Grand Tour (2024)
Grand Tour by Miguel Gomes is visually stunning. It’s also conceptually ambitious. It combines historical drama, travelogue, and experimental cinema to make a wide-ranging meditation about culture, memory, and the legacy of colonialism. The backdrop for the story is South-east Asia in the twentieth century. We follow Edward, who is a British diplomat. He’s engaged to be married but suddenly gets cold feet and runs away across the continent. Molly, his fiancée, decides to chase him by retracing his steps. This makes for a story that swings between their parallel journeys and the various landscapes they travel through. The story is actually less about resolution and more about the pair moving through time, geography, and emotional states.
The film’s historical and cultural context has lots of layers. Gomes juxtaposes settings from the colonial era alongside contemporary footage of the same regions. By doing this, he explores how cultural identity remains even during change over time. Gomes also uses colonial tropes in a playful way, like a circular spot on the screen zooming in or out to highlight a change of scenery, or really melodramatic performances while he is critiquing the way these locations have been over-exoticised. But even though these techniques and strategies are used, the film can’t really escape the accusation of orientalism. The story really is just another version of European characters travelling like tourists through “foreign” lands.
Grand Tour seems to want to be a feast for the senses—and succeeds at that. It’s shot in 16mm film, and the grainy texture makes it feel authentic—in both period reconstruction and the vignettes of the modern day. The cinematography moves between black-and-white sequences that remind us of the glamour of the early Hollywood era. And the colour scenes vibrantly document modern life in a way that feels very immediate. There are a couple of standout moments. There are slow-motion shots of the chaotic scooter traffic in Saigon with “The Blue Danube Waltz” as background music. This particular scene illustrates how the movie is able to find beauty in what we would normally see as mundane. A soundstage has been used to recreate the older colonial interiors. And the on-location footage contrasts with those with their bustling streets and landscapes that are serene.
Grand Tour has a very theatrical feel, and the performances by the actors match that tone. Gonçalo Waddington, who plays Edward, effectively captures his character’s indecision and emotional detachment. Crista Alfaiate brings a mix of determination and vulnerability to Molly. Their chemistry is deliberately low key. This reflects the emotional distance between the two characters rather than any romantic connect. The supporting cast, who are often local people in the parts of the film that are like documentary segments, add a level of authenticity and texture to the story.
Another highlight is the soundtrack. It blends traditional Asian instruments with classical Western music to illustrate the contrasting themes of the story. But the editing often feels disjointed, which, I suppose, is meant to reflect the fragmented exploration of time and place. But it did test my patience. The pacing is inconsistent. Some of the sequences are too long and focus on atmosphere rather than keeping the story moving along.
Overall, Grand Tour is quite evocative, but I don’t think this film will be for everyone. It will, I think, reward viewers who are patient with those moments of profound beauty and insight. This is another movie where the experimental nature of it won’t suit everyone. Grand Tour is more like a mosaic than a cohesive linear story. But if you’re willing to embrace its quirkiness, you might find things to admire about it. If you’re someone who is attracted to movies that subvert conventional storytelling and give you an escape of the senses, it might be worth your ticket price.