WORDS Peter Mahafferty

Wes Anderson may just be the most distinctive filmmaker alive, and The Grand Budapest Hotel may just be his most delightful film to date. Drawing inspiration from film director Ernst Lubitsch and novelist Stefan Zweig, Anderson’s new film follows concierge, M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) and his lobby boy, Zero (Tony Revolori), as they fight for what is rightfully theirs: a painting bequeathed to them by the late Madame D (Tilda Swinton). Events are relayed through several narrative frames. An unnamed girl reads a book written by an unnamed author (who is played by Tom Wilkinson and Jude Law at different ages) as he listens to a story told by an older Zero (F Murray Abraham) about his adventures and misadventures as a young lobby boy. Anderson establishes the different time periods by use of different aspect ratios, the main one being the classic Academy ratio. Anderson masterfully assembles his largest all-star cast to date in this mad, mad, mad, mad movie.

But enough about the plot.  Although this may be Anderson’s most complex storyline, he treats the plot as a device to develop his characters. Beneath the surface of the film is an interesting look at facets of the European mindset. The relationship between Zero and Gustave serves as a comic, and sometimes melancholy, allegory of race relations between native Europeans and Middle Eastern immigrants. While looking forward towards progress, the film also looks back (literally) and basks in nostalgia. The 1932 version of the Hotel is grand and marvelous, juxtaposed with the dreariness of the same building in the 1960s. The nostalgia, as well as the tone of the film, is bittersweet.

The most striking element of The Grand Budapest Hotel is its visual style, which is reminiscent of Fantastic Mr. Fox and The Life Aquatic. Anderson does not strive for any sort of aesthetic realism. Every scene takes place unmistakably on a set — prisons, bakeries, and grand hotels alike. The actors also speak in their native accents, rather than try to conform to the accents of their fictional country, Zubrowka, while the political factions going to war in the (not so distant) background are lampoons of the Communists and the Nazis. Much to his critics’ anguish, Wes Anderson establishes a new high for the level of artifice in his films.

Above all, though, the film is hilarious. It may be Anderson’s darkest, with visual and verbal jokes about dismemberment and violence, set against a typically whimsical Andersonian world. The film progresses without a downbeat. Anderson packs as much depth, comedy and intrigue as he possibly can into a period of only 100 minutes. Fiennes gives an excellent performance as the poetry-reciting, old woman-seducing Gustave H, and Tony Revolori makes a name for himself with his performance of Zero Mustafa. Adrien Brody and Willem Dafoe pull off the roles of the sinister antagonists, but just talking about them excludes the rest of the cast: Bill Murray, Bob Balaban, Lea Seydoux, Saoirse Ronan, Owen Wilson, Jude Law, Tom Wilkinson, Mathieu Amalric, Tilda Swinton, Jason Schwartzman, Edward Norton, Harvey Keitel, and Jeff Goldblum. The Grand Budapest Hotel is 100 minutes of guaranteed bittersweet delight, and is sure to please his fans but may still alienate his critics.

Grade: I