The Grand Budapest Hotel is a delightful romp through war, crime and the life of a hotelier. We begin in the hotel in the 1980s, having long been on the downturn and serving only a few, semi-permanent guests. An author who is staying at the hotel finds himself in the company of the hotel's owner one night, as he proceeds to tell the story of how the Grand Budapest fell into his hands.
At which point everything dissolves into a pastel-colour scene of French fancy houses and icing-sugar architecture. The first shot of the hotel, in fact, gives us the the bizarre mountain-climbing contraption which resembles a part-train, part-shed thing which climbs steep diagonal mountains along one rail. This stop-motion animation which begins the real story sets Wes Anderson apart from other filmmakers, the rough-and-ready feel of the films combined with the epic feel of the stories making it a unique experience.
From a purely cinematic point of view it's a beautiful film; I recently saw a video showing Wes Anderson's love of symmetry and it's used to great effect in The Grand Budapest Hotel. At times it overwhelms the actual story, but it's only part of the beautiful tapestry which spans the whole movie. From the beautiful settings of M. Gustave's hotel to the stately homes of the Desgoffe-und-Taxis (Desgoffe-und-Taxises? Desgoffe-und-Taxis's? I dunno), everything is crafted in Anderson's wonderful, fairy-tale style and the architecture of the place - from the beautifully symmetrical Budapest Hotel to the understreets of Zubrowka, where subdued serial killer Jopling does his dirty work, everything is shades of wonderful colour or dark and foreboding. It's a wonderful contrast, especially towards the end when they must sled down a mountain in pursuit of black-clad Jopling.
The story is one of simplicity, and told so ingeniously. It revolves around the MacGuffin "Boy with Apple", a priceless painting owned by one of Gustave's many aged lovers; when she dies, she bequeaths it to M. Gustave, to the fury of her sons. What follows is a clever little "clear my name" tale, in which Gustave is suspected of murdering her; imprisoned, and with no hope of proving his innocence before Jopling murders his only lead (the Desgoffe-und-Taxis' butler, mysteriously disappeared along with an important document in the deceased's will), he enlists the help of his new lobby boy-in-training, Zero, and his fiancée Agatha to help break him out and find the butler - and the document - before he is rearrested and his only hope is murdered.
The characters really bring everything together - watch especially during the prison scenes, which has a surprising array of interesting characters and where Harvey Keitel makes a guest appearance - Dmitri is a standard evil villain, and entirely inept to boot (watch for the scene where he pulls a gun in the middle of a building filled with soldiers), but he is more of a side character to the murderous tendencies of Willem DaFoe's Jopling, whose stand-out scenes include a brilliant mountainside confrontation, and an eerie museum scene which mainly shows shots of his feet. And he still manages to be chillingly evil. But through it all we have Ralph Fiennes as the enigmatic, charismatic M. Gustave, who manages to be at once childishly selfish and captivatingly heroic in the same moment. The film is carried on his back, but Tony Revolori's Zero is a strong support along the way, since we see the world through his eyes and his retelling of the whole caper. Throughout it all he shows his own heroic nature, which leads to the calm, confident M. Moustafa we see bookending the movie. And of course, it is really his story, the story of how he came to find his love in Agatha (portrayed endearingly and adventurously by Saoirse Ronan - she gets some stand-out scenes towards the end) and how he came to own the Grand Budapest Hotel. But M. Gustave is the linchpin which holds everything together, the device which sets off the story and around which it revolves until the end. And what an end it is.
Wes Anderson is a name to remember - his movies are a wonder of cinema, full of life and light and yet remarkable for telling an intriguing tale with amazing characters. They seem to zip through stories at a rip-roaring pace, but never feeling the need to entrench the audience in heavy exposition, rather relying on the unfolding narrative to take care of itself and let the characters act through it. Indeed, the major players of the entire plot seem to be barely able to keep up with it as it runs along at its merry pace - The Grand Budapest Hotel never feels like a slog, never drags, it just compels you ever onwards towards the dramatic and endearing end. It's filled with heartwarming characters who seem totally genuine, and despite the cutsie backdrop to many scenes there are undertones of realism as we catch glimpses of war - Zero mentions having to escape his own country due to similar events - which blend so well with the rest of the movie. I have some criticism to make: even for a crime thriller villain Dmitri is offscreen far too long, and Anderson's uncluttered style - filling the scene with vast amounts of empty space, which helps in part with the symmetry - sometimes feels like it goes a little too far, leaving a gaping chasm of space between everything. But I could niggle at it all day and pick at the cracks as much as I like; it doesn't stop it being one of the most wonderful films so far this year, and one of my favourites by far.
If you're into Jeunet or Monty Python I'd recommend watching it.
Adieu!
No comments:
Post a Comment