Amateur taxidermy and other flights of fancy
Ex-opera singer, nihilist typesetter, down and out actress – our stay at Secret Cinema’s Grand Budapest Hotel offered us the rare opportunity to luge into a labyrinth of extravagance and absurdity.
We arrived at a secret destination in our finery, ready to experience the film in glorious technicolour before sitting down to watch it in a specially constructed auditorium. And experience we did. Clambering aboard the funicular, we were carried up the slopes in Zubrokwa to the faded grandeur of the hotel itself, full of eccentric characters, intoxicating cocktails, hidden passageways and adventurous goings on.
Leading lady, supporting actor or humble extra, you could be whoever you want to be; truly the great escape. Whether you’d rather blend into the crowd or vent brashly at a concierge, every guest embellished the fabric of the event.
The rare opportunity to luge into a labyrinth of extravagance and absurdity.
With a chance to interact and immerse, Helen found herself wooed by the brace-legged lobby boy, Clare yodeled on an alpine mountain tour and Nicola’s taxidermist alter-ego narrowly lost out on her inheritance – left only with such astute truisms as ‘never eat shredded wheat’.
A world created by Wes Anderson, elevated by Secret Cinema and populated by everyone’s imaginations is certainly one we’d like to visit more often.
A candied, whimsically tragic comedy iced with indulgent detail. Bravo, Secret Cinema, Bravo.
