Wes Anderson - The Grand Budapest Hotel

M. Gustave presses the door quietly shut again. He and Zero both look frantically around the room.

One lone Monk swings a smoking censer as he recesses quickly down the center aisle while the rest of the congregation stand in their pews singing. He steps outside and ducks away around the corner.

M. Gustave’s and Zero’s eyes light up – then narrow fiercely.

EXT. COURTYARD. DAY

M. Gustave and Zero dash out the front doors. They skid to a stop and scan the area. There is a display next to the church entrance of a wooden saint on a sled being pulled by a papier-mâché reindeer. There is no one else in sight.

A door creaks slowly in the wind outside a small shed across the way. A sign above it reads: ‘Ski Locker ( Clerical Use Only )’. A cloak and the still-smoldering censer are strewn in the snow in front of it.

Insert:

A pair of high-heeled boots clamping into a pair of ski-clips.

Insert:

A pair of hands with brass knuckles gripping a pair of ski-poles.

Cut to:

Jopling ( without cloak, on skis ) exploding out the door of the shed, making a hard pivot, and launching through the monastery gate, down the steep slope.

M. Gustave and Zero watch in shock.

Zero turns to the display next to them. He leaps over to it, kicks off the saint, flips away the reindeer, and shoves the sled full speed across the churchyard. He shouts:

ZERO

Come on!

M. Gustave chases after Zero, and they jump on board just as the sled dips sharply and accelerates like mad down the mountain. Zero hangs onto a short rope knotted to the front. M. Gustave hangs onto Zero.

Jopling, skiing superbly up ahead, looks back. He sees M. Gustave and Zero closing in. He frowns. He makes a quick detour through a gap in the trees and races down a narrow, zig-zag path.

Zero jerks the rope and follows Jopling. The sled bounces and bumps, skids and slides. Zero shouts:

ZERO

What do we do if we catch him?

M. GUSTAVE

( pause )

I don’t know! He’s a homicidal psychopath! Let’s stop!

ZERO

I can’t! I can barely steer !

Jopling ramps over the sloped roof of a shuttered café and lands cleanly. M. Gustave and Zero duck and shoot under it, banging between tables, scattering chairs, and rattling off the terrace.

A group of hikers in snow-shoes walks single file across the slope. They hurry to one side in a panic to dodge Jopling, then immediately hurry back to the other to dodge M. Gustave and Zero.

A long, paper banner rustles in the wind. It reads: GABELMEISTER’S PEAK, WINTER GAMES. Jopling snaps through it and shoots out onto an abandoned bobsled run. He balances nimbly as he rockets down the ice. M. Gustave and Zero burst onto the track behind him, skittering through the corners. They grit their teeth and hang on, terrified.

At the end of the run, Jopling jolts sideways, scratching across the track and showering splinters of ice, then zips up into the air and lands on the snow at the side of a road directly next to his parked motorcycle. He watches as:

M. Gustave and Zero come flying down the bobsled run at breakneck speed, slam into a dense bank at the bottom, and soar into a high arc. The sled flips and twirls, then hits the ground and splits into three pieces. Zero bashes headfirst into the deep snow and disappears – except for his feet and ankles sticking out into the air, motionless. M. Gustave smacks onto the ice and slides, spinning, off the edge of a cliff. Silence.

Jopling takes a drink from his flask. He unclips his skis. He walks slowly past Zero’s frozen legs and approaches the precipice.

M. Gustave is clutching onto a knob of jagged ice while his feet dangle above a rocky chasm a thousand feet deep. He stares up at Jopling, frightened but furious. He says quietly:

M. GUSTAVE

You sick, pathetic creep . I hate you. ( Shouting. ) Run, Zero! Save yourself, I suppose!

Zero’s feet are frozen in place. A distant wolf howls. Pause.

Jopling lifts his foot and stomps his boot down with all his might. The ice crackles and fissures. M. Gustave sighs miserably. He swallows. Jopling stomps again. The ice around M. Gustave begins to crumble. As Jopling continues to stomp, over and over, M. Gustave sadly recites:

M. GUSTAVE

‘“If this do be me end: farewell!” cried the wounded piper-boy, whilst the muskets cracked and the yeomen roared, “Hurrah!” and the ramparts fell. “Methinks me breathes me last, me fears!” said he –’

There is a powerful thump, and Jopling flies headfirst, screaming, off the cliff over M. Gustave’s head. Zero, in the midst of a diving shove, lands on his face and nearly goes over the edge himself. He is covered with snow. M. Gustave shouts, ecstatic:

M. GUSTAVE

Holy shit! You got him!

Far, far below: Jopling’s arms and legs flail as he disappears down into the deepest reaches of the chasm. M. Gustave says proudly in elation:

Well done, Zero!

M. Gustave looks greatly relieved as he continues to hang precariously and his fingers stiffen toward frost bite. Zero gasps for an instant, then thrusts his arms down, stretching, to seize M. Gustave by the wrists.

Cut to:

A binocular shot of Zero dragging M. Gustave back up onto solid ground. They dust the snow off their bodies and catch their breath.

Henckels’ voice shouts over a megaphone:

HENCKELS

( out of shot )

Halt!

M. Gustave and Zero look across the hillside to the next slope. A hundred advancing troops hurry toward them, descending swiftly. The tiny figure of Henckels at the head of the squadron continues forcefully:

Gustave H.! You’re a fugitive from justice! Do not attempt to flee! Surrender lawfully, and I personally vouchsafe your fair treatment! Repeat: do not attempt to flee!

M. Gustave turns to Zero. Zero says, unsure:

ZERO

What do you think?

M. GUSTAVE

( weary )

I don’t know. I’d rather jump off this cliff right now than go back to fucking prison.

M. Gustave looks lost and tired. Zero stares at him. He nods. He says calmly:

ZERO

I say we steal that sick maniac’s motorcycle, go fetch Agatha, take back ‘Boy with Apple’, and head for the Maltese Riviera, once and for all.

M. Gustave’s face lightens. He is moved and deeply impressed.

M. GUSTAVE

Very good! You’re so extraordinary, Zero. Thank you. ( Gravely. ) A moment of silence in memoriam of a devoted servant killed violently during the conduct of his duties.

M. Gustave and Zero stare solemnly into space for about five seconds. Bloodhounds bark in the far distance. Zero says quietly:

ZERO

Goodbye, Serge.

M. Gustave nods suddenly. He and Zero break into a sprint, race over to the motorcycle, and jump on. Zero kick-starts the engine, and M. Gustave, on the rear fender, hangs on tightly as they rumble away down the icy road.

Cut to:

Henckels watching from the distance. He lowers his binoculars. He looks worried.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

The war began at midnight.

Cut to:

M. Gustave and Zero winding along the highway. Zero yells back over his shoulder: