The Phoenician Scheme
One of the saddest things in the world is falling out of love with someone — I just never thought it could happen to me and Wes Anderson. This solemn realisation occurred to me last night, while texting with my dad about movies we’d seen recently.
“We saw a funny, strange movie at [Luna] SX last night…The Phoenician Scheme..lots of good actor cameos….felt like I was watching a Monty Python film.” – Dad, via text
I’d already seen the film and had been stewing in my lukewarm feelings for a few days, so Dad’s positive review came as a surprise. I’m fairly confident that he doesn’t have the faintest idea who Wes Anderson is either, but stumbled upon the film thanks to proximity and a free Sunday arvo. Yet, in one ellipses-heavy sentence, he perfectly encapsulated what it is about Wes’ new film The Phoenician Scheme (and Asteroid City, and even parts of The French Dispatch) that has led to my crisis of heart.
But before I unpack my vintage Louis Vuitton suitcase of thoughts, allow me to provide some context.
The Phoenician Scheme is described as an “espionage black comedy” written and directed by Wes Anderson from a story he concocted with Roman Coppola. Really, it’s another self-indulgent diorama with a barely coherent story featuring an ever widening ensemble cast and a loose father/daughter dynamic at the centre.
Benicio del Toro plays Anatole “Zsa-zsa” Korda, a shady businessman and grenade enthusiast who, in 1950, escapes yet another assassination attempt when his private jet is taken down. This brush with death (and meeting Willem Dafoe in a black and white heaven) prompts him to consider his line of succession.
He has nine young sons who’ve inherited his love for weapons but unfortunately not his affection. So instead, Zsa-zsa appoints his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton, daughter of Kate Winslet) as his successor “on a trial basis”. Liesl, or Sister Liesl, is a novice nun. She’s very stony faced and deadpan towards her father, which might be because she suspects he was responsible for her mother’s death. Nevertheless, the pair embark on escapades accompanied by Bjørn, a Norwegian entomologist Zsa-zsa hired because bugs, like the mothers of his children, are his recent fascination.
Padding out the plot are a consortium intent on blocking Zsa-zsa’s infrastructure plans for Phoenicia, a distant cousin who Zsa-zsa considers marriage material, an evil brother and classic Wes Anderson aesthetics.
So what is the scheme? Honestly, it’s still unclear to me. As someone who struggles with both geography and economics, I was never going to be able to fully grasp The Phoenician Scheme’s premise. All I know is that, after each of Zsa-zsa’s interactions with other business partners and financiers, a chapter card of sorts pops up with percentages of The Gap, which I take to be some sort of investment term. We have entered the realm of Anderson for accountants.
“A funny, strange movie”
Without realising it, Dad just described every Wes Anderson film.
But it’s not just pastel colour palettes and symmetrical compositions that made Bottle Rocket, Rushmore, The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, The Darjeeling Limited, Fantastic Mr. Fox, Moonrise Kingdom, The Grand Budapest Hotel and Isle of Dogs beloved (if not unanimously) cult-worthy entries in his oeuvre.
To varying degrees of success each of these films, at a minimum, prioritise characterisation, emotion and meaning. Yes, there’s often a whimsical score by Alexandre Desplat and yes, they can be very twee; very “funny and strange”. But there’s something in all of them that you can connect with as a human, whether it’s frustrating sibling dynamics, childhood dreams being quashed or a great affinity for Ralph Fiennes as a concierge.
The Phoenician Scheme might be funny and strange to casual moviegoers who’ve somehow missed the Wes Anderson train but to those who’ve been onboard awhile, the strangeness comes from its hollowness.
It feels like an odd contrivance of Anderson’s previous films rather than an equal entry in his filmography. An imitation of their style but lacking the substance that made them resonate. A lesser person would bring up the irony of generative AI entering the Wes Anderson chat but I, of course, would never do that.
“Lots of good actor cameos”
Dad hit the nail on the head with his wording here because cameos are what many of the performances in this film feel like. Where the old core group of Wilson brothers, Jason Schwartzmans and Bill Murrays were essential characters in his stories, it feels like Wes is winking at the audience every time he serves up an obligatory Scarlett Johansson or Bryan Cranston or Jeffrey Wright or Tom Hanks.
There’s really no reason for Bjørn to be here other than that it’s quirky to have a Norwegian Michael Cera holding a praying mantis.
Benedict Cumberbatch in silly eyebrows is nothing more than Benedict Cumberbatch in silly eyebrows. I hope it was worth the fee.
Credit where credit is due, though; The Phoenician Scheme is not entirely all name, no character. Mia Threapleton is genuinely engaging to watch and gives Liesl an edge that demands attention throughout the film, and Benicio del Toro does his utmost to imbue Zsa-zsa with some heart and personality. The pair have a chemistry that makes up for the scatteredness of the rest of the characters and when it’s just the two of them, The Phoenician Scheme is more interesting.
It’s frustrating that it wasn’t always this way. Wes has pulled off big ensembles before while maintaining well written characterisation; The Royal Tenenbaums and The Grand Budapest Hotel both have extensive ensemble casts but they never distract from the stories being told.
Isle of Dogs and Fantastic Mr. Fox benefit from their animation visually separating their audience from the celebrities but they’re also just better written and more effective in establishing that essential emotional connection.
And perhaps the best example of a beautifully constructed, smaller scale Wes Anderson world is Moonrise Kingdom, a film that stars many big names but always keeps the central relationship of its main characters as its focus.
In prioritising “good actor cameos” in The French Dispatch, Asteroid City and now The Phoenician Scheme, Wes seems to have shifted his focus from stories about people to people about town.
“Like watching a Monty Python film”
He’s done it again! Dad has articulated the very thing that has worked for Wes Anderosn in the past that doesn’t quite in The Phoenician Scheme: frenetic comedy aided by visual beauty.
This time, Wes swaps out longtime cinematographer Robert Yeoman with Amélie cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel. As in his last few films, there are dynamic goings on in each scene and we have our visually pleasing dioramas and precise framing, filmed in beautifully constructed sets within Babelsberg Studio in Germany.
The Phoenician Scheme does look gorgeous; I was admittedly transfixed by the bird’s eye bathroom opening title and Delbonnel’s breathtaking work in Joel Coen’s The Tragedy of Macbeth is reflected in several scenes. But there is a distinct lack of life and vibrancy to the film compared to some of Wes’ previous works and I can’t quite put my finger on why.
The film also suffers from the sketch-like quality that plagued Asteroid City and bits of The French Dispatch in the sense that it feels like a series of perfectly timed and rehearsed scenes strung together to make a film. Lines delivered by some characters are overwhelmingly deadpan (in place of actual characteristics) and it feels like Wes doesn’t give the comedy time to breathe. I think this is where Dad’s Monty Python comparison comes in; by that logic, The Phoenician Scheme is more The Meaning of Life than Life of Brian.
After pondering Dad’s remarks and my own thoughts on the film for some time, I’ve settled in the ambivalent camp of Wes Anderson land, which is pretty much where I’ve been since Asteroid City. Interestingly, The New Yorker describes The Phoenician Scheme as “Anderson’s most sentimental film”, a statement that makes me wonder if I was in the wrong screening. All this to say, you may enjoy The Phoenician Scheme after all.
Verdict
☆☆½
The Phoenician Scheme is in cinemas now.
