|Display at the Arclight, Los Angeles, CA|
Watching Wes Anderson's The Grand Budapest Hotel was like listening to a bedtime story told by a group of men I adore while tripping on mushrooms (the only drug I can honestly say that the two times I tried it were about as good as it gets) without a hangover and a tray full of beautiful pastries right beside my bed. The movie was as visually beautiful as you could possibly imagine (the pinks! the blues!) and as zany as a Wes Anderson movie can be, and while there were moments where I wondered what the hell, everything worked with a near-Felliniesque aplomb. Oh, and Ralph Fiennes -- Rafe, Rafe, Rafe, je t'adore.
***The photo is of a display in the theater's lobby and is the original model created by the art team. One of the many reasons that I love this nutball city is that we get to see things like this at 11:30 on a Friday morning.
Other 3-Line Movie Reviews: