Welcome to the Hotel Zubrowka

Rating: 6/10 (13 March 2014)

I'm one of about three people in the world who reckon The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou is Wes Anderson's best film, although 2012's Moonrise Kingdom was a return to form after the slightly drab Darjeeling Limited and the mixed bag that was Fantastic Mr Fox.
All of Anderson's films are mixed bags of confectionery. As he moves further from the relatively terrestrial charms of Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, the results are becoming more alien, and arguably less relatable. The Grand Budapest Hotel is beautiful, charming, and meticulous, but as icily cold as an Eastern European winter. The best Anderson films have a central relationship that provides a warm heart amidst the whimsy. Moonrise had first love. Aquatic had father and son. Budapest has hotelier and protégé, but I never got a sense of intimacy between them, only ego and awe respectively.
The hotelier is Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes) and the protégé is Zero Moustafa (Tony Revolori). When Gustave's dear friend and lover Madame D (Tilda Swinton) drops dead, distant relatives and vague friends convene (the first of many cameo-tastic scenes), hoping to get a chunk of the deceased's wealth. Gustave is bequeathed a hugely valuable painting, much to the chagrin of the gathered mourners - particularly Madame D's son, Dmitri Desgoffe-und-Taxis (Adrien Brody), who begins a campaign to imprison and ultimately destroy Gustave, triggering all manner of breakouts, shootouts, and bumbling chases.
If you've seen the trailer you'll be aware of the presence of the usual Anderson troupe, although it almost seems like overkill this time around, with famous faces merely popping up for the sake of a chuckle of recognition.
The action (and ample talking) takes place largely outside the hotel, in cells and trains and leering post-Soviet streets. As a summoning of a time and place, it's Anderson's greatest achievement yet. The use of miniatures is very effective, reminiscent of the model work in Herbert Ponting's 1924 documentary The Great White Silence. There are also references to Stanley Kubrick's The Shining, not just in Anderson's camera arranging characters in medium shot, and sliding through bold-coloured corridors along geometrically precise lines, but also in the theme of the passing of time: the way generations feed into each other through stories of intrigue and murder passed down.
This is a melancholy film, made darker by its greedy scheming characters, and as such it feels unusually at odds with its own madcap, absurdist style. Unfortunately (and surprisingly), f-bombs constitute much of the humour; hearing Fiennes curse coarsely is funny the first couple of times, but it becomes tiresome. The scenes between The Author (Jude Law) and older Zero (F. Murray Abraham) work best, showing us the more settled, subtle, sombre film that might have been, and possibly the future of this uniquely talented auteur - but they are also indicative of the film's lack of tonal coherency.