I instantly became a fan of off-beat and quirky director Wes Anderson after seeing his 2009 animated masterpiece “Fantastic Mr. Fox”, based on the book by Roald Dahl, and starring the voices of George Clooney, Meryl Streep, and Bill Murray. “Mr. Fox” actually topped my list of the Best Films of ’09. However I was disappointed by Anderson’s next film, the live-action 2012 Oscar nominee “Moonrise Kingdom”. The story and characters were just too “out there” for me. He took quirky to a level, making it impossible for me to enjoy that ride, as hard as I tried.
Now comes Anderson’s latest, “The Grand Budapest Hotel”, and it takes my frustration with the work of this talented director to a whole new level. Most critics and Anderson disciples are praising this movie because they love his style of directing and storytelling – from the inventive camera angles to his musical choices to his signature set and costume designs. And “Budapest Hotel” has all of that. However, the most important elements of a movie for me are an engaging story and high entertainment level, and “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is dearly lacking in both of those categories.
Anderson tries all his usual tricks, including filling “Budapest Hotel” with his core group of actors: Murray, Owen Wilson, Jason Schwartzman, Adrien Brody, Tilda Swinton, Bob Balaban, and others, though many only have “blink-of-an-eye” cameos.
The opening five minutes include a series of “flash” flashbacks, which actually work in grabbing your attention. The story goes from present-day, to the 80s, to the 60s, and finally to 1932, and the beginning of wartime in Europe. And early on we learn that Tom Wilkinson, whose character died in “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel”, suffers the same fate here (this guy should stay away from hotels). But he serves as the writer of a book that the film is based on. Why? Because twenty years earlier (as Jude Law), he visits the hotel and learns how the longtime owner of the now struggling establishment came to inherit the place.
From there, F. Murray Abraham’s Zero narrates his story of working as a lobby boy with then hotel concierge M. Gustave H. (played by Ralph Fiennes). Gustave is wrongly accused of murdering a wealthy hotel resident he had a relationship with after her family finds-out that she left him a valuable painting in her will. He ends-up in prison, and must escape to clear his name and get what he is owed. And Zero (Tony Revolori) is there to help him throughout a wild series of wacky situations.
And that’s basically it. The main problem with “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is that the plot goes nowhere and very few of the characters, in any of the time-frames, evolve to a level of being remotely interesting. And any idea of this being a fun or funny adventure is also out of the question. Anderson tries to mix humor with some dramatic, occasionally violent, and forced emotional moments, but hardly anything works. The majority of the scenes in the film do not take place in
The Grand Budapest Hotel. Maybe this was another example of Anderson-esque quirkiness. Yawn.
I found myself searching for things other than the candy-colored scenery to become immersed in, but nothing else is appealing. I like many of the actors in the ensemble, including Jeff Goldblum and Saorise Ronan, but they aren’t given much to do (but they have two of the least quirky roles in the cast). The dialogue, particularly from Fiennes, is so rapid-fire, it’s almost as if this was written by Aaron Sorkin – and I can usually tolerate Sorkin’s manic scripts.
“The Grand Budapest Hotel” is rated R for language, violence and brief nudity. It’s appropriate for teens and up. If you’re a diehard Wes Anderson fan chances are you’ll embrace its “cutesiness” and fall in love with this film. This is Anderson in all his King of Quirk glory. If, like me, you favor substance over style and solid storytelling over quirk, there’s absolutely no reason for you to see this movie.
On The Official LCJ Report Card, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” gets a C-.