“A terrific little fable about the importance of preserving legacies and maintaining the history of long-standing institutions.”

There’s nothing quite like staying in a thoroughly mediocre hotel – decent enough to serve as shelter, but still too off-kilter to be entirely comfortable. What is often quite fascinating is the process of running such an establishment, since even the most lacklustre of hotels tend to have a specific style of operations, which can be appealing for those with a certain kind of curiosity. One such person is Gastón Solnicki, who uses this as the foundation for The Souffleur, his wickedly funny and deeply compelling dark comedy in which we voyage to the halls of the Intercontinental Hotel, a large establishment that overlooks Vienna. There we follow the day-to-day operations of the staff, led by the congenial but slightly eccentric hotel manager Lucius, who has to juggle both staff-related tensions and customer-based concerns, all the while coming to terms with the imminent closure of the establishment after it is purchased by a wealthy Argentinian investor who intends to demolish a building that has stood for over half a century. A film with a wonderful sense of humour and an assured direction that feels earnest and sincere while also managing to be bitingly entertaining from beginning to end, The Souffleur is a terrific little fable about the importance of preserving legacies and maintaining the history of long-standing institutions (both physical and metaphorical), even those which seem to be entirely unremarkable from a distance.

At a glance, The Souffleur appears to be a simple film whose intentions are entirely direct – an upstairs-downstairs comedy about the daily routine of running a hotel, in particular one that is not considered luxurious by any means, but still has a strong reputation that it needs to maintain. Even at this basic level, it’s incredibly endearing, particularly in the effort it makes to develop its core ideas, which gradually become deeper and more moving once the layers begin to reveal themselves. The precise reasoning for using what appears to be a real hotel as the setting for this is not clear, since while the film does show it in a more positive light, it’s not the glowing endorsement that we’d expect, demonstrating that it is not always easy to run such an establishment, and that there are inevitably going to be flaws. Yet, it also does add a degree of nuance, since this is not a film set masquerading as a hotel – the detail we find in every frame is intentional and sincere, drawing us into this story, which gradually unfurls into a wonderfully engrossing exploration of how even a building can develop a personality of its own, with the Intercontinental being as much a character as the staff and guests who we spend time with throughout this film. The themes are direct and conventional, but are nonetheless quite effective under the director’s assured vision.

With a premise as straightforward and unfurnished as this, it’s important to pay attention to details, as those essentially define whether or not such a film is going to be successful. Solnicki is clearly not interested in being too ambitious, preferring a simpler and subdued approach to bringing this story to life. His first port-of-call is in the ensemble, which is led by Willem Dafoe in yet another wonderfully engaging, heartfelt performance. Playing an optimistic hotel manager trying to keep his head above water as the leader of a large team of employees, we find a lot of symmetry between this character and the one he played in The Florida Project, particularly in how Dafoe is surrounded by amateur actors and newcomers, being the veteran in a cast of people who have not acted much in the past, but who instead bring a sense of authenticity and charm that could not be mimicked. The filmmaking itself is nothing remarkable, but it does prove that simplicity can be more effective than innovation in certain contexts, especially when handled with as much care and attention to detail as we see here. Tonally, the film is very upbeat, but there’s an undercurrent of melancholy that gradually develops as the film progresses, becoming genuinely quite engaging, while never trying to be too ambitious.

The only real complaint we can find when discussing The Souffleur is that, at less than 80 minutes in length, there’s not enough time to spend with each of these characters, which is a credit to both the sharp, witty script and the exceptional work of the entire cast. However, even with such a short running time, the film feels fully formed and charming, a complete narrative that tells a compelling story about a group of people united by a common goal, setting out to accomplish what most may consider to be impossible. Solnicki has only made a small handful of films, but his skill as both a writer and director is emphasised throughout this film, which is a clear evolution of the work he has done previously – he crafts a delicate, funny story that may touch on some familiar themes, but still feels fresh and exciting under his vision. The direction may not be extravagant, but it’s clear and concise, never wasting a single moment and prioritising the art of brevity better than most recent comedies, which would have likely drawn this story out to the point of being exhausting. There’s inherent value in knowing when to stop, and The Souffleur is a perfect example of this in practice – a simple comedy that delivers solid punchlines and finds time for some sentimentality, while also never being too heavy-handed in terms of its emotions. It understands where to draw the line, and makes sure to check out right on time, never overstaying its welcome and essentially just being a wholeheartedly delightful affair from the very first moment.