The Grand Budapest Hotel

This is the oft-repeated story about a manly young adventurer who joins in the battle for an enormous family fortune. The hero in this case is a legendary white concierge at a famous European hotel who is adrift in his civilization between the wars, and Zero Moustafa, the white boy who becomes his most trusted friend, and ends up working with as the bellhop. There are a lot of wannabe filmmakers and writers out there, and this would seem to be made by one of them. Wes Anderson has made some movies, some of which actually have characters and pacing, but is somehow reverted to wannabe status.

He created a situation straight out of a loser's fantasy, the sort someone wallowing in self-pity over a breakup might come up with. The anguished, devastated white man (with nothing in him to attract anyone) gets to be morose and unforgiving, but the whole interaction was as false and fantasy driven as a GI Joe cartoon. The side characters were essentially props, not characters with recognizable motivation. Nobody behaves like the people in this movie. Writing like this comes when you don't know who your characters are, but you know what you want them to do. Ugh. And they all say exactly what they mean, totally on-the-nose writing, like nobody ever talks. No subtext, perfect self-knowledge, such character as is revealed is done through dialogue. "Show, don't tell"

The film is a brightly colored tour de force, hilariously funny, a crazy comic book world full of strange and enchanting creatures. A passing, temporary world in which one can, for a short time, live or at least imagine a dream life. Like a hotel. The visuals are astounding, the story-telling, fast-paced, inventive, always surprising, the characters quirky, grotesque, lovable.