I finally watched The Grand Budapest Hotel. Funny, charming, beautiful — I really enjoyed it. I appreciate its meticulousness, its attention to detail, its stubborn idiosyncrasy and dedication to its own timelessness. I can see nominating it for Best Picture. I can’t see awarding it Best Picture; for one thing, it’s lighter than air, and for another, so mannered and so relentlessly edited that the actors seem not to have been acting so much as posing. It’s also a little disconcerting, trying to reconcile F. Murray Abraham and Tony Revolori as the same individual. But also it’s a film that doesn’t seem to have been made specifically to win an Oscar, unlike so many of the others on the list. So that’s refreshing.