The Grand Budapest Hotel, 2014.
Directed by Wes Anderson.
Starring Ralph Fiennes, F. Murray Abraham, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Tilda Swinton, Harvey Keitel, Jude Law, Bill Murray, Edward Norton, Saoirse Ronan, Jason Schwartzman, Tom Wilkinson, Owen Wilson, and Tony Revolori.
SYNOPSIS:
A layered retelling of the misadventures of the hotel’s flamboyant former concierge and his trusty lobby boy.
Wes Anderson’s latest voyage into quirkiness is perhaps his most star-studded outing yet, with cameos from what you feel must be his entire address book. However, despite filling nearly every role with a recognisable face, it is the two central characters (and the relationship between them) that remains The Grand Budapest Hotel’s greatest asset.
The film starts off with a narrative structure similar to a set Russian Babushka Dolls: it turns out that the main plot is actually being told and retold by four different framing devices, set at four different times. This story-within-a-story approach just about works, but it is still nice when we finally get into the meat of the plot. The central story follows the hotel’s eccentric concierge, Mr. M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes), as he is wrongly accused of murder. What follows is vintage Anderson: wacky, episodic and wonderful.
While the story is equal parts inventive and enjoyable, Anderson’s real achievement here is the creation of Gustave himself. The director has already said that he wrote the role specifically for Fiennes, which to be honest shows remarkable foresight; if someone had described the character to me beforehand, I’d never have considered it a ‘Ralph Fiennes role’.
The role is beautifully written, but the performance is another thing entirely. In fact, I feel a bold, sweeping statement coming on; the type of statement that usually brings down droves of comment-box vengeance down upon me. However, I’ve thought about it, measured it and am willing stand by it for the rest of my days. Here it comes:
The Grand Budapest Hotel is my favourite Ralph Fiennes performance… ever.
As Gustave, Fiennes is on sublime, sparkling, incandescent form. He’s camp, he’s witty, he plays fast and loose with obscenities, but above all else it’s a performance filled to the brim with the most endearing genuineness. He’s one of Anderson’s most colourful characters to date (which is really saying something), but beneath all that eccentricity he’s got the most relentlessly likable sincerity. I think it speaks volumes that, in a film where even the extras are household names, you simply can’t take your eyes off Fiennes.
That being said, this is far from a one-man show. All the supporting players deliver their characters brilliantly in the short screen-time they have. Adrian Brody proves to be a perfectly hiss-able villain (there’s even a hint of a moustache-twiddle in one scene), while Willem Dafoe brings his custom-made creepiness to a dishevelled hit-man. There’s also a stunning introductory role for young Tony Revolori, playing Gustave’s Lobby Boy/Sidekick, Zero.
The Grand Budapest Hotel is a cinematic joy. True, it lacks some the charismatic melancholia of some Anderson’s best films, but it makes up for that fact with razor-sharp wit and immaculate storytelling. It’s as aesthetically pleasing as any of the director’s back-catalogue, has as a mesmerizing turn from Ralph Fiennes at its core. It’s Wes Anderson’s funniest film to date, and his most enjoyable in years.
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Jackson Ball – follow me on Twitter.
