Escape by Confection

Rating: 9/10 (19 March 2014)

A meticulously crafted picture-book world, that are resided by decisively quirky characters, whose lives are governed by the principle of offbeat humor. These are the qualities that define what is almost a genre of its own that is a Wes Anderson film. In his most recent work, Anderson brings these qualities to yet another level with an unprecedented control and maturity.
The Grand Budapest Hotel takes us to a made-up country deep in central Europe in the bygone era of the 1930's–the furthest away from here-and- now among all the Wes Anderson film destinations. Being a perfect concierge, the writer/director arranges a proper trip across the distance by triple-framing the core story: a girl visits the statue of a writer, who materializes on screen to recount his decades-old memory, in which the owner of a decrepit hotel of an old glory tells the story of m. Gustave H.. Once there, we are pampered, not only with the exquisite sets and locations of a grand scale and pleasing aesthetics, but also by the sweeping plot that grabs the viewer like no other Wes Anderson stories do.
It would not be an exaggeration to call Ralph Fienne's m. Gustave H. the most fascinating and lovable Wes Anderson character that lived on screen. He is imperious, flamboyant, and finicky, and yet, gentle, delicate, and understanding. Arguably a ridiculous fellow, he still strikes us as a decent man, and through the narrator's affectionate eyes, is rendered as an endearing character that elicits a protective instinct from the viewer. We cannot take our eyes off the screen as he navigates through the threat of violence with squeamish grievances and stubborn adherence to his own peculiar set of protocols.
An astonishing thing about The Grand Budapest Hotel is how it evokes complex emotions about rather unsuspected subjects. There surely is the bittersweet nostalgia about the world long lost, but there is something more. Although what m. Gustave is running away from is neither totalitarianism nor the threat of a war, we catch ourselves subconsciously grieving this aspect of the history by the end of the story. It is this tinge of soulfulness that makes The Grand Budapest Hotel truly special.
I came to see Wes Anderson's films as perfectly confected pieces of pastry with tiny hammers and chisels in them. They allow us to escape from the banality and brutality of reality. Two hours in his theater is our brief stay in a grand old hotel of fantasy. As I realized, escapism is not just analgesic, but it can also be therapeutic. Escapism at its best allows us to address obliquely the things that are difficult to be faced headlong. In its strange way, it helps us cope. And of course, it takes us to wonderful places that delight our hearts and expand our world.