A time capsule you'll both regret and not regret

Rating: 10/10 (8 May 2019)

The Grand Budapest Hotel is like fantasy, adventure, visual art, and a bowl of chicken noodle soup all distilled into one rollercoaster of an experience that leaves you with the feeling of waking up from a dream you wish you could return to. Wes Anderson is known for his cinematography and quirky stories, and whether you've been a Wes Anderson fan for years, or you're new to his work, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a solid pick.
The plot of the film revolves around Gustav H. (Ralph Fiennes), the head concierge at a very high-class hotel in the 1930's. The story is told from the perspective of Zero (Tony Revolori), a young refugee that is hired by Gustav as a lobby boy. After an elderly guest of the hotel meets her untimely demise, she wills a priceless painting to Gustav. Then begins a whirlwind of drama between the children of the women led by her son Dmitri (Adrien Brody), Gustav, and Zero as they try to track down a secret will and try to avoid being murdered by Dmitri's hired thug.
The story is exceptional, and a blast to watch unfurl for every second of the 110-minute runtime, but what makes The Grand Budapest Hotel truly unique amongst a sea of delightful and satisfying films is its cinematography. Many of the wide-angle shots in the movie, believe it or not, were created using sets built with miniature models, and then stylized further in post-editing. This type of set design and cinematography gives The Grand Budapest Hotel a truly exclusive feeling of warmth and surrealism.
When you put all the elements of the film together, though, it left me with a profound feeling of loss. It was a strange feeling to have after watching what had chiseled its way into my top three favorite movies of all time. A feeling like I may never again enjoy a movie like the one's which credits I was seeing scroll by. Then it hit me, while the shots were beautiful, the comedy sharp, and the PG-13 action was top notch, the whole story was really a story of loss.
The loss of a different time, further described by the opening shot in which a girl brings a book to a statue, in an obviously muted world. Then that statue is revealed to be an author, who wrote the story of Zero. These separate layers of storytelling ingrain the feeling that while you, the viewer, are experiencing the grandeur of Gustav H., its beauty, class, and wonder is firmly in the past, never to be experienced firsthand again. I felt the loss most painfully when the author was speaking to Zero in the time-scorched Grand Budapest that I'd learned to love, and listening to him regale losing Agatha, and losing Gustav. It was then, that I felt the true loss that The Grand Budapest is portraying.
A quote from Gustav, "You see, there are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity.". Through the movie we come to know that Gustav represents this faint glimmer, and then we are forced to realized that faint glimmer that makes up every one of the many warm feelings stirred when watching the film, went out along with him. That made me feel a loss that I will carry with me for some time.