The Grand Budapest Hotel Page #5

Another waiter arrives to uncork a split of champagneand pours a thimbleful. Mr. Moustafa tastes it and nods.

The waiter pours two, full coupes. They each drink along sip. Finally, Mr. Moustafa settles in:

MR. MOUSTAFA

It begins, as it must, with our mutualfriend’s predecessor. The beloved,

original concierge of the Grand Budapest.

(with deep affection)

It begins, of course, with -

9.

TITLE:

Part 1:
“M. Gustave”

INT. SITTING ROOM. DAY

The early thirties. A double-reception salon with highceilings and two couches. There are six trunks and eightsuitcases arranged neatly at the side of the room. Eachis painted with the initials Mdm. C.V.D.u.T. Outside, alight snow falls.

A tall, blond, forty-year-old concierge stands patientlyalone surveying the room. He is tranquil, perfectlycomposed, waiting. He wears the faintest hint ofmascara. He is M. Gustave.

M. Gustave crosses swiftly to the door and opens it justas a contingent of hotel staff arrives together fromdown the corridor. There are two waiters, two footmen,

two bellboys, and an Arab teenager, small, cheerful, andalert, who appears to be some kind of page. He is Zero.

One of the waiters carries a table, and one carries abreakfast tray. M. Gustave ushers them in:

M. GUSTAVE

Bring the table to the window.

FIRST WAITER:

Yes, M. Gustave.

M. GUSTAVE

Bring the tray to the table.

SECOND WAITER:

Right away, M. Gustave.

M. GUSTAVE

(pointing to two hats)

Have those been brushed and blocked?

FOOTMAN:

Of course, M. Gustave.

M. GUSTAVE

Pack them in the hat boxes.

(pointing to a shopping bag)

Is that from Oberstdorf and Company?

BELLBOY:

I believe so, M. Gustave.

M. GUSTAVE

Second trunk. Who has the tickets?

10.

Zero raises his hand.

ZERO:

I do, M. Gustave.

M. GUSTAVE

Give them to me.

Zero hands M. Gustave a set of train tickets. M. Gustave

studies them carefully. He nods and points.

M. GUSTAVE

These are in order. Wait in the corner.

Zero retreats. M. Gustave strides to the bedroom door,

raps on it briefly, then swings it open.

M. GUSTAVE

Good morning, Madame. Your breakfast isserved. The sitting room is a battlefieldat the moment, but rest assured, you willbe en route in precisely -(

checks his watch)

-- eleven minutes. You look heavenly.

Pray be seated.

An immaculately-dressed, eighty-year-old woman emergesfrom the bedroom, nimble, brisk -- and highly agitated.

She is Madame D. She is followed by two young women, alady’s maid and a private secretary, who quickly jointhe hubbub fidgeting with trunks and rushing to-and-fropreparing for their departure.

M. Gustave waits for Madame D. to sit, then joins her;

at which point, she immediately leans across to him andsays in a gravely serious, urgent whisper:

MADAME D.

I’m not leaving.

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