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Cinematic Luxury … a film review of “The Grand Budapest Hotel” from Wes Anderson

by Phil Hogan…

It is hard to put into words the feast for the eyes that is writer/director Wes Anderson’s latest film “The Grand Budapest Hotel”. In the same way that his 2001 film “The Royal Tenenbaums” begins with a book within film framing device, this time around Anderson features at least three different timelines to establish the story of M. Gustave, who in 1932 was the concierge of the distinguished Grand Budapest Hotel in the fictional Eastern European country of Zubrowka. With a growing sense of fascism and war on the horizon, the hotel and its concierge offer an illusion to the real world and its troubles, “providing faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity,” as the main character so eloquently puts it.

M. Gustave is played to perfection by Ralph Fiennes. With his machine gun style delivery evocative of comedies made during that era (with the occasional expletive thrown in), he exhibits a genuine comedic flare and sympathetic charm that is not often seen in his other performances. Tony Revolori plays Zero, the lobby boy Fiennes takes under his wing during the calm before the storm. What soon follows in one of Anderson’s more plot heavy films is a case of murder, inheritance, the framing of an innocent man, and a prison break film all wrapped up into one.

Much like the dialogue delivery, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is very fast paced. We learn little about M. Gustave other than when not performing his role as concierge, he prefers poetry and solitude. A romance subplot between Zero and Agatha (played by Saoirse Ronan) feels slightly underdeveloped. In fact, because of the film’s 100 minute length, many members of the excellent cast are left with little to do. My favorites were Adrien Brody as the spoiled and arrogant son of Tilda Swinton, Willem Dafoe as the near silent hit man, and Edward Norton as the army inspector overseeing the investigation. With some of the actions of these characters and more, this is probably Anderson’s most violent film to date.

Other than those qualms, this is probably the most polished and aesthetically pleasing of all his films. If you are a fan of his style then there is much to like. Others should probably stay away. With matte paintings, miniatures and black & white photography, Anderson presents an old fashioned piece of art with an underlying sense of sadness. M. Gustave is trying to hold on to a way of life that is changing while the rest of Europe prepares for war. An older Zero (played brilliantly by F. Murray Abraham) laments near the end that M. Gustave had already missed the time period that he tried to emulate, “but he retained the illusion with remarkable grace.”

In his own way, Anderson does the same thing with “The Grand Budapest Hotel”. Creating his own unique fantasy world, he evokes nostalgia for time periods and filmmaking styles that were well before his own time, referencing everything from 1930s comedies to Alfred Hitchcock. And like the deliciously detailed desserts presented by Ronan’s character, he ties everything up in a beautiful cinematic bow.