Take your hands off my lobby boy!

Rating: 9/10 (7 September 2015)

First of all, The Grand Budapest Hotel is quintessential Wes Anderson. It's perhaps his most crisp film yet, and his most gorgeous one. There's the Anderson-esque matter-of-fact humour ("Did he just throw my cat out the window?"), and his alumni make their cameos as usual. The production design and costuming are exquisite, right down to the elegant chapter cards. New technical achievements are evident; the miniature models of the grand pink hotel itself, the snowy trees, the observatory, the diagonal tram all contribute to the dollhouse aesthetic that Anderson has carefully manufactured before, but here it is in even bigger scale. Yeoman's colour palette is again lush, ranging from the ornate warm interiors of the lobby, baby pink walls and bright red carpets, the cold browns of the other mansion of Swinton's recently deceased character, the harsh blue tint of the snowy exterior. What about the contrast of the blue and the orange merry-go-round before that gorgeous shallow focus bokeh shot of Agatha? It absolutely personifies young love.
Yeoman's planimetric approach is again visible, and so we get symmetrical close ups that double as POVs like that Agatha one, or the conversation between Gustave and a dying Madame D, promoting an odd sense of intimacy. The first train interrogation scene is particularly well edited with a sense symmetry and space, with only sparse master shot coverage. The storytelling device of the multiple timelines is visualised through several aspects ratios, the most prominent of them in Academy, or 1.375:1, and this serves the composition when Anderson can push the characters together and assemble them in layers like a family portrait. Like that penultimate shot of the group in the submarine in Life Aquatic, Budapest has a few examples of this; Norton's Henckels poking his head through the ground to address his men, the various compositions in the bright red elevator, the hug amidst mountains of pink Mendl's boxes. Like Yeoman's past work with Anderson, the camera rarely moves, capturing a scene dead on then letting characters walk or poke their heads in, adding to that painterly effect. Zero emerges from Agatha's trapdoor, exiting and re-entering the frame on the next roof with a cartoon-syle sense of movement and efficiency. But when the camera does move, it adds much energy, like the bustling way we follow Gustave through the hotel lobby, designating tasks here and there, all while interviewing the new hire. It's a effective debut for the two leads; Gustave asks why Zero would want such a miserly job, and he responds "Well, who wouldn't - at the Grand Budapest, sir. It's an institution." Fiennes shows the first sign of interest here, but still hiding behind that facade of the meticulous concierge. "Very good." And I tend to agree.
Desplat's score here is sublime, not sweeping or grandiose but some of his best work in creating a whimsical but wistful mood for such a heavy contextual premise. It's an American film, and mostly an American production and mixed British cast, but Desplat's orchestrations reflect the context with its Russian Folk influence that utilises a whole range of more traditional instruments such as the balalaika, the mandolin and the cimbalom. The score is lively appropriately, combining percussion and choir with the miniature play-like aesthetic of the snow chase, and Mr Moustafa and Gustave's piano/strings themes are stirring and nostalgic. But the tour de force has to be the opening theme, a heartfelt two part harmony Appenzell yodel "s'Rothe-Zäuerli" from Swiss folk group Öse Schuppel.
Budapest's narrative is delivered through a several layers of time and therefore nostalgia is deeply rooted within the story, twisting and morphing it. Several moustached Stefan Zweig type characters reflect his influence on Anderson's creative process; the yearning nostalgic pasts of Gustave and an older Zero, the fascination and careful listening of Jude Law which is reminiscent of some of Zweig's work himself (Beware the Pity). Most attempts at philosophical musings or recitation of poetry from the seemingly cultured Gustave are abruptly interrupted for humour or profanity. Or perhaps that's just a reflection of the more inner persona that hides behind the concierge. We seldom are allowed a peek under that facade, but Zero throughout the journey is offered a rare opportunity. The contrast between the first and last train interrogation is insightful; Gustave is indignant and protective in both, but the second time around the sense of partnership is strengthened so much that we already know what Fiennes is about to declare. It's shot in black and white, and so the war and reality robs the story of its innocence. Is it romanticisation in Zero's retelling of the story, as he canonises Gustave as a man of great courage and kindness? Whichever conclusion, Fiennes' performance is one of a kind, dignified but intimate with time. There's definitely interference when the tale reaches Agatha's role; the lights dimmer and cast theatrical shadows over F. Murray Abraham's tear streaked face, a cinematic touch that can in turn be attributed to Wilkinson's retelling. We view Agatha from a distance; she is a door barred from entry, its memories too painful to be unlocked by the elderly Zero.
Agatha's fate is addressed with a few tender lines, Gustave just six solemn words to end the tale. Why does an elderly Zero choose to approach a young writer and share his story? Perhaps he means to illustrate that men like Gustave cannot be allowed to die out, even if the retelling is at times coated with a romanticised nostalgia or insincere humour? Perhaps he is like his own self described "faint glimmer of civilisation in that barbaric slaughterhouse once know as humanity"? Or should we choose to include the "f*ck it"? Gustave liberally applied a perfume to his life, with only one certain lobby-boy able to penetrate that illusion and pass on his story. As Matt Zoller Zeitz eloquently states, "life destroys, art preserves". And what a piece of art The Grand Budapest Hotel is.