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 (V.O.) It seemed to be an essential part of his duties, but I believe it was also his pleasure. MONTAGE: A succession ofdamesof varyinggrandeursseen 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 hair-net 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 (V.O.) 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
The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)
MR. MOUSTAFA
A screenplay character in The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014).
- lines
- 14
- words
- 1,872
- scenes
- 5
- dialogue
- 13%
- avg words / line
- 134
- shortest / longest
- 6 / 321
source review flagged 1 dialogue line
Sample dialogue
His own dinner, he took alone in his room. CUT TO: M. Gustave seated at a folding table in a room nearly identical to Zero’s but with a connecting sitting room and kitchenette. He wears his uniform trousers and a white undershirt. He eats a bowl of cereal while listening to classical music on a radio-set. There are approximately twenty-five identical bottles of cologne on a shelf above the sink in the background. Each is labelledL’air de Panache, Pure Musk. EXT. FRONT ENTRANCE. DAY A large sedan with tire-chains arrives through the snow and parks in front of the hotel. A sign next to five stars on the side of the hood reads: Grand Budapest Hotel. One of the back doors opens, and a tall man in a double-breasted suit emerges. He carries a briefcase and wears a pointy beard. He is Deputy Kovacs. He hurries to the top of the steps where M. Gustave waits to greet him. MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.) The identity of the owner of the hotel was unknown to all of us. Each month, his emissary, known as Deputy Kovacs, arrived to review the books and convey messages on behalf of the mysterious proprietor. INT. LOBBY. DAY Zero, substituting at the concierge desk, looks up to a high window across the room where the shadowy figures of M. Gustave and Deputy Kovacs meet in a storage pantry. A clerk with a pot-belly flips the pages in a ledger-book and takes notes. He is Herr Becker. MR. MOUSTAFA (V.O.) On these occasions, M. Gustave and our business manager, Herr Becker, met with him in private consultation above Reception. CUT TO: A plain, graceful, seventeen-year-old beanpole with freckles and a birthmark the shape of Mexico on the side of her face. She is Agatha. She works a rolling-pin over a wide expanse of flattened pastry-dough. There are carts circled around her filled with trays of exceptionally well-made, beautifully-decorated pastries
scene 7 — INT. LOBBY. DAYIn the end, they shot him.
scene 48 — INT. CORRIDOR. DAY“The painter’s brush touched the inchoate face by ends of nimble bristles -- and, with that blush of first color, rendered her lifeless cheek, living; though languish --” As the poetry begins, some of the diners’ eye glaze over and there are faint sighs. Mr. Moustafa continues his narration:
scene 7 — INT. LOBBY. DAYThank you! ZERO It’s a book. AGATHA
scene 19 — INT. CINEMA. NIGHTThe next morning, Herr Becker received a peculiar, last-minute-notice from the office of Deputy Kovacs: postponing their scheduled meeting -- in perpetuity. TITLE: Three Days Later EXT. VILLAGE. NIGHT A nearly-empty bus squeals to a stop behind a quiet inn in the middle of a deserted hamlet and deposits Zero on the road-side. He carries a knapsack and is dressed like a vagabond. The bus drives off. Zero wanders to the middle of the cobblestone lane. He looks down at a rusty manhole. He looks up at the prison- castle across the way, high above the village. He checks his watch. INT. CELL. NIGHT M. Gustave, Pinky, Günther, Wolf, and Ludwig all lie quietly in their bunks with the sheets pulled up to their necks. Faraway voices shout and echo eerily. A guard walks through the section slamming doors and throwing bolts. With a series of loud thumps, block-by- block, the lights go out, and the prison goes dark. Silence. Ludwig whispers: LUDWIG Let’s blow! The cell launches into soundless activity: bed-linens are whisked away, the table is carried into the corner, and a row of floor-planks is carefully lifted. M. Gustave, Pinky, Günther, Wolf, and Ludwig are all dressed like vagabonds already and carry various sacks and baskets. One-by-one, they disappear into the floor. A pair of hands, at the rear, reaches up to replace the planks. INT. CRAWL-SPACE. NIGHT M. Gustave, Pinky, Günther, Wolf, and Ludwig advance on all fours, single-file, through a low, moldy sub- structure. INT. TOWER. NIGHT A small window in a stone wall. Ludwig gently taps-loose four pre-cut iron bars with one of the small hammers. INSERT:
scene 27 — INT. LOBBY. DAY
Bookends
So it all went to me. Mr. Moustafa smiles sadly. He and the author begin to eat their confections in silence. They appear to enjoy them very much. INT. LOBBY. NIGHT The room is deserted, and the lights have been dimmed. Mr. Moustafa and the author wait at the concierge desk. It is not occupied. AUTHOR (V.O.) After dinner, we went to collect the keys to our rooms -- but M. Jean had abandoned his post. Mr. Moustafa looks around. He shrugs. He says, bittersweet: MR. MOUSTAFA I expect he’s forgotten all about us. Mr. Moustafa winks at the author and slips around behind the concierge desk. AUTHOR (V.O.) In recent years, of course, such properties and holdings as the Grand Budapest had with very few exceptions become -- common property.