Review: The Grand Budapest Hotel

BY BLUE KAUFMAN

The Grand Budapest Hotel is some kind of a weird masterpiece.  It’s visuals and dialogue collide with full force , intertwining effortlessly as the film builds toward a glorious crescendo. Most films today seem to be caught in a stupor, an endless haze of programmed formulas and routines. But The Grand Budapest Hotel defies these standards; it is hyper and alert, full of freedom and possibility.

Written and directed by Wes Anderson, the tale begins in a fictional town in Europe known as Zubrowka. We’re at the Grand Budapest Hotel, a decrepit building that has been ravaged by poverty and war. According to our narrator,  it had become “too decadent for modern taste”.  But it wasn’t always a deserted ruin.

Suddenly, its 1932 and we’re looking at the Grand Budapest at the peak of its existence; it’s a palace of pastels, encompassed by an aura of magnificent splendor. Frosted in pink and white, the hotel is the pride and joy of the town and Gustave H is its illustrious concierge. After learning that one of his dear friends has died, he takes Zero, the new lobby boy (Tony Revolori), with him to the reading of the will.  He comes to find that he has been left  Boy with Apple, a valuable painting that the family of the deceased had hoped to inherit. When Gustave is falsely accused for the murder of his friend, he steals the painting and flees with Zero.

This is the most conventional summary I could come up with to describe the film. However, as the story unspools, you see that the Grand Budapest Hotel is anything but conventional. Just when you think that you might have a grasp on what’s going on, the plot twists and swerves, leaping into a scenario that could never have been anticipated.  Each scene is artfully decorated with its own set of elaborate details, resulting in a polished finesse that is thoroughly irresistible.   A part of you will want it all to slow down, to make sense of the madness flashing on the screen. But then there’s another voice, a subversive murmur telling you to forget logic, to just lose yourself in the fun of it.

There’s a lot to love about the Grand Budapest Hotel, but the best part is arguably the cast and Anderson’s usual gang (Jason Schwartzman, Bill Murray, Adrian Brody, Harvey Keitel, and Edward Norton) all make impressive appearances. However in the end, Ralph Fiennes outshines them all with his portrayal of Gustave H. Always equipped with the perfect joke or compliment, his dry wit and popularity among elderly women make him instantly likable. For someone who’s used to playing roles such as Voldemort in the Harry Potter series or Aemon Goeth in Schindlers List, Fiennes proves his acting skills in a role that is both charming and charismatic.

Visually, it  is a dazzling spectacle. The Grand Budapest Hotel, put simply,  is just a beautifully shot film. Its cinematography is breathtaking and its color scheme is possibly only rivaled by Anderson’s previous film, Moonrise Kingdom. However, even the green and brown sepias that  stunned in MK now appear to be marginally insignificant,  dwarfed by the muted shades and deep purple hues that shine in The Grand Budapest’s  picturesque landscape.

Truth be told, this isn’t Andersons best film, not with Rushmore and The Royal Tennenbaums on his résumé. However, it may just be his most mature. While enormously eccentric and entertaining, Anderson also manages to puncture his movie with some truly emotional moments. The Grand Budapest Hotel truly is wonder to behold,  a rare piece of art that embodies the pure joy  of filmmaking .