Wes Anderson is a marvelous film-maker, one whose body of work is simultaneously aloof and delightful. He builds worlds in his films that exist entirely independent of real-life, yet still deeply connected. The Grand Budapest Hotel is one such film, recounting the adventures of a legendary concierge and his trusted lobby boy between the wars at a famous European hotel.

The first thing you’ll notice about the film is the star-studded collective of old and new Wes Anderson collaborators. Ralph Fiennes plays the campy lead, Gustave H., with an indomitable panache. He’s supported by Tony Revolori, whose sincere and innocent expression is always an amusing default for the young apprentice.

It’s great to see F. Murray Abraham again, whose wizened features and mysterious story unfold as the enigmatic Mr. Moustafa. Jason Schwartzman does what Jason Schwartman does best and Jude Law’s always a pleasure, playing a curious writer and listener.

Willem Dafoe delivers a memorable performance as a darkly amusing and intimidating right hand man, Jopling. He’s a private executive to Adrien Brody’s spoiled, lanky, inheritance-seeking brat of a character who wants everything to go according to his plan. Jeff Goldblum is wonderfully restrained as Deputy Kovacs, while Tilda Swinton, Tom Wilkinson, Edward Norton, Owen Wilson, Bill Murray and Harvey Keitel add even more clout to the already stellar cast.

Wes Anderson is known for his chocolate box comedy dramas and this one may be the most definitive yet. Each shot is lovingly composed, each detail beautifully crafted as if he had shrunk his cast and was directing inside a fine doll house. He’s an artist, who paints the picture, designs the frame and furnishes the art museum, making time for every minute detail to give the film a layered quality.

“Allow me to introduce myself… I’m innocent.”

You could describe The Grand Budapest Hotel as “Christmassy” with lots of fancy decoration, high spirits and cockle-warming. While it certainly sounds and looks appealing, this strength is also a weakness, simultaneously distracting us from the real meaning. We’re so enchanted by the bits ‘n bobs of the doll house and its characters, that we lose touch with the reality and gravity of the story.

Anderson has turned The Grand Budapest Hotel into a Russian nesting doll, making one story within another, within another. In so doing, he leaves a trail of hollowness in search of the small and solid kernel at the heart of the beautifully-crafted contraption. It’s a fascinating and sentimental journey, one that turns a dark period of history into something charming and intricate, however something’s lost in the translation.

The detail draws you into the doll house, yet you feel somewhat unfulfilled when the credits roll. The story doesn’t manage to find resonance and relevance, making the campy exercise in entertainment fleetingly enjoyable, whimsical yet vapid. The Grand Budapest Hotel, like it’s environment, is icy and doesn’t have the same heart as Rushmore, Moonrise Kingdom or Fantastic Mr. Fox for that matter.

Fans of Wes Anderson will appreciate The Grand Budapest Hotel in all of its amusingly quirky and finely tuned glory, which has even been extended to its screen format. While others will find themselves searching tirelessly for the smallest Russian doll, a quest that may be more trouble than it’s worth. You will be entertained in the layer cake style and world of Wes Anderson, but the fascination wanes with the story’s inability to find true meaning.

The bottom line: Whimsical

Release date: 20 March, 2014
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