‘The Grand Budapest Hotel’ Review
I’m always impressed when a film can win me over solely on its heart, style, and dedication to creating a world and tone. That’s not to say that The Grand Budapest Hotel lacks substance or depth; far from it. It has a compelling lead character and an engaging plot but in a film like this the style is the substance. Differing aspect ratios create a sense of time and place, miniatures and matte paintings build an emotional connection to certain locations, and shocking but controlled violence jolts you into a world where courtesy is failing in the face of barbarism. This should come as a shock to no one who is even vaguely familiar with Wes Anderson’s idiosyncratic style of filmmaking. Here he’s crafted a love letter to classic European cinema in a twisty comedy caper with shades of an Agatha Christie murder mystery.
The film opens with an anonymous young girl at the grave of a renowned Author (Tom Wilkinson). As she reads his memoir The Grand Budapest Hotel we jump backwards to 1985 where the Author recounts to a film crew his travel to said hotel in the fictional Republic of Zubrowka in 1968. His younger counterpart (Jude Law) takes over as narrator to tell us how he came across the owner of the dilapidated hotel, Zero Moustafa (a surprisingly gentle F. Murray Abraham). The elderly Zero sees hunger in the young writer’s eyes and decides to relate his tale of working at the hotel in his youth under the tutelage of its legendary concierge, Monsieur Gustave H (a spectacular Ralph Fiennes). We then shift to the meat of story in 1932 when the hotel was in its prime. The young Zero (played by newcomer Tony Revolori) is the new lobby boy and M. Gustave takes him under his wing and they become fast friends.
This nesting doll framing device could have the unintended side effect of diluting the story or confusing the audience but here it is masterfully handled. As I mentioned above the film uses varying aspect ratios for each time period. The more standard 1.85:1 that we’re used to seeing today is applied to the present and 1985, the wider 2.35:1 is used in 1968 to evoke a feeling of a huge but empty space, and finally in 1932 we get the classic 1.37:1 that reminds us of old Hollywood. This keeps the viewer on track and being a story within a story within a story creates a fantastical storybook atmosphere where anything could happen.
The main plot follows Gustave and Zero as they are caught up in the murder of Gustave’s rich, elderly lover, Madame D. (an unrecognizable Tilda Swinton). Shortly after she bequeaths the much-coveted painting “Boy with Apple” to Gustave he is framed for her murder and put in prison. While Zero tries to break him out and prove his innocence, Madame D.’s sinister son Dmitri (Adrien Brody) tries to reclaim the painting and have our heroes killed. Double-crossings, brutal murders, and a chase scene down the slope of a mountain ensue as the plot twists and turns its way through Anderson’s dry humor and quirky sense of mise-en-scene.
It’s a fine plot but it’s not what this type of film is about. Apart from all the aesthetics this film rests on Ralph Fiennes’ shoulders and he delivers in spectacular fashion. It’s a virtuoso performance that we haven’t seen in a Wes Anderson film since Gene Hackman in The Royal Tenenbaums. Effortlessly charming, possessing a flowery vocabulary and a taste for the finer things in life, M. Gustave is the spirit of this film and Ralph Fiennes lights up the screen with his charisma. He nails the clipped dialogue and his occasional outbursts of profanity give us some of the biggest laughs.
Based on the writings of Stefan Zweig, this film is distinctly European while unmistakably being a Wes Anderson film. He is able to conjure up the style of foreign films from the 30s while still getting to play with his favorite actors and symmetrical camera angles. The man definitely has his detractors and many of them will say this film is style over substance. While I agree that the style is part of the main draw the film has an underplayed theme of keeping the hope of a better world alive when things look bleak. The plot is set in the fragile time of peace between the two world wars. Tensions are high as WWII is creeping around the corner with brutish soldiers conducting random security checks at train stops. The film is peppered with bursts of shocking violence and M. Gustave serves as the shining light of graciousness in these dark times. It’s his dedication to keeping the hotel in peak condition and his relationship with Zero that serves as the emotional backbone of this film. This is why the framing device works so well: the spirit of Gustave and the hotel live on throughout the years in the Author’s book.
This is Anderson’s most stylized feature since The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and the production design is outstanding. His team must be given major props for capturing the extravagant mood with their charming miniatures and detailed background paintings. Each time period and location are assigned a distinct color palette. Bright pink and red represent the hotel in its prime whereas burnt oranges and yellows are used when it’s on its last legs, matching the dying leaves of autumn that surround it.
Many of Anderson’s regulars are on display here and they form a wonderful ensemble. He’s gone all out with a cast that aside from the above mentioned includes Jeff Goldblum, Willem Dafoe, Harvey Keitel, Edward Norton, Saoirse Ronan, Mathieu Amalric, Lea Seydoux, Bob Balaban, and of course it wouldn’t be a Wes Anderson movie without Bill Murray, Jason Schwartzman, and Owen Wilson. Even though this is a cast of actors with differing styles and nationalities they all blend together beautifully. No one is putting on a dialect; they’re all using their natural accents. On paper this may seem counterproductive to creating a period piece set in eastern Europe but the actors are all so committed to the tone and style of the era that it never distracts.
It doesn’t feel like Anderson is picking his favorite actors and randomly assigning them to certain roles; each of them fits their archetype like a glove. Goldblum’s signature dry delivery matches his lawyer Kovacs’ straightforward nature, Keitel’s pension for playing tough guys makes him a natural fit for gruff prisoner Ludwig, and Dafoe has a face made for playing villains like the murderous Jopling. It’s not easy to stand out when you’re paired with an actor as magnetic as Fiennes but Tony Revolori more than carries his own weight. His subdued delivery is perfect for Anderson’s world but it’s his wide-eyed sincerity and devotion to Gustave that gets us emotionally invested in this tale.
It amazes me how much Anderson has grown as a filmmaker. Many will claim that he hasn’t made any progression; that he must step outside his comfort zone and reinvent himself with every film. What’s most impressive to me is how he’s able to progress within that comfort zone and make his eccentricities work for him, telling a more complex story with each film. It’s hard to say where this will rank in his oeuvre as I don’t think he has one definitive masterpiece. What I can tell you is how much I love revisiting this film. It feels like a warm welcome to a place I haven’t visited in some time, much like the titular hotel itself.
★★★★★