There is an inherent property of water: once it is spilled, it cannot be un-spilled; there is no take backs, no true remedy to rectify the act of spilling. When there is no container, no shape to conform to, where can the water go, but outwards?
At its center, The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) is a tale of days gone by, an era that has passed us. It is enjoyable because it is a glimpse into a stylized snapshot, potent with nostalgia and quirky eccentricity, a phrase I’m sure has been used to describe Wes Anderson’s films since Bottle Rocket.
Where the hell does one begin with Fargo? It is a twisted tale of murder, staged kidnapping, insurance fraud, mallard stamps, and pancakes; it’s a story about human selfishness and greed, mediocrity inspired by suburban living, yet it also is about persistence and the dogged pursuit of fact against circumstance.
Marie Antoinette is a conundrum; is it fact or fiction? Is it fantasy or is it accurate? True or false? Yes: it is all of the above.
*Note* This is the first in a series titled “Movie Madness”, wherein I watch one movie a day and then post the review. Enjoy!