Wes Anderson has succeeded again in creating an individual and unconventional world in his most recent film released this March, The Grand Budapest Hotel.
The plot of the film revolves around a respected concierge, M. Gustav, and his devoted ‘lobby boy’ turned friend, Zero, who manage to entangle themselves in a tussle involving an invaluable painting and impressive family fortune.
It is a nested story, beginning with the interactions between a young writer and a now-grown-up Zero, who are both staying at the Grand Budapest Hotel, which has dulled with time. The film travels back in time by focusing on Zero’s narrative involving the Grand Budapest when it was still considered an illustrious destination and his adventure and friendship with M.Gustav.
The characters are idiosyncratic and bizarre and their actions and personalities are taken out of context, but they are far from caricatures.
Anderson maintains a balance between the theatrical and the realistic by exhibiting the peculiarities of his characters (which make them so uniquely appealing). Meanwhile, he maintains respect for them and gives them substance by indicating more complex sides of their beings.
These characters are not parodies but still preserve their eccentric qualities. They suggest that all human beings have tendencies that are as bizarre and quirky as the fabricated personas in Wes Anderson’s films. These people have simply been placed in a setting and situation that allow their intricacies to be unmasked, be played upon and explored.
The places used in the film are equally as curious as the characters that inhabit them. From the lobby of the Grand Budapest, to the highest peak on the Alps, to a desolate prison, well-framed shots and eye-catching sets and color schemes reflect the external situation in an original way. There is never a dull moment, the eye is constantly attracted to the images it is presented with, but the viewer is never burdened with superfluous detail.
Thus, the shots do not feel contrived. Instead, the attention to what is enclosed in each shot evokes artistry. The sets appear like photos in a children’s book — wonderful and imaginative while not wholly removed from reality.
Humor works so well in Wes Anderson’s film because of this great attention to detail in characters and setting. The smallest gestures and insinuations are picked up and while not a single joke may be told, the film is smart and discretely jocose. This humor is present even though The Grand Budapest Hotel is more violent than some of Anderson’s other films. Fingers are sliced off, a woman is decapitated and a cat is brutally thrown out of a window.
However, these moments do not last long, and the film quickly returns to its whimsical approach. In contrast to this bloodshed there are also tender moments of affection: Zero’s first interactions with Agatha, the local baker’s assistant and M. Gustav’s infatuations with elderly (if not ancient), women. Love and violence are never exploited and are portrayed with emotional simplicity, allowing the playfulness of the film to be maintained.
The Grand Budapest Hotel is sophisticated and quirky. Its aesthetic qualities aid in its ability to tell a story that is fantastical without losing a grasp on reality. In a way, the film is an example of magical realism, blending the impossibilities of a fictional world with the truths of a very real one. It has a bittersweet end and does not conclude as the viewer may expect or want, but this lends to its ability to remain grounded and taken seriously. The viewer is offered a glimpse into romanticism.
When the film has concluded, it does not seem out of question that somewhere, sometime, perhaps events similar to these did in fact take place.
