So we've come to the final night of the London Film Festival. We've seen plenty of films, we've seen the sights of London, and we've negotiated with the army of PR people who co-ordinated the festival events. It's been good.

As promised, the festival came to a close with The Darjeeling Limited, Wes Anderson's new release which is co-written by Jason Schwartzman and Roman Coppola. Yes, one of the Coppolas. And yes, the closing night gala was packed to the rafters. However, I did catch up with a screener earlier in the day.

Firstly, I have to admit something before discussing The Darjeeling Limited. I have never liked a Wes Anderson film. Rushmore felt like Napoleon Dynamite without the jokes whilst The Royal Tenenbaums seemed like an overcast, emotionally frigid mess. At the same time as being completely detached from reality they just weren't very funny.

The Darjeeling Limited follows in a similar vein to the Tenenbaums, following three mismatched brothers who have not spoken for a year and are on a mission to bond with one another on a train ride across India. The film features former Tenenbaums Owen Wilson, Anjelica Houston, and in a brief cameo, Bill Murray, and Adrian Brody and writer, Jason Schwartzman, play Wilson's younger brothers.

Hotel Chevalier, the first act of The Darjeeling Limited, which is opaquely referenced in the film, has oddly been packaged independently of the main title meaning that most audiences won't be able to see it. The London premiere was preceded by the curious short, featuring Natalie Portman with Schwartzman in a scene prior to the events of the film.

Whilst the film is sure to attract the acclaim of Anderson's previous work, I managed to find it just as uninvolving and wryly unamusing as anything else he has done. Despite being emotionally disconnected, the low value the film placed on Indian lives felt actively, if unthinkingly, unpleasant. In short, I was unimpressed. In my book, you could have done much better by getting over to the Southbank for another screening of the quietly impressive The English Surgeon.

So, that's it. With the end of the festival, my days of dashing across Soho between interviews and screenings are going to have to slow down a bit. It's going to be strange not to be able to wander into the NFT and ask for a handful of tickets. Of course, life goes on.

Until next year that is, when the circus comes back to town and it happens all over again.