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Movie Review: The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)


Plot synopsis: The adventures
of Gustav H. and his friend, Zero
Moustafa at the Grand Budapest
Hotel during the first and second
world wars.
Runtime: 1 hour, 40 minutes
Rated: R (for language, some sexual
content, and violence)
Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, F. Murray
Abraham, Mathieu Amalric
From the “What The Fuck Is the Point of This Movie?” Files, director Wes Anderson (Moonrise Kingdom) strikes again in The Grand Budapest Hotel.

These are the adventures of Gustave H (Ralph Fiennes), a legendary concierge at the famous Hungarian hotel between the first and second World Wars. His dearest friend, Zero Moustafa (Tony Revolori, F. Murray Abraham), the lobby boy who becomes his most trusted confidant, is always at his side. That would mean something if anything here had a point, but nothing does.

Artistically endowed from so many angles and poshly engaging on all fronts, this misaligned project is neither funny, nor effective at accomplishing, well, anything.

Even with Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Jude Law, Bill Murray, and Edward Norton giving unduly devoted performances, this beautiful mess-terpiece goes absolutely nowhere and does flat-out nothing.

Waste of film and time. I fucking hated this movie. ‘Nuff said.


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