A blog dealing with either the joy of cinema or the agony of cinema--nothing in between.
Monday, August 11, 2014
The Grand Budapest Hotel
For a documentary on his latest book release, a writer (Tom Wilkinson) recalls his 1968 visit to the titular mountainous lodge where his younger self (played now by Jude Law) interviews the mysterious owner (F. Murray Abraham) who fondly recalls his days as a bellboy under a rascally yet noble concierge (Ralph Fiennes) and their dastardly misadventures during the German invasion. The Grand Budapest Hotel marks both a maturation and a regression of sorts for Wes Anderson, containing exemplary cinematography in which his murky and expectedly overly quirky story often gets lost--a return to the style over substance form that dominated his earlier films. Fiennes turns in a commanding and engaging lead performance while some of the many character actors make memorable turns (I particularly liked Adrian Brody and Willem Dafoe as a pair of sinister brothers) while others such as Bill Murray and Owen Wilson barely serve a purpose and seem like they just showed up for the catering.