The Grand Budapest Hotel: The Illustrated Screenplay (Opus Screenplay)
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(Book). The Grand Budapest Hotel recounts the adventures of Gustave H (Ralph Fiennes), a legendary concierge at a famous European hotel between the wars, and Zero Moustafa (Tony Revolori), the lobby boy who becomes his most trusted friend. Acting as a kind of father figure, M. Gustave leads the resourceful Zero on a journey that involves the theft and recovery of a priceless Renaissance painting; the battle for an enormous family fortune; a desperate chase on motorcycles, trains, sleds and skis; and the sweetest confection of a love affair all against the backdrop of a suddenly and dramatically changing Continent. Inspired by the writings of Stefan Zweig, The Grand Budapest Hotel recreates a bygone era through its arresting visuals and sparkling dialogue. The charm and vibrant colors of the film gradually darken with a sense of melancholy as the forces of history conspire against our hero and his vanishing way of life. Written and directed by Wes Anderson, whose films include The Royal Tenenbaums , Moonrise Kingdom , and Fantastic Mr. Fox . The film also stars Jude Law, Tilda Swinton, Edward Norton, Jeff Goldblum, Harvey Keitel, Adrian Brody, Saoirse Ronan, Lea Seydoux, Bill Murray and Owen Wilson.
I’ve never forgotten the look on that man’s face. Serge is: deeply distraught, physically exhausted, and, above all, terrified. He swallows, holds up a quick finger for M. Gustave to wait, then disappears back out the door. M. Gustave frowns. He says to himself: M. GUSTAVE What the devil is going on? M. Gustave looks to Zero. Zero is perplexed. MR. MOUSTAFA (voice-over) I, myself, had never set foot inside a house of this kind in my life. M. Gustave dumps his glass of water into a
no,’ he said. ‘It’s only that I don’t know now to proceed.’ He was crying. Mr. Moustafa smiles sadly with tears streaming down his cheeks. The author looks worried. MR. MOUSTAFA You see, I never speak of Agatha, because – even at the thought of her name – I’m unable to control my emotions. Mr. Moustafa dries his eyes with his napkin, but the tears instantly return. He shrugs. MR. MOUSTAFA Well, I suppose there’s no way around it. You see, she saved us. Title: ONE MONTH EARLIER INT.
intelligent face – and an immediately perceptible air of sadness. He was, like the rest of us, alone – but also, I must say, he was the first that struck one as being, deeply and truly, lonely (a symptom of my own medical condition, as well). Mr. Moustafa takes a sip of sherry. The author lowers his voice and asks discreetly: AUTHOR (voice-over) ‘Who’s this interesting, old fellow?’ I inquired of M. Jean. To my surprise, he was distinctly taken aback. ‘Don’t you know?’ he asked. ‘Don’t you
pub outside the village. Windmills spin gently on the far side of a wheat field in the distance. Zero holds the door open while M. Gustave dials. M. GUSTAVE Operator, get me the Excelsior Palace in Baden-Jürgen and reverse the charges, please. (To Zero.) We’ve no choice. There’s nowhere else to turn. (Into the receiver.) I’ll hold. Thank you. (To Zero.) It’s our only hope. Otherwise, I shouldn’t even mention its existence to you. It goes without saying, you must never breath a word about this
boy? The elevator operator casts a sideways look. Zero searches for the honest answer – then finds it: ZERO Well, who wouldn’t – at the Grand Budapest, sir? It’s an institution. M. GUSTAVE (deeply impressed) Very good. INT. SITTING ROOM. DAY M. Gustave and Zero re-enter Madame D.’s suite. M. Gustave walks directly over to a pedestal where an envelope waits tucked beneath a vase. He tears it open and withdraws a letter and a stack of bills folded in half. He counts the money and