Wes Anderson - The Grand Budapest Hotel

The guard waits in the corner. He checks his watch.

Zero looks horrified. He gasps:

ZERO

What happened?

M. GUSTAVE

What happened, my dear Zero, is I beat the living shit out of a snivelling little runt called Pinky Bandinski who had the gall to question my virility – because if there’s one thing we’ve learned from penny dreadfuls, it’s that, when you find yourself in a place like this, you must never be a candy-ass. You’ve got to prove yourself from day one. You’ve got to win their respect. Of course, I’ve got about a foot and a half of reach on Pinky, so once I’d pried him loose out from under my armpit, it was short order before I whipped him into scrambled eggs. ( Takes a sip of water .) You should take a long look at his ugly mug this morning. ( Spits blood back into the cup .) He’s actually become a dear friend. You’ll meet him, I hope. So.

M. Gustave slides closer to the glass. So does Zero.

You talk to Kovacs?

ZERO

I saw him last night in secret. He made me take an oath (on a Bible). I wouldn’t tell a soul. You’re supposed to, also.

M. GUSTAVE

( irritated )

I’ll do that later.

ZERO

He suspects you’re innocent.

M. GUSTAVE

Of course he does. What’s the charge?

INT. TAVERN. NIGHT

An alcove in a corner of a dark, seedy, back-street ale house. Shady characters lurk at the counter. Zero sits across from Deputy Kovacs, who reads a report to him by the light of an oil-lamp. They both sip mugs of lager. There is also a small Bible on the table.

DEPUTY KOVACS

‘In the small hours of the evening of nineteen October, an individual well-known to the house and staff, a M. Gustave H., did arrive at the Desgoffe und Taxis residence in Lutz and enter by the rear service alley, alerting no one to his presence, and did then proceed by way of back-stairs and servants’ passage to deliver himself into the private chambers of Madame D. There is no evidence to indicate whether this visit had been pre arranged with her or not. The next morning, Madame D. was found dead by strychnine poison ing. M. Gustave was not observed on the premises again until –’ of course – ‘twenty-four hours later.’ The identity of his accusers is made clear in this notarized deposition.

Deputy Kovacs produces another document which he hands to Zero. Zero studies it as Deputy Kovacs continues:

DEPUTY KOVACS

They include, essentially, all members of the extended family – but the key witness who actually (ostensibly) saw the alleged events appears to have fled the jurisdiction. His whereabouts are currently unknown, but he’s being sought and pursued by the relevant authorities.

ZERO

( concerned )

Who is he?

Cut to:

M. Gustave with a look of utter astonishment on his face. He blurts out:

M. GUSTAVE

Serge?

ZERO

I’m afraid so.

M. GUSTAVE

That little prick .

Pause. M. Gustave reconsiders.

M. GUSTAVE

No, I don’t believe it. They put him up to it. I’ve been dropped into a nest of vipers.

ZERO

You have an alibi?

M. GUSTAVE

( offhand )

Certainly, but she’s married to the Duke of Westphalia. I can’t allow her name to get mixed up in all this monkey business.

ZERO

( gravely )

M. Gustave: your life may be at stake.

M. GUSTAVE

( bitterly )

I know, but the bitch legged it. She’s already on the Queen Nasstasja halfway to Dutch Tanganyika.

M. Gustave sighs and stares at the floor, shaking his head. He looks like he is about to cry. Zero says finally – almost inaudibly:

ZERO

Don’t give up.

M. Gustave looks back to Zero. He nods. He points.

M. GUSTAVE

What’s in the box?

ZERO

( encouraging )

A Courtesan au chocolat .

M. GUSTAVE

( deeply moved )

From Mendl’s. Thank you, my angel.

EXT. STREET. NIGHT

A dark lane crowded with narrow, crooked little buildings. Rushing water gurgles down the gutters. A pack of rats darts across the road in single-file and disappears into a drainpipe. A church bell rings across the city.

Jopling waits on the threshold of a ramshackle cottage staring at the front door.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

The details of the conspiracy, now a matter of public record, were, at that time, impossible for us to apprehend.

The door cracks open. A young Washerwoman with a club-foot and a rag in her hands peers out. Jopling hands the woman his card. She studies it.

Insert:

An engraved calling card on bright, white stock which reads:

J. G. Jopling, Esq.

PRIVATE INQUIRY AGENT

The woman looks back up to Jopling, nervous. He says in a low voice:

JOPLING

I’m looking for Serge X. – a young man in the service of my employers, the family Desgoffe und Taxis of Schloss Lutz.

WASHERWOMAN

( timidly )

Yes, sir?

JOPLING

You’re his sister?

WASHERWOMAN

Yes, sir.

JOPLING

Seen him lately?

WASHERWOMAN

( surprised )

No, sir.

JOPLING

( doubtful )

No, sir?

WASHERWOMAN

( innocent )

No, sir.

JOPLING

I need to find him right away. For his own safety – ( Pointing in her face .) And everyone else’s. If he shows up?

WASHERWOMAN

( tentatively )

Yes, sir?

JOPLING

( darkly )

Tell him Jopling says, ‘Come home.’

Pause. The woman nods. Jopling turns away and walks over to a black motorcycle parked at the corner.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

But one thing was certain: the Desgoffe und Taxis were a very powerful family –

Jopling puts on a pair of goggles, kick-starts his engine, revs the motor, and rumbles away. The woman shuts the door and locks the bolt.

Cut to:

Jopling racing his howling motorcycle through the center of the city at midnight. Under the goggles, his eyes are calm.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

– and time was not on our side.

INT. MESS HALL. NIGHT

Another evening meal. The full assembled staff sits at the long table, anxious and curious, murmuring. The cook waits, uncertain, gripping a cauldron by his oven-mitts. A door swings open.

Mr. Mosher and Zero stride into the room. Mr. Mosher holds up an envelope and beckons to Zero.

MR. MOSHER

A letter from M. Gustave. Zero?

The staff whispers excitedly then falls silent as Zero ascends M. Gustave’s podium, opens the envelope, and takes out a piece of paper. Pause. Zero clears his throat and reads in a formal voice:

‘My dear and trusted colleagues –’

Cut to:

M. Gustave in his cell (where his podium seems to have been magically transported). A gentle halo of light glows behind him. He addresses the camera as he begins his usual pacing:

M. GUSTAVE

– I miss you deeply as I write from the confines of my regrettable and preposterous incarceration. Until I walk amongst you again as a free man, the Grand Budapest remains in your hands – as does its impeccable reputation. Keep it spotless and glorify it. Take extra special care of every little-bitty bit of it as if I were watching over you like a hawk with a horsewhip in its talons – ( brandishing a soup-ladle ) because I am . Should I discover a lapse of any variety during my absence, I promise: swift and merciless justice will descend upon you. A great and noble house has been placed under your protection. (Tell Zero if you see any funny business.)