Movie Review: “A Bigger Splash”
Tilda Swinton, Ralph Fiennes, Matthias Schoenaerts, Dakota Johnson
At first, “A Bigger Splash” is a feast for the senses. The gorgeous locations, thrilling tunes, and nothing but good times with Tilda Swinton’s rock star feels like paradise. Midway through director Luca Guadagono’s hypnotic film, however, the dream begins to turn into an equally exciting and unnerving nightmare.
Marianne Lane (Swinton), unlike her former lover Harry (Ralph Fiennes), is speechless. After the rock star undergoes a potentially career-ruining procedure, she seeks some peace and quiet with her boyfriend Paul (Matthias Schoenaerts). They lie about in the sun, make love any chance they get, and, at least on the surface, the two couldn’t look happier. Their brief moments of peace and quiet are interrupted when Harry stops by with his “daughter” Penelope (Dakota Johnson). Harry, Paul and Marianne all share a history together — one that slowly reveals itself over the course of the narrative.
Until the surprising but inevitable third act, that’s about as much plot as there is in “A Bigger Splash,” a film that’s driven far more by atmosphere and character. David Kajganich’s script may feel like a rambling assortment of scenes, but they’re all of a piece, always serving a purpose or revealing something about the characters. When Harry lets loose to some Rolling Stones in a joyful three-minute dance sequence, we see the man Marianne used to love. That man, the one that always tries to live his life to the fullest, comes and goes throughout the film, like all four of the central characters.
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Movie Review: “The Grand Budapest Hotel”
Ralph Fiennes, Tony Revolori, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Saoirse Ronan, Edward Norton, Jeff Goldblum
At this point in Wes Anderson’s career, you either like his movies or you don’t, which is good news for fans of the eccentric director, because “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is very much a case of more of the same. You know what to expect when watching one of Anderson’s films, and his latest doesn’t disappoint, overflowing with colorful characters, zany plot twists and sublime production design. It’s also considerably darker than some of his past work, though Anderson’s trademark whimsy still bleeds through, resulting in a movie that, while hardly among his greatest achievements, proves yet again why he’s one of the best and most original directors around.
The movie is a bit like a Russian nesting doll in that it’s designed as a story within a story within a story, opening on a young girl reading a book about the titular hotel that was written by an unnamed author, portrayed at various ages by Tom Wilkinson in a brief 1985 flashback and Jude Law in 1968. It’s during the latter period that the author resided at the once-majestic Grand Budapest Hotel and learned of how its enigmatic owner, Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham), came into its possession. And this is where the story truly begins, as Moustafa then recounts his early days working as a lobby boy (played by Tony Revolori) at the hotel under the guidance of charismatic concierge Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), a man whose expert hospitality extends to sexual favors for the old and wealthy female clientele. When one such guest (an aged-up Tilda Swinton) dies and leaves Gustave a priceless painting in exchange for years of companionship, the woman’s eldest son (Adrien Brody) frames him for her murder, forcing Gustave and Zero to go on the run until they can prove his innocence.
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