Wes Anderson - The Grand Budapest Hotel

M. GUSTAVE

You’ve nothing to fear. You’re always anxious before you travel. I admit you appear to be suffering a more acute attack on this occasion, but, truly and honestly – ( Suddenly taken aback .) Dear God. What’ve you done to your fingernails?

Madame D. wears an understated, pale-pink polish. She stiffens.

MADAME D.

I beg your pardon?

M. GUSTAVE

This diabolical varnish. The color’s completely wrong.

MADAME D.

( slightly uncertain )

Really? You don’t like it?

M. GUSTAVE

It’s not that I don’t like it. I’m physically repulsed. ( Checks his watch again .) Time to go!

INT. CORRIDOR. DAY

The procession of trunks, cases, and assistants goes in one direction, and M. Gustave, Madame D., and Zero ( carrying a small leather jewel case ) go in the other.

Cut to:

The elevator on its way down. M. Gustave sits with Madame D. ( now wearing gloves ) on a velvet-upholstered bench. She clutches his arm and looks deeply concerned. Zero with the jewel case stands at attention alongside a veteran elevator operator.

M. GUSTAVE

Perhaps this will soothe you.

MADAME D.

( alarmed )

What? Don’t recite.

M. GUSTAVE

Just listen to the words.

MADAME D.

( anxious )

Please. Not now.

M. GUSTAVE

Hush! ( Declaiming gently .) ‘While questing once in noble wood of grey, medieval pine, I came upon a tomb, rain-slick’d, rubbed-cool, ethereal; its inscription long-vanished, yet still within its melancholy fissures –’

Madame D. sighs deeply yet does seem to calm somewhat as she accepts the inevitability of these stanzas.

EXT. FRONT ENTRANCE. DAY

The trunks are piled on the roof of a long, silver limousine. More suitcases stick out of the rumble seat ( along with the two bellboys ) . Madame D. and her secretary sit inside the car. M. Gustave reaches in the window and tightens a fur stole around Madame D.’s shoulders.

MADAME D.

Will you light a candle for me, please? In the sacristy at Santa Maria.

Madame D. digs a five-Klubeck coin out of her handbag and presses it into M. Gustave’s hand. He accepts it:

M. GUSTAVE

I’ll see to it myself immediately. ( Saintly .) Remember: I’m always with you.

M. Gustave begins to withdraw, but Madame D. grips his shoulder tightly. She whispers, sincere and impassioned, what she fears will be their last communication:

MADAME D.

I love you.

M. GUSTAVE

( as if to a child )

I love you .

( Barking at the driver .) Abfahren!

The driver hits the gas. M. Gustave watches as the vehicle races away, spitting ice-chips off the packed snow. Zero lingers outside the front door. M. Gustave says with discreet pride as he continues to stare off down the road into the village of Nebelsbad:

M. GUSTAVE

It’s quite a thing winning the loyalty of a woman like that for nineteen consecutive seasons.

Zero hesitates – uncertain that he is, in fact, being addressed. He ventures:

ZERO

Yes, sir.

M. GUSTAVE

She’s very fond of me, you know.

ZERO

Yes, sir.

M. GUSTAVE

I’ve never seen her like that before.

ZERO

No, sir.

M. GUSTAVE

( mildly concerned )

She was shaking like a shitting dog.

ZERO

( unfamiliar with the expression )

Truly.

M. Gustave holds out the five-Klubeck coin, still staring off into the distance, and says rapidly, though distracted:

M. GUSTAVE

Run to the cathedral of Santa Maria Christiana in Brucknerplatz. Buy one of the plain, half-length candles and take back four Klubecks in change. Light it in the sacristy, say a brief rosary, then go to Mendl’s and get me a Courtesan au chocolat . If there’s any money left, give it to the crippled shoeshine boy.

M. Gustave points to a blind child in leg braces crouched at the top of the funicular tracks. The boy whistles a war march while he polishes a man’s boots.

ZERO

Right away, sir.

Zero nods briskly and takes the coin. M. Gustave looks squarely at him for the first time.

M. GUSTAVE

Hold it.

Zero freezes, poised to dash off. M. Gustave frowns slightly. He says finally, pointing:

M. GUSTAVE

Who are you?

ZERO

( stammering )

Zero, sir. The new lobby boy.

M. GUSTAVE

( mystified )

Zero, you say?

ZERO

Yes, sir.

M. GUSTAVE

Well, I’ve never heard of you. I’ve never laid eyes on you. Who hired you?

ZERO

( worried )

Mr. Mosher, sir.

M. GUSTAVE

( sharply )

Mr. Mosher!

M. Gustave snaps his fingers. A man with neat, oily hair and a thin moustache briskly approaches. He is Mr. Mosher.

MR. MOSHER

Yes, M. Gustave?

M. GUSTAVE

Am I to understand you’ve surreptitiously hired this young man in the position of a lobby boy?

MR. MOSHER

He’s been engaged for a trial period – pending your approval, of course.

M. GUSTAVE

( vaguely remembering )

Perhaps. Thank you, Mr. Mosher.

MR. MOSHER

You’re most welcome, M. Gustave.

M. Gustave looks back to Zero. He says ominously:

M. GUSTAVE

You’re now going to be officially interviewed.

INT. LOBBY. DAY

M. Gustave strides through the front doors. Zero is quickly at his heels, terrified. M. Gustave withdraws a small notebook from his pocket as they walk. Zero asks, uncertain:

ZERO

Should I go and light the candle first?

M. GUSTAVE

( not sure what he means )

What? No. ( Starting the interview .) Experience?

ZERO

( anxious, very formal )

Hotel Kinski, kitchen boy, six months. Hotel Berlitz, mop and broom boy, three months. Before that I was a skillet scrubber in the banquet hall at –

M. GUSTAVE

( noting this )

Experience: zero.

At this moment, a criss-crossing group of people simultaneously engage M. Gustave all at once. They are: a man in a finely tailored business suit with a pair of opera tickets in his hand, a doorman in a long coat holding a bouquet of white roses, and a tiny bellboy ( this is Anatole ) .

HOTEL GUEST NO. 1

Thank you again, M. Gustave.

M. GUSTAVE

( curtly to Anatole )

Straighten that cap, Anatole. ( Warmly to the hotel guest .) The pleasure is mine, Herr Schneider.

ANATOLE

( working on it )

The damn strap’s busted.

M. GUSTAVE

( studying the roses )

These are not acceptable.

DOORMAN

I agree, M. Gustave.

Suddenly, M. Gustave and Zero are alone again. M. Gustave resumes his interrogation as they proceed across the carpet:

M. GUSTAVE

Education?

ZERO

( worried )

I studied reading and spelling. I completed my primary school certificate. I almost started –

M. GUSTAVE

( noting this )

Education: zero.

A second criss-crossing group of people now engage M. Gustave. This time: a very old Washroom Attendant carrying a monkey-wrench, the head waiter wearing an apron and waving a menu, and a woman of a certain age in a beautifully embroidered dress with a small dachshund cradled in her arms.