I think it’s impossible for Wes Anderson to make a movie I won’t like. I have been completely on his wavelength with his quirky sense of humor ever since I saw his second movie, Rushmore. My affinity for his work has only grown since then, though I think I’m generally considered odd for thinking his best movie is The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou.
Though each of Anderson’s previous seven films are all winners in my book, ever since Life Aquatic I have suspected that Anderson has increasingly reveled in his unique visual and narrative flair. Whereas his earliest films were just slightly offbeat, now there is such a distinct Anderson style that Saturday Night Live did a pretty spot-on parody of his movies when Edward Norton recently hosted. Watching Anderson’s latest movie, The Grand Budapest Hotel, was a lot like watching that SNL skit, because there is a lot about the film that makes it seem like Anderson is parodying his own style.
The Grand Budapest Hotel takes place in three distinct time periods (each shot in a different aspect ratio, which gives them all a different visual style). The main narrative is set in 1932 at the titular hotel in the fictional Eastern European country of Zubrowka (probably named after the Polish vodka, meaning hipsters will likely be making a run for it at local liquor stores all over Brooklyn) and focuses on M. Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), the cavalier concierge who efficiently runs the hotel with pride. Gustave’s only professional weakness is his penchant of sleeping with aging rich madams who frequent the hotel to enjoy his “service.” One of these women is Madam D. (an unrecognizable Tilda Swinton under layers of makeup), who dies shortly after a visit to the hotel to enjoy Gustave’s “company.”
Madam D.’s son Dmitri Desgoffe-und-Taxis (Adrien Brody) is enraged when he finds out that his mother left a very valuable painting to Gustave, and he soon creates an elaborate plot to discredit and disgrace the loyal concierge. What follows is a series of frequently hysterical scenarios that Gustave goes through in order to restore his reputation and claim the property he rightfully inherited. Meanwhile, the early rumblings of war that will soon consume all of Europe are stirring and soon Gustave is caught up in that mess, too.
All of this is told through the eyes of Zero Moustafa (Tony Revolori), a lobby boy in training at the Grand Budapest who becomes Gustave’s constant companion. Revolori is fresh-faced and wide-eyed, and his unfamiliar presence is effective in a movie filled with actors you already recognize from Anderson’s other films. It is also recounted by an aged Zero (F. Murray Abraham) in the 1960s to a noted writer played by Jude Law. To add another layer, an aged version of the writer (Tom Wilkinson) adds even more detail when reflecting about his 1960s stay in the hotel during the 1980s. In other words, in these 1980s scenes we have a writer recalling a story he heard in the 1960s told by someone who experienced it in the 1930s. There are more layers to this narrative than the delicious-looking pastries made at the Hotel’s bakery.
On one hand, one of the best features of The Grand Budapest Hotel is the seemingly endless parade of actors who are frequent collaborators of Anderson. In addition to Brody and Swinton, you will see Waris Ahluwalia, Bob Balban, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Harvey Keitel, Edward Norton, Jason Schwartzman, Owen Wilson and, of course, Bill Murray. Additionally, along with Abraham, Law, Revolori, and Wilkinson, Anderson newcomers include Mathieu Amalric, Saoirse Ronan, and Léa Seydoux. On the other hand, this parade becomes distracting since most of these actors have very limited screentime. In fact, despite that lengthy cast list of familiar faces, the narrative focuses almost entirely on Gustave. Fiennes is so good in the role that I’m shocked that he never worked with Anderson before and I would not be surprised if the two collaborated in the future. Speaking of self-parody, Fiennes really plays with his image of a gentleman while playing Gustave, who is such a cad it’s impossible to not enjoy watching him.
So if The Grand Budapest Hotel contains all of Anderson’s visual flair and a murder’s row of his collaborators, why wasn’t I more taken with it? I think The Grand Budapest was at times too silly for its own good. Anderson’s other films are filled with humor, but always with a level of poignancy that grounds the humor in real-life emotion. Though the films are quirky, the strong characters of Rushmore, The Royal Tenebaums, and Life Aquatic are equally as distinctive. Because The Grand Budapest Hotel has so many significant characters packed in its 99 minute runtime, Anderson really doesn’t give much of them any depth beyond their caricatured characteristics and unique visual appearances. For example, Brody’s character seems to be defined by his excessive cursing, which doesn’t seem to indicate much thought was put into making him a distinct character.
Since the characters in the film are more one-dimensional that Anderson’s typical film characters, a lot rests on the film’s visuals. Of course, Anderson and cinematographer Robert Yeoman (who has filmed all of Anderson’s movies except the animated Fantastic Mr. Fox) have created a strikingly gorgeous movie. The hotel sets are mostly highlighted by primary colors that work well with the simple designs. Every prop and costume adds to this gorgeous palette, all of which recalls the “golden age” of luxury hotels that has long been gone.
In fact, this might be the most visually beautiful film Anderson has ever made. So in my estimation The Grand Budapest Hotel pairs Anderson’s most beautiful visuals with his most muddled story. This is the first screenplay Anderson has ever written on his own, and though his friend Hugo Guinness (who painted Eli Cash’s paintings in The Royal Tenebaums) receives a co-“story by” credit I think it’s probably for the best that Anderson goes back to co-writing screenplays with his collaborators. It could probably help restore the balance that The Grand Budapest Hotel is missing, because while I love each of Anderson’s previous seven films, this is the only one I just liked.
Rating: While visually stunning, the narrative is too heavy on convoluted scenarios and caricatures (7.5/10).
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