If you like Wes Anderson’s films, and you probably do, do you ever wonder if the reasons you like them aren’t quite the reasons you profess? He’s widely accepted as a master of aggressive whimsy, of believably awkward intimacy, and of the soundtrack, period. But what about the less comfortable moments, the moments of jarring violence? What about Royal Tenenbaum’s stabbing in ‘The Royal Tenenbaums‘? What about Max Fischer’s pummeling in ‘Rushmore‘? And what about M. Gustave’s rough treatment in ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel‘? Is it possible that what keeps you coming back to this director’s films is not the combination of humor and tenderness and charm, but the fact that here might be another ingredient in the stew, one that, if you’re not careful, might choke you? Dávid Velenczei’s wide-awake supercut raises this question eloquently and with great vivacity. If you’ve asked yourself this question before, no reason not to watch: it’s a question that can be turned over more than once without risk of diminishing it.