I continue to be torn on Anderson: I have big respect for his visual acumen and ability to create films that are so uniquely his own: the stage-like set dressing, the typography, the right-on, symmetrically organized dolly shots, the colours (oh man, the colours!), the typography. But the same self-conscious ironic detachment that defines his visual style means that I never care about any of his characters or stories. In fact, I kind of want to hate them. It's impossible…