THE FIZZIEST AND MOST UNABASHEDLY erudite reason to head back to the movies this month is, sans doute, The French Dispatch, Wes Anderson’s paean to the midcentury heyday of a certain weekly magazine that has never been headquartered in France. And yet Anderson’s The New Yorker–like creation, edited by one Arthur Howitzer Jr. (played with winking gravitas by Bill Murray), establishes offices in the fictional town of Ennui-sur-Blasé and employs a masthead of American journalists. The French Dispatch is loaded with stars (Owen Wilson, Benicio Del Toro, Tilda Swinton, Léa Seydoux, Timothée Chalamet, and Frances McDormand to name a few), amusements, Gallic flair, and the kind of precise, filigreed compositions that this singular filmmaker has perfected over his idiosyncratic career. An ode to publishing, romance, politics, food, and so much…