What this movie has to say about disability is: Americans and American cinema are terrified of it. Fascinating on that level, but basically unendurable, with more post-production scars than Harvey Weinstein's pockmarked face.
"Back in those days I was much more of a taskmaster. I would make my actors hit those marks and always be in their light, and now I've kind of--I don't care as much anymore. I wouldn't allow there to be a camera bobble in any of those films. If the camera jiggled one frame, I'd have to do the take again. But nowadays, audiences are so different. I don't think they appreciate the attention to detail. Maybe subconsciously they…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
I hate this movie for all its cutesy quoting of Wrath of Khan while trying and spectacularly failing to sublet its gravitas. I hate it for casting the whitest actor on Earth as a man named Khan Noonien Singh. I hate it for the way that every shot in the back half is a three-ring circus of lens flares, cluttered sets, and CGI embellishments. I hate it for turning Spock into Sheldon from "The Big Bang Theory". I hate it…
Wes Anderson is a sharp guy, I'm sure the satirical component of those Mendl's pastry boxes didn't escape him, but still I couldn't help seeing them as an apt metaphor for the whole misbegotten enterprise: a giant pink container (like the Grand Budapest itself) housing a picture-perfect amuse-bouche free of nutrition and surrounded by a whole lot of air. Anderson is growing too dementedly solipsistic for me, and also bitter in a way that sadly never threatens to burst the…