The Grand Budapest Hotel
A delightfully demented tale of murder, theft and the service industry
As the concierge of The Grand Budapest Hotel, M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes: The Invisible Woman) believes in offering his guests the best service. In the case of wealthy older women, Gustave’s services include wine, candlelight dinners and himself. The women get a boost in confidence; Gustave gets cash and returning customers.
Among the hotel staff, Gustave is a legend. Suave, mysterious and unflappable, he runs the hotel with an uncompromising commitment to its patrons. He recites romantic poetry at staff dinners, insists on high standards of conduct for his subordinates, bathes in his favorite cologne and is involved in even the minute details of daily life at the Grand Budapest. This dashing figure enchants Zero (Tony Revolori: Shameless), the hotel’s newest lobby boy. Never one to turn down a fawning admirer, Gustave takes Zero under his wing.
When one of Gustave’s regular paramours, octogenarian Duchess, drops dead, Gustave and Zero travel to the funeral to pay respects. Hoping for a few thousand dollars from the will, Gustave instead is awarded a priceless painting. Her family is not pleased.
Police are called, accusations are thrown and the Duchess is eventually discovered to have been poisoned. Son Dmitri (Adrien Brody: Third Person) frames Gustave and sends his henchman (Willem Dafoe: Out of the Furnace) for the painting.
The Grand Budapest Hotel is a madcap comedy fusing dark violent themes with light quirky sensibilities. In director Wes Anderson’s (Moonrise Kingdom) quirky aesthetic, characters are notoriously nonplussed by the whirlwind of crazy events around them. A severed head is usually a gruesome sight. Put that head in a wicker picnic basket with a ribbon and some festive tissue paper, as Anderson does, and it becomes a macabre joke. Anderson’s sensibility isn’t for everyone, but his world of stylish lunacy is a refreshing change from typical fare.
As the center of the film’s twisting narrative, Fiennes is a wonder to behold. Dapper even in prison rags and suave to a fault, he’s the Cary Grant of concierges. His manic energy is fascinating as he wrings every bit of charm out of a role that makes him a lecherous jerk.
Supporting Fiennes is Anderson’s typical cast of character actors, including Bill Murray, Edward Norton, Jason Schwartzman and Adrian Brody. In small parts, each contributes to the controlled chaos. The standout is Dafoe, who manages to be utterly terrifying and hilarious as he murders his way through the movie.
Funny, slightly gruesome but always entertaining, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a decadent treat.