Minority Mindset

As a cinephile, I can’t help but be captivated by the story of Zsa-Zsa Korda, the billionaire arms dealer and industrial titan portrayed by Benicio del Toro in Wes Anderson’s newest film, The Phoenician Scheme. After surviving numerous assassination attempts and walking away from his sixth plane crash, it’s clear that Zsa-Zsa is a force of nature. His unyielding determination, which has been the driving force behind his empire, also makes him seemingly invincible. (“If something gets in your way, flatten it,” his father once said to him.)

Recently, Zsa-Zsa has been haunted by visions of the afterlife, reminding him that death is inevitable. In an attempt to leave a lasting legacy, he embarks on a mission to fund grand infrastructure projects across the Middle East. He seeks help from his estranged daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), who is training to be a nun and could potentially inherit his empire.

As they travel together for negotiations, both Zsa-Zsa and Liesl learn from each other. However, their personal growth trajectories differ significantly. Liesl discovers that the life of a nun may not be for her, and she begins to embrace aspects of her father. On the other hand, Zsa-Zsa grapples with understanding the difference between right and wrong. It takes a divine intervention – being told by God himself that slave labor is immoral – for him to realize his mistake.

In the end, after battling his brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch), who represents capitalism personified, Zsa-Zsa funds the infrastructure projects on his own, giving away his immense wealth and instead choosing to run a restaurant with Liesl. The film’s optimistic conclusion offers redemption for a man who has done much wrong, leaving some viewers questioning whether forgiveness should be extended to such an undeserving character.