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The Grand Budapest Hotel
| Released |
7 March 2014 |
| Director |
Wes Anderson |
Starring
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Ralph Fiennes, Tony Revolori, F. Murray Abraham, Mathieu Almaric, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Harvey Keitel, Jude Law, Bill Murray, Edward Norton, Saoirse Ronan, Jason Schwartzman, Léa Seydoux, Tilda Swinton, Tom Wilkinson, Owen Wilson |
| Writer(s) |
Wes Anderson |
Producer(s)
|
Wes Anderson, Jeremy Dawson, Steven M. Rales, Scott Rudin |
| Origin |
United Kingdom, Germany |
| Running Time |
99 minutes |
| Genre |
Comedy, drama |
| Rating |
15A |
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Ralph Fiennes has a habit of showing up in some very unlikely places. He is a very serious man with very serious ideas and yet he has the odd habit of taking a break from all that Shakespeare lark to make cameo appearances in projects like Nanny McPhee. Despite this penchant for holidaying in other people’s jollity, Fiennes and director Wes Anderson don’t exactly feel like a good fit with each other. It’s a delightful surprise then that in The Grand Budapest Hotel, Fiennes puts his lighter side front and centre, managing to be the best thing about Anderson’s latest romp.
The story begins in a large hotel that has long since seen its glory days pass away. Staying for the season is a struggling writer (Jude Law) who begins an acquaintance with the enigmatic owner of the hotel (F Murray Abraham). Over dinner, the owner recounts how his connection with the Grand Budapest began many years earlier, when the hotel was in its pomp and he was a young lobby boy (played by an exceptionally deadpan Tony Revolori) under the tutelage of the charismatic concierge M. Gustave (Fiennes). After a wealthy widow dies, leaving substantial gifts to M. Gustave, there follows a caper involving stolen paintings, prison breaks, war and a nasty case of feline homicide.
Few directors have as recognisable a style as Anderson and The Grand Budapest Hotel is no departure. The hotel, resplendent in pastel shades, is populated with quirkily designed characters. It’s not just the period setting that makes the film feel pleasingly old-fashioned; take away the Anderson flourishes and the bawdy humour and the plot could be lifted directly from an Ealing comedy. As the absurdities of the plot stack up, it all skips along in that same chaotic, gleeful manner. It is also wonderfully immature in its humour. When Gustave drops an F-bomb, the contrast between his refined manners and his ability to swear like a sailor is inherently funny. Like a charming but naughty child, the film is incorrigible. A lot of this praise needs to be laid directly at Fiennes feet - his wonderfully dry M. Gustave is a fantastic creation.
While beautiful to look at and impeccably crafted, the film is also genuinely funny and will delight anyone who enjoys Anderson. I would argue however that it doesn’t have the emotional heft that characterises his best work. Like the pastries featured in the film, The Grand Budapest Hotel is momentarily delicious but of no nutritional value in the long run.
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Linda O’Brien |
