It is impossible to watch “The Grand Budapest Hotel,” or any of writer/director Wes Anderson’s work, without looking at it through the scope of his career. If you have seen even a portion of one of his eight feature films you can immediately tell he is a director with an auteur stronger than perhaps any in history.

Everything from the consistent color pallets to the acting team are immediately identifiable. “The Grand Budapest Hotel” does not stray whatsoever from Anderson’s well-established style, and with the success he has had, why should it.

The story of “The Grand Budapest Hotel” is told through the eyes of Zero Moustafa, who is sharing his story with the author of a book about the hotel. This sounds confusing, and can be at first, but I promise it makes more and more sense as the plot progresses.

The film is split into five neat sections. The first works mainly as exposition and a way to introduce you to the story’s eccentric main character, and concierge of the lavish Grand Budapest Hotel, Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes). He runs the hotel with an almost insane amount of organization, with each and every action carefully choreographed. The aforementioned long tracking shots paired with the frantic, eastern European score give each scene incredible momentum. In this way, Gustave’s need for exactness can be compared to the way Anderson slaves over every little detail of his movies creating an intricately precise product.

The catalyst for the films particularly zany plot is the murder of Madame D. (Tilda Swinton), an elderly countess who has a strong affinity for Gustave. Upon hearing the news, Gustave and his new lobby boy Zero leave right away to attend her funeral. Thus begins the wild journey that marks the majority of the film. A journey that brings us almost more plot twists than screwball characters, of which there are plenty.

The heart of the film though, is the growing relationship between Zero and his mentor and friend, Gustave. Fiennes is magnificent in a role that asks him to be part slapstick comedian, arrogant blowhard, and fatherly mentor. Newcomer Tony Revolori is equally as adept, playing the other part of the duo, the young Zero Moustafa.

Like all Wes Anderson movies, the key is to find the balance between understated, almost cute comedy and an intriguing story. Some of his movies that have tipped too far towards either side have suffered for the fact. “The Grand Budapest Hotel” has no trouble filling its allotted time with a plot interesting, and even at time mysterious, enough to keep viewers hooked till the end.

It does however, sometimes try a bit too hard to be laugh out loud funny. Punch lines are not Anderson’s strong suit, and the few times they come about in the film they seemed awkwardly forced. The comedy instead should be drawn from the ridiculous situations, and more ridiculous characters that always inhabit the Andersonian world.

Overall, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” may be one of Anderson’s most complete works and has without a doubt, the most stimulating plot since “The Royal Tenenbaums.” The acting is superb from all involved, from Jeff Goldblum as the surprisingly moral lawyer, to Willem Dafoe as the terrifying muscle-man of the films antagonist family. “The Grand Budapest Hotel” not only fits well into Anderson’s already established career, but may turn out to be one of the highlights.

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