Whilst I am never a fan of the love-it-or-hate Marmite analogy that is often applied to distinctive filmmakers, there can be little doubt that Wes Anderson’s movies are rather divisive. They are alternately hailed as fresh, exciting visions in a world dominated by slightly drab franchises or dismissed as style-over-substance fluff. However, I feel that his latest effort, The Grand Budapest Hotel should not suffer from the same problems. Yes, it is hyper-stylised, symmetrical, straight-lined and full of stop-motion interludes, but beneath this exterior lies a hilarious and heartfelt script, some really excellent performances and an intriguing story set in the ever-tragic period of interwar central Europe.
Watching Between the Lines 