The Grand Budapest Hotel Review

Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel features a cavalcade of quirky characters in a mostly light hearted adventure revolving around a large luxury hotel in a fictional European Country during the 1930’s. Much of what makes Anderson’s style compelling is found here: A large and eccentric cast, matriculate set and costume design, and aggressively playful and fastidious dialog. The story is anchored by the hotel’s concierge, the genteel M. Gustav, and his protégé, Zero as they try to navigate a web of conspiracy and deception surrounding one of the hotel’s guests. Thematically, The Grand Budapest Hotel is interested in reoccurring social cycles, classism, and the nature of storytelling. Each of these ideas is explored in an interesting and compelling fashion while keeping the audience on a constantly moving and amusing narrative.

                The entire film, from the acting to the set design and the little flourishes of camera work is a fully realized vision. The hotel itself is a thing of wonder. The centerpiece is a lavish lobby where high society and elegance abound. The care put into the design of everything, down to the font on signs in the background, is evident. Like the castle Hogwarts in Harry Potter or the bathhouse of spirits in Spirited Away this location is filled with enchanting bewilderments. The hotel is truly a character itself, complete with its own narrative arc. All the time you’re there you can’t help but marvel at every inch of it and wonder what’s behind every door. Everything feels as though it’s made out of colorful card stock and lends the film a whimsical tone overall.

                The film crackles with energy and never lingers on one thing for very long. The vast amount of characters outside Gustav and Zero don’t get a lot of screen time, but none of them waste a second of what they have. The character list reads like something out of a lost Victorian novel: Tilda Swinton as an aging mistress of a vast estate, Edward Norton as an affectionate chief of the secret police, Saoirse Ronan as a straight talking aspiring baker, Adrien Brody as a greedy heir (sporting a kind of bizarre kinetic energy reminiscent as his performance as Salvador Dali in Midnight in Paris). The list goes on with more wonderful performances.

The great variety of characters gives the story a somewhat varied tone. At many moments it is playful and cherry, but prospect of melancholy is never too far away. There is a sense of faded glory in this film that has manifested itself in Anderson’s work before. At times in the story it seems that Anderson is addressing this idea more so than in his previous movies. This awareness is not played for cheap meta-humor, but instead is used to explore and draw closer to the concept and why so many of Anderson’s characters chose to live their lives in the shadows of former greatness. 

 The Grand Budapest Hotel is a delight to experience, delivered in an ornate package with a bow on top. What lies inside are a cornucopia of enjoyable performances, stunning set designs, and a charming story about coming of age, societal rhythms, and a damn fine lobby boy.