Deconstructing Wes Anderson's 'Hotel Chevaleir'

When we received the introduction to our new unit, Sharron screened a Wes Anderson short Hotel Chevaleir. Funded purely by Anderson and originally intended to be a stand alone piece of work, and what soon forced Natalie Portman to swear off nudes, he later coupled it with The Darjeeling Limited, 2007 as its prologue.

 For a moment, let's just pretend that it is stand alone. Especially considering Fox Searchlight hadn't the foggiest between the connection until after The Darjeeling Limited was made. Apparently they shared no interest in the short financially either, it being legally available for free online. Anyway, in which case, both characters remain unnamed and their issues unclear, as separate individuals to their feature cameo counterparts.

 Hotel Chevalier surrounds a couple going through a rough patch. Jason Schwartzman's character having attempted to escape the relationship for a while, hiding himself away in a hotel room. Natalie Portman's character, having shown up at his room with flowers of forgiveness, as I'll call them, in hand, suggesting that there is a want for a reconciliation between the two to perhaps salvage their alleged romantic relationship.

 We never actually discover what went wrong, or even how long the issues had been going on for. From the mysterious bruises on Portman's arm, to the extremity of Schwartzman's character feeling it necessary to become reclusive in a hotel for ages. In fact, from what we're shown at least, neither of these two seem to know what is going on in their relationship themselves. Portman's character straight out asking "What the fuck is going on?", notably the only usage of profanity as emphasis, suggesting this. In regards to the expletive, it expresses the beginnings of anger, however, apart from this one, isolated instance, that emotion is never explored further. In fact, the film in general is rather emotionless, where the both characters speak in monotones, being very awkward around each other. Neither of them seem to know what they want to do or how to proceed. Or, rather, neither of them know what they should do; they certainly know what they want to do, but are reluctant as it is possible that it isn't really a good idea.

 They do still care about each other, this is highly evident to me. However, it is also highly evident that the two lovers are hesitant to show it. Schwartzman's character's hotel room is so fake yet so casual and lived-in, he is evidently lonely. When his (ex-)girlfriend calls, he doesn't emote very much, but we can tell that he is unsure of what he feels he should do; there is only a mere implication that he doesn't want her to visit, but he does not put up a fight at all. He tells her his room number straight away, and pretends to think about his response. He most certainly does want her, but will he admit that to himself? He wants to appear stronger than that, perhaps. Regardless of what is going on in their relationship, or what sort of relationship it is, it's unhealthy behaviour for everybody involved.

Yellow is obviously prominent. It smacks you square in the jaw without a notion of an apology. On its own, yellow can uphold the symbolism of wealth, happiness, and associated with the sun which provides life and light. It also, however, promotes negative feelings in turn, such as envy and jealousy, and a lack of courage. In Hotel Chevalier, it means every one of those. The more positive traits that the colour yellow has to offer appears more as a contrast than anything to these characters, but cowardice and jealousy is certainly ripe here.

 Despite getting two viewings out of this in class on Thursday, I could not, for the life of me, actually hear most of the dialogue. Poor speaker equipment, people talking around me, or a combination of the two, but I'm actually glad because it meant that I experienced a slightly different interpretation of the short. Putting aside dialogue that hints what this is, we are never certain about the situation in the film at all, ever. As well as that, my initial interpretation helps me to make sense of how emotionless the characters were towards each other. I had assumed that the relationship was more to that of a casual one, wherein the two frequently engage in sexual fun, as opposed to more loving kind. Maybe I'm just bitter and that's why I interpreted it that way, but it does make a lot of sense to me by adopting it in this way.

 It's still something that many people view as taboo and out of the ordinary when it isn't really. Both characters know what they want and what they desire from each other, but nothing more than that. Portman's portrayal in this instance shows a character who, when she wants something, she'll take it without hesitance. Schwartzman's, on the other hand, knows what he wants, but is indecisive over whether or not he should indulge. There is a Seductive Muse air about Portman's character from this perspective as a result; an openly sexual woman. Her lover puts on the facade that he is on this level; an attempt at expressing rational thought to her when his facial expressions never correspond with what he says, unlike Portman who gives off the occasional cheeky smirk. She's confident in this, he is not. His responses to her (or lack thereof) would suggest a lack of care towards his lover, which she is not afraid to show, because neither of them actually know where they stand with one another; this is deemed an odd relationship because it isn't a real relationship in the traditional sense, and they both know this.

 The relationship that isn't real is presented to us in a that has an almost 'dream doll house' like vibe about it. It is not to be forgotten, however, that is not his, despite looking very lived in, the key word in that phrase is synonymous with the word 'fantasy'. It's not real; none of it is. It happens behind unofficial closed doors, but there is a touch of guilt among the characters involves; this isn't a conformity but they still don't know what's going on or, at least, can't quite seem to get on the same page as one another for very long.

 I actually found it fascinating in that sense, and could really see how it links in with our theme of dislocation. It's full of chaos, and everything is everywhere, so nothing can ever be pieced together effectively enough for it all to make sense to the characters. It may be obvious to the people watching it - the audience - but it's never quite as simple with those who are dealing with their dislocated issue.