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A belated review of The Grand Budapest Hotel




I finally got round to watching The Grand Budapest Hotel. To be honest I have no idea how or why I didn’t manage to catch it at the cinema.

I have long been a fan of Wes Anderson but this hardly seems worth mentioning, as everyone is.

His attention to detail is fascinating. He’s come a long way from Bottle Rocket, which was a lovely first film, to a masterpiece which could only be created by an artist completely in form. The richness of direction, the detail, the comic queues left my eyes fixed, almost maniacally to the screen. I remember realising, towards the end of the section in which the other concierges reveal their secret society, that my face was stuck in a grin that was making my cheeks hurt.

My question is, where does Anderson go from here? This is his zenith. This is the most Wes Anderson film that Wes Anderson could ever have produced. It really feels like he has been aiming for this film for his entire career. Every cameo earned by the least Hollywood director in Hollywood. Evidently the stars are just falling over themselves to spend 30 seconds in the glare of his lens. He approaches subject matter and leading characters that couldn’t be financed by anyone else. But what’s next?

I’m also a big Tarantino fan and by my reckoning he reached his perfect film after 6 in Pulp Fiction (if you count the ones he wrote). Instead of pursuing another success in the genre he brought to the mainstream, he chose to tip his hat to the genres he loved growing up, Blaxploitation, Martial Arts, B Movies, Wars films and Westerns. In my opinion with varying success. Did QT know that Pulp Fiction 2 (by any other name) would be a plateau he did not wish to traverse? Anderson is on 8 film, will he think the same?

Back in the present, Ralph Fiennes deserves an oscar,  my head is still spinning with the joyous ideas, the wondrous cast, the perfect silliness of a tale the likes of which Hollywood has never seen, and potentially won’t see again.

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