Wes Anderson - The Grand Budapest Hotel

Dmitri and Jopling confer in a tense whisper. The sisters grumble, dismayed. The group as a whole sits up to attention. Deputy Kovacs slides a handwritten letter on pale-pink paper out of an envelope and reads:

DEPUTY KOVACS

‘To my esteemed friend who comforted me in my later years and brought sunshine into the life of an old woman who thought she would never be happy again – M. Gustave H. – I bequeath, bestow, and devise, free of all taxation and with full and absolute fiduciary entitlement, the painting known as “Boy with Apple” –’

M. GUSTAVE

( floored )

Wow!

DEPUTY KOVACS

‘– by Johannes van Hoytl –’

M. Gustave grips Zero by the shoulder like a vise. Zero grimaces.

M. GUSTAVE

I can’t believe it.

DEPUTY KOVACS

‘– the younger –’

Dmitri drops a tumbler on the floor. He blurts angrily:

DMITRI

What?

DEPUTY KOVACS

‘– which gave us both so much pleasure.’

Deputy Kovacs looks up. The three sisters talk loudly over each other simultaneously:

MARGEURITE

The van Hoytl?

LAETIZIA

Tax-free?

CAROLINA

Can she do that?

A hunched, ancient, grizzled, old man in the middle of the room throws up his hands. He asks loudly:

OLD MAN

Who’s Gustave H.?

M. GUSTAVE

( inevitably )

I’m afraid that’s me, darling.

Every face in the entire assembly now turns around fully and stares at M. Gustave and Zero. Silence.

The room erupts. All the distant relations start talking at once. Dmitri is on his feet, advancing toward the back of the room, flanked by Jopling, as he explodes, pointing at M. Gustave.

DMITRI

That fucking faggot! He’s a concierge. What are you doing here?

M. GUSTAVE

( stiffening )

I’ve come to pay my respects to a great woman whom I loved.

DMITRI

( turning to the room )

This man is an intruder in my home!

M. GUSTAVE

( making a point of it )

It’s not yours yet , Dmitri. Only when probate is granted, and the Deed of Entitlement –

DMITRI

You’re not getting ‘Boy with Apple’, you goddamn little fruit!

M. GUSTAVE

( genuinely offended )

How’s that supposed to make me feel?

The three sisters join Dmitri as the veins in his neck begin to bulge. He continues loudly, for the record:

DMITRI

Call the police. We’re pressing charges. This criminal has plagued my family for nearly twenty years. He’s a ruthless adventurer and a con artist who preys on mentally feeble, sick old ladies – and he probably fucks them, too!

The three sisters look horrified. One of the little old ladies gasps. Shocked faces look to M. Gustave. He shrugs and says tentatively:

M. GUSTAVE

I go to bed with all my friends.

Dmitri cold-cocks M. Gustave an upper-cut to the jaw and drops him with one punch. Less than a second later, Zero slams his own fist squarely right into the middle of Dmitri’s face and knocks him over backward with blood spurting out of his nose. Less than a second after that, Jopling pounds Zero in the side of the head, sending him flying with a smack against the wall and melting instantly into the floor. The room breaks into complete pandemonium.

In the midst of the chaos, the hunched old man says, aside, to a younger one:

OLD MAN

Where’s Céline?

YOUNG MAN

( hesitates )

She’s dead . We’re reading her will.

OLD MAN

( slightly embarrassed )

Oh, quite right, of course. How silly of me.

Another younger man, eavesdropping, starts coughing and spits red wine into his glass.

In the meantime: Serge helps M. Gustave and Zero to their feet as Jopling restrains Dmitri, and various of the distant relations attempt to intervene in the fray. Dmitri, behind an almost certainly broken nose, shouts furiously at M. Gustave as he strains to clamber over his henchman’s shoulder:

DMITRI

If I learn you ever once laid a finger on my mother’s body, living or dead, I swear to God, I’ll cut your throat! ( Screaming .) You hear me?

M. GUSTAVE

( clever though dizzy )

I thought I was supposed to be a fucking faggot.

DMITRI

( hesitates )

You are, but you’re bisexual!

M. GUSTAVE

( pause )

Let’s change the subject. I’m leaving.

M. Gustave turns and, assisted by Serge and a staggering Zero, exits the room.

INT. KITCHEN. NIGHT

Clotilde rushes to M. Gustave’s assistance as Serge brings him through the door. She brushes his shoulders and smooths his hair. Serge shouts frantically in French and guides them all back into his butler’s pantry. Zero holds his glass of milk against his ear like an ice -pack. Serge and Clotilde yell at each other while the other servants race in and out of the kitchen, panicking. They disappear again into the next room.

M. Gustave and Zero, alone for a moment, catch their breath. M. Gustave pants:

M. GUSTAVE

That picture – ‘Boy with Apple’ – is priceless. Understand?

ZERO

( hopeful )

Congratulations, M. Gustave!

M. GUSTAVE

They’re going to fight me for the son of a bitch.

ZERO

Is it very beautiful?

M. GUSTAVE

( swooning )

Beyond description. ( Reciting .) ‘E’en the most gifted bard’s rhyme can only sing but to the lack of her and all she isn’t ! His tongue doth trip –’

ZERO

Can I see it?

M. Gustave looks surprised. Pause.

M. GUSTAVE

I don’t see why not.

M. Gustave zooms out through the scullery and into a little stairwell. Zero follows. They spiral up a steep flight.

Cut to:

A wide landing overlooking the foyer. The voices of the bickering assembly echo from the rear of the house. M. Gustave looks quickly left and right, then darts down the hallway and through a set of double doors.

INT. LIBRARY. NIGHT

A long, narrow gallery lined from floor to ceiling with books and paintings. M. Gustave leads Zero straight through to the far end where ‘Boy with Apple’ hangs above a fireplace. He stands beside it facing Zero and assumes the role of a museum docent:

M. GUSTAVE

This is van Hoytl’s exquisite portrayal of a beautiful boy on the cusp of manhood. Blond, smooth. Skin as white as that milk. ( Pointing to Zero’s glass .) Of impeccable provenance. One of the last in private hands – and, unquestionably, the best. It’s a masterpiece. The rest of this shit is worthless junk.

M. Gustave and Zero stand side by side and admire the picture for a long minute – then Zero looks strangely to M. Gustave. M. Gustave looks back at him, curious. Zero’s eyes flicker. M. Gustave frowns.

Zero goes to the corner, picks up a footstool, and places it on the hearth.

M. Gustave hesitates. He steps up onto the footstool. He lifts the painting off its hooks. He comes back down to the floor. There is a dark rectangle in the wallpaper marking the absent picture. He turns to Zero again, uncertain.

Behind the fire-irons, leaning against a stack of etchings, Zero spots a woodcut print of two lesbians masturbating. He grabs it and hangs it in the painting’s place.

INT. FOYER. NIGHT

M. Gustave and Zero circle rapidly down the wide staircase. Serge comes into the room at the same time and meets them as they arrive at the front door. He says breathlessly: