The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)
Jude Law: Young Writer
Young Writer : Is it simply your last connection to that banished world - his world, if you will?
Mr. Moustafa : His world? No, I don't think so. You see, we shared a vocation, it wouldn't have been necessary. No, the hotel I keep for Agatha. We were happy here, for a little while. To be frank, I think his world had vanished long before he ever entered it. But I will say, he certainly sustained the illusion with a marvelous grace.
Mr. Moustafa : [Recounting his memories of M. Gustave at the Budapest Hotel] I began to realize that many of the hotel's most valued and distinguished guests came for him. It seemed to be an essential part of his duties... But I believe it was also his pleasure. The requirements were always the same. They had to be rich, old, insecure, vain, superficial, blonde, needy.
Young Writer : Why blonde?
Mr. Moustafa : Because they all were.
Young Writer : At this point in the story, the old man fell silent and pushed away his saddle of lamb. His eyes went blank as two stones. I could see he was in distress. "Are you ill, Mr. Mustafa?" I finally asked.
Mr. Moustafa : Oh dear me, no.
Young Writer : He said.
Mr. Moustafa : It's only that I don't know how to proceed.
Young Writer : He was crying!
Mr. Moustafa : You see, I never speak of Agatha, because even at the thought of her name I'm unable to control my emotions.
[wipes the tears]
Mr. Moustafa : Well, I suppose there's no way around it. You see, she saved us.