The Grand Budapest Hotel [Marathon Review]

“To him who has often told the tales of others, many tales will be told.”

            In Wes Anderson’s most recent film, the auteur finally best himself after the phenomenal Rushmore. The Grand Budapest Hotel is the second Wes Anderson film I watched in theaters, and after exiting the theaters with my brothers, I was the only one who was continually mentioning how spectacular the film was hours after we had watched it. Every single element of this masterpiece is far more than satisfying, and Anderson exceeds all expectations. It is both an absolutely epic film, and an incredible experience.

            Wes Anderson’s style reaches its highest, most developed point in his career here. Every individual shot is delicately engineered and brilliantly executed. I have come to the conclusion that this film is indeed, more detailed than Fantastic Mr. Fox, and each shot is packed to the brim with Wesiness, and more symmetry and lateral whip-pans are present than ever before. The film demonstrates massive blocking, overwhelming choreography, and an intensely beautiful color scheme. The three aspect rations that the film sports, used for its three separate time periods show how much control Wes has over this particular film. He also uses the 3:4 ratio like no one has before. After Moonrise Kingdom’s brief foray into relative normality, Wes Anderson has returned to his quick witted, creative self.

            Wes Anderson makes references here to his other films. He has several shots on trains, and the setup of those shots may remind one of The Darjeeling Limited. He uses shots on motorcycles in the same fashion as he did in Fantastic Mr. Fox, with one characters head poking out from behind the driver. In addition, he uses several miniatures in the film, brilliantly and beautifully. The Grand Budapest Hotel is also Wes Anderson’s most violent and suspenseful film yet. Several characters are brutally murdered. One is beheaded, fingers are chopped off, and in the climax of the film there’s a gigantic shootout.

            Add to all of this, the score. Alexandre Desplat’s third soundtrack for Wes Anderson is without a doubt his best yet. It is magnificently energetic, adding just the right tone to each and every scene, at least those touches that Wes could not provide himself. The score works on several themes, most of which are very fast. They’re used exceptionally well in the film, most notably in a chase scene and the climax. The film has an odd lack of any compiled soundtrack, but Desplat compensates for that with ease, causing the film to feel even more original.

            The cast is absolutely amazing. This is debatably the best he’s had yet. We are presented with an enormous number of cameos, and we have some rather large actors playing some rather miniscule roles. Among this crew is Owen Wilson, Bill Murray (of course), Bob Balaban, Wallace Wolodarsky, and Waris Ahluwalia. All of those actors have had a role in at least one of Anderson’s previous films. Some of the children from Moonrise Kingdom even make appearances. The main cast is also superb. Ralph Fiennes is extraordinary, and says every line with grace and candor, in the precise and delicate way they should be said. Tony Revolori displays a similar expertise, and will likely be returning in future Anderson movies. Willem Dafoe expertly plays a chilling assassin, known professionally as a ‘private inquiry agent’. Oscar-winning actress Tilda Swinton is hardly recognizable in pounds of makeup, as the dowager countess Madame Celine Villeneuve Desgoffe und Taxis. And Adrien Brody plays a wildly cursing, temperamental and money-driven count with murderous intentions.

            This story is filled with many moving parts and highly influential characters. All the characters have different intentions, which makes the plot all the more exciting and suspenseful. A.J. Henckels is trying to enforce the law, but has a friendship with Gustave H., the very man he’s trying to capture. Dmitri, the son of Madame D., is working only for selfish gains and seems willing to cut down anyone in his path (at least via J.G. Jopling, the murderer). And Agatha, Zero’s beloved fiancé, has a devotion to Zero of course, but also wishes to remain morally right, as she states, “I don’t trade in stolen property.”

            Oddly very few relationships are explored, but are instead rooted in the past and offscreen events. Among these sorts of relationships are the relationship between Madame D. and Gustave H., the relationship between Henckels and Gustave H., and the relationship between Zero and Agatha. This gives much support to part of the focus of the film, the idea of storytelling. In storytelling, not all is revealed. We don’t know much about these relationships because either Zero doesn’t know, or he’s not willing to speak of it (as is the case with his relationship with Agatha). The one truly supported relationship in the story is of course the one we should know well and the one Zero would reminisce about most: his relationship with the concierge, Gustave H., who instead of remaining his employer, becomes a true friend, and a sort of brother.

            Wes Anderson defines the word auteur in almost all of his films, but especially in this one. Composed of many exciting and grand scenes, this film is a captivating, fun journey. Everything visual, from the decoration of all of the locations (especially the Grand Budapest), to the elaborate and eye-catching wardrobe is beautiful, and demonstrates great control from Wes Anderson. The Grand Budapest Hotel examines the beauty of storytelling with its story within a story within a story.