluke of emotion, but that's not really relevant here...), and I hope that ol' Wes is up to the challenge. It's a tall order, I know, but come on: movies cost at least nine bucks these days. He owes me.







** Image credits: "Je vous chercher" came originally (I think) from PostSecret. The "Nordic Fest Poster" is by Robin Peterson of Fernwood Studios.