The Rat Catcher: Ralph Fiennes’ Obsession Is Chillingly Hypnotic

The first shot of The Rat Catcher (2023) lingers on Ralph Fiennes’ face, half-lit by a flickering lantern as he narrates his tale to an enthralled audience. His eyes glint with something between madness and method, and from this moment, Wes Anderson’s short film is less about rats than it is about obsession—how it warps, how it defines, how it ultimately consumes. This is the third installment in Anderson’s Roald Dahl anthology series, following The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (2023), and while it shares the same meticulous visual style, it dives deeper into the macabre.

Fiennes plays the Rat Man, a rat catcher who has spent so much time hunting his prey that he’s become something rat-like himself. His performance is the film’s anchor—eccentric yet eerily convincing. Fiennes delivers Dahl’s dialogue with a theatrical flair, leaning into the absurdity of the premise while grounding it in something unsettlingly real. He oscillates between manic energy and quiet intensity, making the Rat Man both fascinating and repulsive. It’s a role that demands physicality as much as vocal inflection, and Fiennes commits fully to the transformation. His hunched posture, twitchy movements, and piercing gaze all contribute to an unsettling portrayal of a man who has lost himself in his work.

The supporting cast—Richard Ayoade as the reporter and Rupert Friend as the mechanic—are less memorable but serve their purpose effectively. Their roles are minimal, functioning primarily as passive observers to the Rat Man’s monologue. Ayoade brings a dry wit that complements Anderson’s deadpan humor, while Friend exudes a quiet curiosity that keeps the audience engaged. However, neither performance leaves much of an impression beyond their surface-level charm.

Anderson’s direction is, as always, a masterclass in composition. The film’s 17-minute runtime is packed with shots that feel like still-life paintings—symmetrical frames, pastel hues, and an almost clinical precision in every movement. The village setting is rendered in soft-focus beauty, contrasting sharply with the grotesque imagery of rats and traps. Anderson’s signature style is on full display here, from the meticulously arranged compositions to the playful use of color. The cinematography is deliberate, each shot lingering just a second too long to be comfortable, reinforcing the film’s themes of fixation and decay.

The film’s narrative structure is simple but effective. In an English village, a reporter and a mechanic listen to the Rat Man explain his clever plan to outwit his prey. Garage owner Claud has a rat problem, and the Rat Man offers his services. The story unfolds through a series of flashbacks and anecdotes, all delivered with the Rat Man’s distinctive brand of eccentricity. While the plot is straightforward, it’s the execution that sets The Rat Catcher apart. Anderson uses the limited runtime to create a sense of unease, building tension through visual storytelling rather than explicit action.

One of the film’s standout moments is a sequence where the Rat Man describes his plan to gain the rats’ trust. The shot transitions from a close-up of Fiennes’ face to a wide-angle view of the village, the camera panning slowly across the landscape as the Rat Man’s voice-over continues. This visual technique not only emphasizes the scope of the Rat Man’s obsession but also underscores the film’s themes of isolation and transformation. The use of sound is equally noteworthy—Anderson employs a minimalistic score that heightens the tension without overpowering the dialogue.

However, where The Rat Catcher excels visually, it stumbles narratively. The story is simple—a rat catcher explains his clever plan to outwit rats—but it lacks the emotional weight of Dahl’s other adaptations. While Anderson’s previous short, Henry Sugar, balanced whimsy with deeper themes of redemption and transformation, The Rat Catcher feels more like a stylized fable than a fully realized story. The brevity of the format limits character development, leaving the audience to engage primarily with Fiennes’ performance rather than any deeper narrative arc.

The film’s tone is another point of contention. Anderson aims for a darkly whimsical atmosphere, blending humor and horror in a way that feels more playful than sinister. However, the macabre elements—rats as symbols of disease and decay—are underutilized. The contrast between the film’s visual beauty and its lack of emotional resonance creates a disjointed experience. It’s a film that demands to be admired but doesn’t always compel you to care.

Comparing The Rat Catcher to Anderson’s other works, it fits squarely within his oeuvre—visually striking, thematically layered, but ultimately more concerned with style than substance. Fans of Anderson’s previous films will find much to appreciate here: the precise framing, the deadpan humor, and Fiennes’ captivating performance. However, those looking for a deeper narrative or emotional engagement may leave feeling underwhelmed.

The film’s originality lies in its interpretation of Dahl’s source material. Anderson takes a straightforward tale and infuses it with his signature aesthetic, creating something that feels both familiar and fresh. Yet, this originality is also its downfall. The film’s reliance on visual style over storytelling means that it doesn’t fully stand on its own. It works best as part of the larger anthology, where its strengths are amplified by the context of the other shorts.

In terms of genre fit, The Rat Catcher aligns well with Anderson’s previous work but struggles to carve out a unique identity within the comedy genre. While it contains elements of dark humor and whimsy, it lacks the comedic pacing and timing that define traditional comedies. Instead, it leans heavily into its visual style and thematic depth, making it more of an art-house short than a mainstream comedy.

Ultimately, The Rat Catcher is a beautifully crafted but ultimately shallow experience. Fiennes’ performance and Anderson’s direction make it worth watching, but it lacks the emotional depth or narrative cohesion to leave a lasting impression. It’s a film that will appeal primarily to Anderson’s existing fanbase, offering them another dose of his distinctive style and visual flair.