Guest Post : Movie Review : The Grand Budapest Hotel
I haven’t watched all of Wes Andersons cinematic creations. But having watched ‘The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou’, ‘The Darjeeling Limited’ and ‘Moonrise Kingdom’,the trailer for ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ kindled in me curiosity more than anticipation in watching it. Anticipation was always a given after ‘The Darjeeling Limited’ but the vision of Ralph Fiennes and the smorgasbord of A-list actors invoked in me a curiosity hitherto unfounded. The movie, in all certainty was not going to disappoint, threw bountiful surprises that made one smile, choke, burst out in guffaws but also lean back and contemplate. A movie that is personified in one of M.Gustave’s(more about him shortly) prolific utterances while explaining how humanity remains in humble(read stupendous) offerings of his esteemed establishment – a generous sentence of praise ending with ‘F**k it’.
It would be best to use a simile coined for a different
purpose in describing the movie – while appearing to be an oil landscape from
the 1920’s it actually presents itself as a secret wrapped in a mystery in the
jacket pocket of an enigma. Anderson shares story credits for it with Hugo
Guiness who both share credit with the author Stefan Zweig whose writings
inspired the story. The opening shot presents a young lady gazing at a seated
statue of the ‘Author’ (Tom Wilkinson) whose tome ‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’
she is reading. The book delves into a first person narrative of Tom Wilkinson as
a young ‘Author’ (Jude Law) who recounts a meeting with M.Moustafa(F Murray
Abraham), the proprietor of the titular hotel. Said hotel is of legendary
quality but like the statue of Ozymandias, crumbling to current ruin. Jude Laws
character having expressed curiosity as to why the owner of such opulence opts
to spend his time in a cubby hole within upon his yearly visit gets invited to
dinner with M.Moustafa. The dinner is designed to be the succulent main course
fed morsel by elaborately crafted morsel to satisfy both the Authors and our
curiosity pangs.
Clipped and short shots are used to introduce us to the
hotels days of splendor(do not miss the cable car, an indelible stamp of the
film) and to Zero(Tony Revolori), a bell boy under the wing and tutelage of the
glorious M.Gustave(Ralph Fiennes). While teaching Zero the intricacies of being
a bell boy i.e. the art of providing the guests at The Grand Budapest
everything they may need or want when they need or want it without even them
knowing they need or want it, M.Gustave shows himself to be the perpetual
didact enlightening us throughout the narrative, even preaching perhaps. To
characterize him as a refined but horny gigolo would not be mincing words.
Monsieur being the pinnacle of said character while remaining supremely classy
to the point of being a magnet to ladies of the rich and elderly variety, his
preferred clientele. Supporting characters appear in the form of Dimitri(Adrien
Brody in a deliciously evil role as the son of one of Monsieurs clients),
Jopling(a very scary Willem Dafoe, positively vampirish), Deputy Kovacs(no
matter what the period, dialogue or makeup Jeff Goldblum will be – pause for
effect and dainty shrug – Jeff Goldblum), Inspector Henckles(Ed Norton,
subtlety itself) and to spare the pleasurable tedium of putting character name
to actor – Aaron Sorkin, Mathieu Amalric, Lea Seydoux, Saoirse Ronan, Bill Murray and lest we
forget, Owen Wilson.
The Grand Budapest Hotel remains translucently etched in the
background of our vision while a set of almost bioscope-quality events run
through in the foreground. Ralph Fiennes in perhaps the performance of his
career so far shifts from being concierge generale to gigolo to favoured recipient
to a ‘straight’ fellow(a remark he decries sarcastically as never having been
accused of) to a friend in need to a benefactor. Watching him play these roles while maintaining
his demeanor of the refined but vulgar M.Gustave, full of finesse and
euphemism, double entendre and general swearing is a cinematic treat that should
not be missed.
It would be doing the film an injustice to delve into its
details or to attempt to summarize it. What can be done is accord to The Grand
Budapest Hotel every accolade it deserves. While being everything it already
is, the movie(and by implication Anderson) even manages to pull the subtle veil
of war into its crowded but never murky tapestry. Frantic yet still, refined
yet vulgar, subtle yet bombastic, The Grand Budapest Hotel thrills every
cinematic nerve we would expect to be tweaked while promising to come back and
tickle them just as M.Gustave would have.
5/5
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