The Grand Budapest Hotel, New Film Release by Wes Anderson
We slid into our plush pleather reclining seats having ordered cocktails and potstickers, to be brought by one of the locals. Then we relaxed, laid back, and took a little trip back to another time, in another, powerfully familiar, world. We rode the film’s fantastic train of lacy thought deep into its delicate yet surprisingly un-flighty core of solid historically correct material and manners, which render this film watch-worthy, delightful. A loyal and true, honest and steadfast pleasure; each time gaining speed with a whipping swish, a rumbling, passage, a driving… light rhythm… a refined ride deep into the decidedly slow paced, well knit, lovely crafted, and the earnest surprisingly linear delivery of intimate detail in a period piece set in a gentler… or perhaps NOT so gentle, world at the brink of WAR. There is the marvelously creepy Assassin, nailed by Willem Dafoe and the brutal train stopping paper searching police… A strange, lingering film with haunting hints of berry special… it was, , intoxicating to behold and to take in, to watch the film meander its perfectly planned course… in a subtly homoerotic… a stunning romp through a fantasy Europe of a bristling Germanic Pizzaz, where a friendship between a man, “M. Gustave H., the legendary concierge at a famous European hotel between the wars,” and a boy, Zero Moustafa, binds the twirling sparkling jeweled core of this finely woven blend of fact and fiction, authenticity and originality.
Grand is the cast of the the film, we enjoyed. Short appearances by Bill Murray, Adrien Brody, Jude Law, Lea Seydoux, a solid and sweet performance by Edward Norton as the fastidiously correct official and Master Mind Jail Bird: Harvey Kietel …Saoirse Ronan, is the cake baking bicycle peddling innocent that saves the protagonist from confinement via dexterous baking skills and a passion for the LOBBY BOY, Zero Moustafa.
We have to expect brilliant performances, by eternally resplendent jewel, Anglo-Saxon goddess, Tilda Swilton and (Hyper Refined British Dreamboat) Ralph Fiennes, we sank into a the eye candy sweet confection of a film, perhaps not Anderson’s “finest,” work yet… it maybe… indeed a masterfully crafted piece of film legend, an authentic masterpiece, a genuine glittery jewel of cinematography! I expect it to win every award. It should.
The Grand Budapest is a charming film. It speaks the language of the international elite with a show stopping performance by every ART CHAT and Muse News Reader and commentator… Thank you for stopping by and for checking in and for the steady contributions of significant support.
Just a little whiff of L’Air de Panache; Pure Musk… Ah!
The setting, a nonexistent country east of somewhere in Europe, Zubrowka, “inspired,” or based on the writings of the tragically romantic author and poet, Stefan Zweig, who committed suicide in protest of the war…
Acclaimed English painter: Michael Taylor, created the prop painting at the center of the playful film’s jolly little clockwork perfect plot.
Ralph Feines is unwaveringly dreamy… the perfect concierge, inviting… admittedly… seductive. You understand, the adoration, the admiration, and the respect people feel for the caring, brave, and loyal protagonist.
The Lobby Boy, deftly acted by Tony Revolori, the “helpful,” boy, who travels with Gustave, in the capacity of “Personal Valet,” with a stolen painting… containing a will which… I won’t tell you any more, you really want to see this beautiful light bright and intelligent dazzler, while you can catch it at select theaters NOW.
Tilda Swilton is absolutely amazing. She dazzles the eye and plays the role of a vain as a frail (Thomas Pynchon’s Classic novel, “The Crying of Lot 49,” a la Turns & Taxis… all powerful heiress of an unspeakably vast fortune, mother to the most despicable brat.
(Earlier this week I had the twisted pleasure of seeing a terrible film, “Noah,” and utterly twisted telling of the Old Testament tale. Is nothing sacred?)
The film Noah, depicted the Prophet as a contemporary Malibu Hippie… well, not really but kind of… (read more here).
In the film we return in time to a world someplace on the edge of reason, more polite and correct… yet “Mad,” if a little safe, a cozy classic. The bubbly flows… even the assassin has style… leather clad Monster.
The Royal Tenenbaums was the first Wes Anderson film we really fell for. The colors and depiction of a wonderfully quirky blended family, living in a rambling book filled brownstone somewhere posh in Brooklyn… with stories braided within the margins of still deeper and more intricate tales… the prominent other voice in film-making enjoying a long career as one of Hollywood’s best alternate directors, his refined sensibility, always on display and dominating the film’s development. Spinning, dazzling, delicious and sweet this film stands out among the many and yet is not… well, substantial enough… perhaps. Yet, here I am inspired to write about this film in the middle of the night just hours after seeing it.
Protagonist: Gustave, a metro male, a character from in another unwritten, imaginary version of Alfred Hitchcock’s… homage or pillage of the Oriente Express: the train, the pace…the old world elegance teetering on icy cold mountains of traditional notions of what is correct and which is simply… comic relief the cliche of blades and miniature hacksaws baked into exquisite pastry deliciously fits this film to a tea… a little Hitchcock inspired ride through an alternate reality, where the gay and liberal aristocratic spirit that joined artistic, the anarchist, and the refuge in… The BIG PICTURE beauty of Art and its need to be rescue, re-homed, adopted by its, ultimately rightful heir… the picture at the center of the film, that art need not save the world but that it might be a reason for someone otherwise or merely apparently insignificant to muster the courage with which to face life.
Historically astute… pushing all kinds of elevator buttons, taking a ride up and down the frosty hillside, just ahead of the horrible gun toting assassin… AND don’t let me get started on Jeff Goldblum!
Owen Wilson, plays only a minor role… yet, we all know how Frau Kolb feels about Owen… right? Frau Kolb LOVES OWEN… I met him and Wes Anderson, briefly one night at Hals… I sat behind him on a plane to Maui, not long after… I dream of directing O. in a few films… Ah!
Overall: I wish more films would have this delicate honesty and whimsical literate approach. This is a film, I will see again. This is one I will add to my tiny collection of treasured films.