So, I have a confession to make. I have seen many of Wes Anderson's movies: Moonrise Kingdom, The Life Aquatic, I <3 Huckabees. I hate them all. I don't get them. Wes Anderson, to me, is like the Coen brothers. I obviously see how well they're made from a craftsmanship perspective. He is a very good director with a singular vision and asthetic that is uniquely his, like Tim Burton, Martin Scorsese or Spike Jonze. But the twisted stories, self-aware dry humor and vaguely unnatural aura has always been off-putting to me. Something never feels quite right whenever I climb into the worlds he creates. But now I see that all his efforts were building to the correct story for his talents, and The Grand Budapest Hotel is that story. Be warned: This movie is not a farcical screwball comedy. The commercials don't do it justice because it is almost impossible to express all the nuances of this films in two minutes. The movie veers abruptly and wildly in tone and is at times absurd, crude, funny, shocking, nostalgic, odd, relatable, distant, excessive, intimate, cruel, gleeful, and ultimately very sad. And it pulls off all of this in a tight narrative that has some very important things to say.
The movie starts in the 1960s in a fictional Eastern European-esque country in a grand hotel that has seen better days. The hotel, like its customers, is decaying on the inside, but still manages to keep a nice, but fraying outer façade. A relic from another time that has no place in its present surroundings. A young writer, played by Jude Law, strikes up a conversation with a mysterious older man who is the owner. The owner than proceeds to tell him the history of the hotel and of its concierge M. Gustave, played with gusto by Ralph Fiennes in the second role he was born to play after Schindler's List. M. Gustave ran the hotel in what appears to be pre-WWI times. He is an efficient, prim, and driven lothario who beds old, rich women who are his devoted clientele to the hotel. Apparently, he is a draw just as much as the hotel. He takes on a new immigrant orphan as a lobby boy trainee, essentially a bellhop whom we later find is the man telling the story to Jude Law. One day, one of M. Gustave's paramours dies inexplicably and leaves him a priceless, but incredibly ugly painting, much to the families' chagrin. This sets off an increasingly surreal series of events that puts M. Gustave and his lobby boy in a grand chase, set against the backdrop of international intrigue and war. While the war may be WWI, the movie never really says, but what is important is that the war is bringing in a totalitarian and repressive government that is killing a brighter age of civilization and ushering in a new age of repressive modernity devoid of feelings and humanity.
Whew! And I am just scratching the surface of this plot. There are star-crossed lovers, loyalty, betrayal and on and on and on. But what really defines this movie is its central question: Is civilization dead? Has the modern age killed all that was once good and fine in this world? The story obviously thinks so. M. Gustave is the paragon of that dying world with his courtesies and mannerisms. But the movie does more than that. It is not looking through rose-colored glasses at a gilded age. It also makes no bones about pointing out the racism and classism that was under the genteel façade of "civilization." It also points out the crudity and crassness just lurking under the surface that we choose to ignore out of courtesy. But the movie also asks if this is preferable to the modern world, gray, hard and cold? A world that crushes individuality and freedom under its bootheel? The movie argues that the spirit of vibrancy and humanity can still exist under all of that that, isolated in small oases amidst a cold, cruel outer shell. But the price for the efficiency and progress that modernity brings, the soul gets chipped away and dies inside. I could write a book on the subtle underpinnings that lurk underneath this rather absurd universe, but the absurdity of the actions and the surrealness of its tone only heighten the ultimately sad lament in the story. Do yourself a favor and get a sitter for the kids and go watch a truly adult and fulfilling film that does not pander or condescend. You'll be glad you did.
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