An amicable episode of Anderson's immigration

Rating: Null/10 (28 April 2014)

BY RYAN C. SHOWERS
Wes Anderson is a filmmaker whose touch is so distinctively defined in atheistic and a deviously aberrant tone that his work could be picked out a pile of miscellaneous films by a blindfolded crowd. "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is an amicable episode of Anderson's immigration. His exquisite visuals and fragrant tone may not be compatible for some, but thankfully the latest chapter of the auteur's diary internalizes most of its idiosyncrasies instead of besieging them onto the audience.
Most of the heat encompassing "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is flowing from way of the screenplay (which is surprisingly derived from preexisting material), but I actually found Anderson's directing to be better than the script, which is not meant to discredit the writing. Anderson's tenacious vision for each and every mise-en-scene frame is ornamentally ravishing. Approximately 80% of the film is built with a centerpiece of the frame and everything behind that person or object in the setting is symmetrically detailed. The mechanical brilliance of "The Grand Budapest Hotel" is assembled by Anderson's tumultuous approach.
The plot does not hesitate to run on its ridiculous occurrences, which is why the film is able to pliably undergo Anderson's robotic editing style effectively. The score wonderfully adds to the uniqueness of the images on screen and is what captures most of the comedic moments, such as the blueprint-planned prison escape.The production values live up to the majestic bar set by Anderson's previously released films, such as the costumes, which are construed with bursting pigments and cinematography that captures hues of light that skillfully flicker the magic of the scenes.
The massive impact of the film does not end with visual decadence. The lofty cast is a collection of some of Hollywood's most prolific actors including F. Murray Abrahams, Adrien Brody, Jude Law, Bill Murray, Saoirse Roan, Tom Wilkinson, Tilda Swinton and most importantly Ralph Fiennes. The miracle of so many actors signing on for limited roles is impressive enough, but to synchronize such varying talents into a single spirit is a delight to watch. Fiennes does most of the heavy lifting as M. Gustave, forthrightly witty, but humorously proper.
The one place Anderson does not completely rival the aspects from past films is the personable attachment to the characters like what he achieved in "The Royal Tenenbaums." Here, his focus is redirected to the method of telling a story, rather than character exploration, which is forgivable. He plays with motifs and overarching plot devices instead of building layered characters.
The infamous "Boy with Apple" painting acts as a somewhat macguffin for "The Grand Budapest Hotel," a priceless painting bequeathed to Ralph Fiennes' M. Gustave by Tilda Swinton's cameo role of Madame D., which stays locked in a safe for acts two and three, but dictates most of the action in film. A sense was in the air that Anderson was possibly using the painting as a parallel to the film itself: an artistic marvel that is not fully realized until the story is complete. Another self-referential symbol of the pungent film is in the sugary, perfectly bundled Mendel pastry cakes.
Modulated with the expected stylish chapter/title cards and the amusing eccentric dialogue, Wes Anderson has assembled what is sure to be one of 2014's most genial illustrations. "The Grand Budapest Hotel" wins over the audience with the fastidious direction, the symmetric set design, Fiennes's comically deferential, deliciously blunt performance, and the accessibility derived from being immune from an overdose to Anderson's usual method.
Grade: B+
Rating: 7.6