The Grand Budapest Hotel

In Anderson’s nostalgic and grotesque retro worlds, this one may be the most literal and gaudy, but at the same time it represents a (perhaps too) literal confession not only to its own protagonists, but to the filmmaker himself. “To be frank, I think his world had vanished long before he ever entered it. But, I will say, he certainly sustained the illusion with a marvelous grace.” (25/07/2014)

Wes Anderson is a director with his own world. I’ve seen his world a few times before and I never liked it as much as I did in this movie. It may have been caused by the atmosphere of the Second World War, but I rather think it was the absurdity as such, that the director toys with in this war. It’s a bit like Tarantino’s Inglorious Basterds, only in the far more distinctive and positive style of the director, which I’ll probably never forget. And I have to admit, after watching this movie, I immediately have a reason to watch all his other movies I’ve seen before, but also the ones I haven’t seen yet. That’s how much The Grand Budapest Hotel affected me. (10/06/2014)

This playful coloring book is highly original in Wes Anderson’s traditional fashion. The fast-paced narrative tells an engaging story about interesting characters, who shine due to the brilliant actors portraying cast. I’m glad the film succeeded commercially even in US cinemas, because its unique filmmaker deserves it. (03/04/2014)

The cardboard world of Anderson's childish fantasy hooked up with a script someone dug up in Alfred Hitchcock’s forgotten archives, and I’ve definitively succumbed to this fool whose films I both liked and loathed at the same time. While it doesn't really have human emotions, but rather forcefully screwed-on tremors based on the situation the characters are in at the time, this thriller ride is as tense as anything else. The elevator scene at the end and the subsequent shootout in the gallery are both scenes that few people can really film today. PS: Most directorial aces would sell their souls for this casting. (17/03/2014)

Wes and his animated woods, this time in a cabaret version of The World of Yesterday: Memories of a European. The film is best described by the quote dedicated to the main character: "His world came to an end long before he entered it." Unlike Zero, however, I seriously doubt that Anderson handles this paradox with grace. Unfortunately, I am already able to guess ahead of time the points and camera movements, and the cameos of the stars. The story is less inventive than Murder in a Parlor Car Compartment, and it's hard to tell if an alibi with nickel-and-dime novels will stand up (these are full of twists, which The Grand Budapest Hotel is not in its linear caricature). As soon as the enthusiasm for the artistically beautifully grasped retro faded away (if we can call a style retro that is freely reminiscent of something old, but does not even correspond to it), I found myself in a sequence of dynamic and loosely connected gags that float in an approximate intellectual goulash of references, paraphrases and winking. Anderson is so fascinated by the veneer of his toy industry that, when you finally make it to the melancholic finale, you are almost sorry that he has devoted so much time to characters and scenery that are beautiful but totally flat. The Grand Budapest Hotel captures an artist at the height of narcissism, who misses what is really interesting under the influx of colorful props and grotesque gags. No doubt more fun than the desperately overrated Moonrise Kingdom, but otherwise similarly meaningless. (28/02/2014)