In the vast theater of art and performance, where the brilliant and the mediocre often cross paths, 'The Afterparty's' episode titled 'Hannah' dares to stride with audacity. Yet, instead of a refreshing promenade, one is involuntarily ushered down the well-trodden corridors of Wes Anderson's genius. To mimic the maestro is one thing; to make a pastiche so glaringly reminiscent, quite another. It is as if one beholds a peacock, expecting it to unveil a dance of original colours, only to find borrowed feathers from another's plume. I dare say, flattery is a delicate art, but there are venues and verses where it might not befit. Had Mr. Anderson himself been entrusted with the task of orchestrating this episode, we would have been regaled with the authentic notes of his symphony. Alas, we are left with but a distant echo, a reminder of what could have been.