For his latest feature, Wes Anderson pushes his quirky vision to what may be a new high for him. He combines the multitude of different filming techniques he's become so well-known for, both old and new (symmetrical cinematography, stop-motion/miniatures, etc.), into what is truly his most technically impressive film to date. The key to The Grand Budapest Hotel (no pun intended) that it gets right where his previous film struggled is making sure there's a story worth telling with this technical prowess as a backdrop. Pulling a complete one-eighty from the often cold tale of childhood love in Moonrise Kingdom, this time around Anderson has crafted a zany story-within-a-story murder mystery that is perhaps his funniest film to date. Anderson, of course, has always been a master of dry black humor, but much of the reason this film is so unflinchingly hilarious is the cast he's gathered to tell his story. The ensemble consists of too many names to list but all of whom are predictably great (most of whom are frequent Anderson collaborators), but the two standouts are brand new to being in front of an Anderson-operated camera: that is, Ralph Fiennes and newcomer Tony Revolori. Fiennes' dry wit and comedic timing is impeccable for an actor whose work has been primarily rooted in serious drama, and Revolori perfectly captures the awkwardness that feels like a cinematic extension of Anderson himself. It's easy to go on and on about how comedically perfect of a film this is, and ignoring the fact that Anderson never sacrifices emotion for a laugh. At the undercurrent of all the wackiness is a genuine feeling of romanticism and loss: the fact that Anderson can balance such opposing themes really is a testament to his capabilities as a storyteller, and in that regard, it's certainly not a stretch to call this his magnum opus.