Unfolding in flashbacks within flashbacks (each amusingly distinguished by a different aspect ratio), we’re introduced to the narrator known only as Author (Tom Wilkinson), who tells the story of the meeting he had as a young man (Jude Law) with the mysterious owner of The Grand Budapest Hotel (F. Murray Abraham). However, the real story at the heart of the film is the one that Abraham tells about his time as a lobby boy with a penciled-on mustache (Tony Revoloir) working for the dapper, foul-mouthed, perfectionist M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes).<\/p>\n
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<\/a>Gustave was a difficult yet charismatic man who loved his job only as much as he loved seducing the wealthy old ladies who stayed in the hotel. One of these elderly trysts was with Madame D. (Tilda Swinton covered in old age pancake makeup), the owner of the Grand Budapest who gifted the hotel and a priceless painting to Gustave in her will. Unfortunately, her children (who look like they were drawn by Edward Gorey) don’t take too kindly to that decision. Led by a dastardly Adrien Brody and his assistant Willem Dafoe (whose performance is essentially a collection of exquisite snarls), the kiddies lead an attack on Gustave in an attempt to ruin his life and steal his inheritance. An adventure kicks off involving an SS military organization led by Edward Norton, a secret society of hotel managers led by Bill Murray, a prison escape led by Harvey Keitel, and of course roles for Jeff Goldblum and Owen Wilson. If that all sounds convoluted, fear not. In Anderson’s capable hands, it plays like a tightly wound Swiss watch with a spectacular soundtrack.<\/p>\n