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In which Bwog newbie Thomas Rhiel ascends to the height of filmmaker fandom.

Critics seem to have lost much of their patience with Wes Anderson (He's elitist! Self-important! Maybe even racist!), but I admit it: I can't get enough. I want my characters quirky, forlorn, and constantly smoking. I want my frames symmetrical and colorful, crammed with eclectic knick-knacks and Futura Bold. I want quick pans and quicker zooms. Another slow-motion sequence set to a catchy pop tune? Yes, please, make me feel it.

So it was with a great deal of excitement that I set out on each of the following adventures, journeys into that fantastical realm of child prodigies, jaguar sharks, and Bill Murray. Tragically, each experience left me feeling emptier than the last.

One: On Tuesday night, the SoHo Apple store screened the premiere of Anderson's Hotel Chevalier, a 13-minute prelude to his latest feature film, The Darjeeling Limited. Jason Schwartzman, Natalie Portman, and Anderson himself were scheduled to be there, and would take questions from the audience after the film. I arrived an hour early, which, considering the event's scant publicity, I expected to be safe, maybe even worth a seat near the front. Instead, turning onto Prince St., I was confronted by a mob of fellow fans lined up against the Apple building and around the corner, many perched in folding chairs, some playing board games. Disheartened but not giving up, I trudged to the end of the line, where, after 30 minutes, an Apple employee kindly informed my neighbors and I that we should give up.