The Grand Budapest Hotel

The Grand Budapest Hotel ★★★★

The king of social dysfunctional hysteria Wes Anderson's tale of a Gigolo and his Grand fuckin' Hotel. Bust. Toy gun. Quirky fuckers. M. Jean. Bathhouse. Nosy Jude. Fat ass. F. Murray is the motherfucker. Wine. Dine. Gustav? Old hag. Lobby Boy. Job interview. More purple outfits than a Prince video. Saggin' tits. Box car. Lobby Boy's mustache. Derek Vinyard without tattoos. Flirting with the dead. The Fly. Adrien Brody has an Oscar? Old lady fucker. Boxing Dafoe. Step stool. Pussy painting. Bunk beds. Negotiations. Lockup. Fuckin' Serge. Black eye. Club foot. Mush. Mr. White ain't no joke. Merry-go-round. Agatha the Brave. Flying kitty. Night at the museum. Bye-bye fingers. Le Trou moment. Never-ending ladder. Death fight. Air raid. Creepy as fuck Willem. Old school payphone. Bill Murray is like my main man Tom fuckin' Atkins, he makes all films better. Mercedes Benz. Se7en moment. White coat fucker. Cable car. Holy church. Confession. X-Games skiing. Cliffhanger. Free fallin'. Owen without Vince or a wedding to crash. Otto the novice. Candy crush. Zero the hero. Death squad. Inheritance. Happy memories. Smooth sailing. Ralph Fiennes is money in the lead. Lobby Boy is a goofy funny fucker. Willem Dafoe kicks serious ass. This is simply Wes Anderson directing a Wes Anderson film. A lot of his go to guys in supporting roles. Quirky shit throughout. Delightfully entertaining. Highly recommended for fans of Mr. Anderson.

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