Surlaw posted:

This is the most artificial and precisely packaged film Anderson's made and that's perfect. It's the product of a flowery film maker with extreme attention to detail telling the story of a flowery author writing the second hand story of a man with a romantic poet's heart telling the story of the adventures he had with a man who embellished everything he said. It's a first person narrative told through multiple layers of detachment, and it perfectly explains the cartoonish unreality of its action; it's basically a tall tale told via a game of telephone, all with the purpose of obfuscating its true emotional core, the love story that Zero only reluctantly reveals when he has no other choice.

It's a film where reality is reshaped and twisted to suit each author's intentions (the film's most villainous actions (the cat death, the various murders, almost everything Adrien Brody says) occur entirely in places where no one would have possibly been around to tell either Zero or Gustave what happened.) It works so well because it's so detached from realism.

I love the fact that it opens with the literal Death of the Author, almost daring the audience to dig into its subtext and layers, serving largely as misdirection as to what Zero's story's really about (Agatha).

I enjoyed it a lot less than most of Anderson's films but I appreciated it more, if that makes sense.