THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL – The Review

For GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL, Wes Anderson’s reaches into that bag of tricks he always does, piling on the preciousness and eccentricities you’ve come to expect (or dread) from the fussy director but, thanks in part to his terrific script but mostly to a magnificent central character played by Ralph Fiennes, he pulls out his best film yet. Fiennes’ turn as Gustave, a Concierge at an Eastern Europe hotel in the 1930’s, is sure to have ‘em talking at next year’s awards season as will the film itself.

Like Anderson’s last film MOONRISE KINGDOM, THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL is a nostalgic look at a different era as well as a coming-of-age story. It centers upon the once-grand titular venue, perched on a mountaintop in the imaginary European country of Zubrowka. The story is narrated initially by the author of a book on the hotel (Tom Wilkinson then Jude Law in flashback) who recounts how he met the Budapest’s owner Mr Moustafa (F Murray Abraham as an old man and Tony Revolori as a young one), in the 1960s. Moustafa then takes over as narrator, flashing back again to the 1930’s when he was a young orphan being groomed as a lobby boy by the Grand Budapest’s concierge Gustave H. (Fiennes). Gustave runs a tight ship but finds time to sexually service the hotels elderly aristocratic female guests, including the wealthy Madame Desgoffe (Tilda Swinton, in old-age do). The plot’s set in motion when Madame D dies and Gustave is more concerned about acquiring her priceless Renaissance painting ‘The Boy and the Apple’ than the fact that he’s been framed for her murder.  Gustave and Zero are soon on the run from police led by Inspector (Edward Norton) as well as Madame D’s angry son Dmitri (Adrien Brody) and his savage black-clad toady Jopling (Willem Dafoe – a scene stealer made up to look like something out of a ‘40s poverty-row horror). Romance, chases, Marx Brothers-style gags and wacky subplots ensue. THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL soars during an extended prison sequence that climaxes in a breakout lead by a bald, tattooed Harvey Keitel. It’s all so funny but there is menace and sadness in THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL as well.  Sour ZigZag officers (modeled on Nazis) storm onto trains in a couple of scenes, demanding papers and foreshadowing the European conflicts to come, the hotel is shown in later decades as fallen into sad disrepair, and  a spontaneous (but cordial) gun battle shatters the serenity of the Budapest’s lobby.

Anderson keeps the story moving at a madcap pace and his script is packed with hilarious dialogue (“Did he just throw my cat out of the window?”). The film’s look is eye-popping thanks to Adam Stockhausen’s meticulous production design (the Budapest’s exteriors are played by a scale model that resembles a candy-colored wedding cake), and sounds unique due to Alexandre Desplat’s Cossacky score while Robert Yeoman’s cinematography basks in storybook mountainscapes and swift interior tracking shots that call to mind a cartoony speeded-up take on what Kubrick was doing at the Overlook. I expect all of these artists to nab Oscar noms for their work in THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL but the film’s greatest strength lies in the its characters and performances. Fiennes’ con man/gigolo Gustave is the most dimensional, larger than life, and fascinating lead Anderson has ever written. Alongside Jeff Bridges’ The Dude, or Peter Seller’s Dr. Strangelove, Gustave is one of cinema’s all-time great eccentrics (Sellers’ spirit is one Feinnes channels) and the wit and energy that Fiennes brings to the character is to be savored. The actor’s timing is note-perfect down to the last arched brow and host of vain and occasionally vulgar mannerisms. It’s early in the year but I think Fiennes, an actor new to the Anderson entourage, is also a shoo-in for an Oscar nom. Most of the other actors in the film (Norton, Brody, Keitel, Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Jason Schwartzman, Bob Balaban) have worked with Anderson before and they’re all in top form – especially Dafoe. Owen Wilson, Fisher Stevens, and Bill Murray play members of ‘The Society of the Crossed Keys’, a fraternity of hotel concierges that have each other’s backs, a concept I wish Anderson had done more with (and it’s the second film this year – after MONUMENTS MEN – to underuse the notoriously difficult-to-cast Murray).

I confess I went into THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL expecting to hate it. While I recognize Wes Anderson as one of the few true originals working in American cinema, I was never a huge fan and found his last film, MOONRISE KINGDOM a way too-cute, emotionally distant bore that just irritated me (I went as far as claiming it the worst film of 2012 in my review HERE, an assertion I stand by after attempting to watch it again). The trailer for this follow-up played like a parody of the worst of the director, but I call ‘em as I see ‘em, and though Anderson has refused to broaden his aesthetic, I was stunned how much I enjoyed checking into THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL. I look forward to seeing it again soon and recommend everyone do the same. You won’t want to check out!

5 of 5 Stars

THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL opens Friday, March 21st in St. Louis at (among other places) Landmark’s Tivoli Theater and Plaza Frontenac Theater