It asks the audience to look at a pastel cake box and realize it contains a tombstone. It asks us to laugh at a man falling down a mountain on a sled while understanding that the man chasing him is a literal Nazi.
(Tony Revolori), the lobby boy who becomes his most trusted friend.
Zero, played with wide-eyed earnestness by Tony Revolori, serves as the audience's entry point. He is an orphan, a refugee with nothing to lose, and everything to learn. The chemistry between Fiennes and Revolori is the engine that drives the film. When Gustave defends Zero against the brutality of the police or the military, it is a defense of innocence itself
: The film is an "artistic manifesto" for Anderson, inspired heavily by the writings of Austrian author Stefan Zweig .
So, the next time you see a photo of that pink hotel facade, remember: It isn’t just a set. It is a monument to friendship, a prayer for the dead, and the greatest heist movie ever wrapped in a tragedy. To quote M. Gustave: "There are still faint glimmers of civilization left in this barbaric slaughterhouse that was once known as humanity." This film is one of those glimmers.