Wes Anderson - The Grand Budapest Hotel

WASHROOM ATTENDANT

Now it’s exploded.

M. GUSTAVE

( sweetly to the dachshund )

Good morning, Cicero. ( Coldly to the Washroom Attendant .) Call the goddamn plumber.

HOTEL GUEST NO. 2

( flirtatious )

This afternoon, M. Gustave?

HEAD WAITER

( angrily )

What in the hell is this?

M. GUSTAVE

( equally flirtatious )

Without fail, Frau Liebling. ( Sharply to the Head Waiter .) Not now !

The second interruption ends. M. Gustave continues:

M. GUSTAVE

Family?

ZERO

( long pause )

Zero.

M. GUSTAVE

( noting this )

I see.

M. Gustave leads Zero through a rotunda, below a grand, winding staircase, and back into the elevator. He closes his notebook. The elevator operator awaits instruction.

M. GUSTAVE

Six.

The elevator operator throws a lever and they begin to ascend. M. Gustave locks eyes with Zero.

M. GUSTAVE

Why do you want to be a lobby boy?

The elevator operator casts a sideways look. Zero searches for the honest answer – then finds it:

ZERO

Well, who wouldn’t – at the Grand Budapest, sir? It’s an institution.

M. GUSTAVE

( deeply impressed )

Very good.

INT. SITTING ROOM. DAY

M. Gustave and Zero re-enter Madame D.’s suite. M. Gustave walks directly over to a pedestal where an envelope waits tucked beneath a vase. He tears it open and withdraws a letter and a stack of bills folded in half. He counts the money and says coolly:

M. GUSTAVE

A thousand Klubecks.

ZERO

( astonished )

My goodness.

M. Gustave skims the letter. He holds it up for Zero to see. There is a lipstick-kiss at the bottom of the text. Zero is unsure how to interpret this. M. Gustave raises his eyebrows and tucks the note and the bills inside his jacket. His eyes glaze over in a moment of reverie. He sighs. Zero makes a sudden realization:

ZERO

Were you ever a lobby boy, sir?

M. GUSTAVE

( bristling but playful )

What do you think?

ZERO

( speculative )

Well, I suppose you had to start –

M. GUSTAVE

Go light the goddamn candle.

Title:

ONE MONTH LATER

INT. LOBBY. DAY

The crowded room buzzes in all corners. Zero circulates among tables and sofas holding up a folded telegram while he calls out a name, searching. A military officer in a grey uniform hails him, and Zero dashes over to deliver the missive.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

And so, my life began. Junior lobby boy (in training), Grand Budapest Hotel, under the strict command of M. Gustave H. I became his pupil, and he was to be my counselor and guardian.

M. GUSTAVE

( voice-over, rhetorical )

What is a lobby boy?

Montage:

Zero pushes an old man in a wheelchair. Zero arranges a white bouquet. Zero replaces dirty ashtrays, rearranges furniture, and shields a large woman with a toothpick from view as she excavates between her teeth.

M. GUSTAVE

( voice-over )

A lobby boy is completely invisible, yet always in sight. A lobby boy remembers what people hate. A lobby boy anticipates the client’s needs before the needs are needed. A lobby boy, above all, is discreet, to a fault.

Cut to:

M. Gustave, accompanied by Zero, advancing down a corridor at high velocity. On the floor next to each door they pass, a pair of shoes waits to be polished.

M. GUSTAVE

Our guests know their deepest secrets, some of which are, frankly, rather unseemly, will go with us to our graves – so keep your mouth shut, Zero.

ZERO

Yes, sir.

M. Gustave stops at the end of the hallway in front of a door labeled KAISER FREDERICK SUITE. He says to Zero:

M. GUSTAVE

That’s all for now.

Zero hesitates for an instant, then nods and reverses rapidly away. M. Gustave withdraws a ring of pass-keys from his pocket. He looks up and down the corridor furtively.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

I began to realize that many of the hotel’s most valued and distinguished guests – came for him .

Zero looks back briefly over his shoulder as he starts down the staircase and sees M. Gustave slip into the suite. The door locks.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

It seemed to be an essential part of his duties, but I believe it was also his pleasure.

Montage:

A succession of dames of varying grandeurs seen tête-à-tête with M. Gustave: a sixty-year-old Russian chats with him in the tea salon; a sixty-five-year-old German strolls with him on the promenade; a seventy-year-old Argentinian shares a cigarette with him, naked in her bed; a seventy-five-year-old Englishwoman washes his back in her bath; and an eighty-year-old Austrian wearing a hairnet and a nightgown gives him a blow-job while he watches in the mirror and eats grapes. There is a platinum wig on a stand on the dressing table.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

The requirements were always the same. They had to be: rich, old, insecure, vain, superficial, blonde, needy.

Cut to:

Mr. Moustafa and the author at their dinner table. The remains of a rabbit tart are replaced by a sizeable roasted pheasant as the author gently inquires:

AUTHOR

Why blonde?

MR. MOUSTAFA

( after a moment’s reflection )

Because they all were .

INT. ELEVATOR. DAY

M. Gustave, somewhat tousled, with lipstick on his cheek, stands waiting to arrive at his floor. He checks the railings for dust. The car stops and the elevator operator opens the gate. M. Gustave exits with a curt nod. A middle-aged couple enter.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

He was, by the way, the most liberally perfumed man I had ever encountered. The scent announced his approach from a great distance and lingered for many minutes after he was gone.

As the elevator descends, the middle-aged couple sniffs the air. The man looks irritated. The woman swoons slightly.

INT. STAFF QUARTERS. MORNING

Zero wakes up in the pitch black in a tiny room smaller than a service elevator, turns on the light, springs to his feet dressed in white pajamas with short trousers, splashes water from a bowl onto his face, then quickly dampens and combs his hair. His uniform hangs neatly from a peg on the wall. He carefully grooms it with a clothes-brush.

MR. MOUSTAFA

( voice-over )

I worked six days each week plus a half-day Sunday, five a.m. until just after midnight. Our meals were small but frequent (for stamina): two breakfasts, two lunches, and a late supper. M. Gustave also delivered a nightly sermon.

INT. MESS HALL. NIGHT