‘The Phoenician Scheme’ Review: Wes Anderson Weighs in on the Art of the Deal, and Assorted Other Funny Business

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In the past, wealthy entrepreneurs similar to Wes Anderson’s fictional character Zsa-zsa Korda often bent the rules, accumulated their fortunes, and secretly arranged succession strategies for the empires they had established. Nowadays, these individuals are in positions of power, running countries. However, it would be misleading to infer a significant political message from Anderson’s recent work, “The Phoenician Scheme.” Instead, this film is a playful take on such a magnate, offering an intricate and entertaining family story. It also functions as a heartwarming father-daughter narrative. Ultimately, the film appears to be more focused on delving into the capitalist spirit of 20th-century robber barons than examining its repercussions.

Drawing inspiration from influential figures such as J. Paul Getty, J.P. Morgan, and a late relative of Anderson’s wife (Fouad Mikhael Malouf), the “The Phoenician Scheme” elevates Benicio del Toro from a supporting role in 2021’s “The French Dispatch” to the main character within the Anders universe. Notably, Mia Threapleton makes a substantial debut as Zsa-zsa’s daughter with a porcelain visage (and aspiring novitiate nun) named Leisl, joining the growing roster of Anderson’s production company.

In my film enthusiast’s perspective, del Toro carries off the sharp and sophisticated look remarkably well as Korda, a character who blends charm with a hint of danger. Draped in tailored double-breasted suits, sporting slicked-back salt-and-pepper hair, and always accompanied by a wooden crate of hand grenades, Korda’s allegiance to any specific nation is questionable, yet his business ventures span far and wide. He’s a man surrounded by controversy, with at least one adversary eagerly seeking his downfall.

As a devoted cinephile, I found myself drawn into the cinematic world of Anderson, where the opening moments are filled with suspense reminiscent of Lalo Schifrin’s compositions. The tranquil scene is disrupted as Alexander Desplat’s music underscores an explosion tearing through Korda’s private plane during a low-altitude flight. Unfazed, Korda continues to read his intricate nonfiction book, a choice that would leave many men dozing off. The crash sequence, by Anderson’s standards, is quite the spectacle, albeit depicted in a tracking shot following the smoldering wreckage of the plane as it careens across a cornfield, allowing viewers a glimpse into Korda’s scattered belongings, eliciting chuckles.

Korda has been forced to reconsider his life’s path following this close call with mortality. He now finds himself with two main objectives: reconciling with his daughter who remains unforgiving towards Zsa-zsa for any involvement in their mother’s demise, and advancing his most daring undertaking yet. This endeavor encompasses a three-part infrastructure plan that includes the Trans-mountain Locomotive Tunnel, the Trans-desert Inland Waterway, and the Trans-basin Hydroelectric Embankment. These projects are as unremarkable in detail as their names might suggest.

In “The Phoenician Scheme,” Korda navigates a financial void threatening his ambitious project, taking him across a fictional nation resembling the Arabian Peninsula (Modern Greater Independent Phoenicia), accompanied by Leisl and her petite Swedish tutor Bjorn (Michael Cera). It’s the year 1950, sandwiched between the releases of “Citizen Kane” and “Lawrence of Arabia,” and the essence of these two legends permeates this production, albeit in a smaller format that suits Anderson well. Similar to many of Anderson’s dignified patriarchs, from Royal Tenenbaum to Steve Zissou, Korda is a figure who inspires both respect and derision – a paradoxical stance that allows Anderson to seamlessly blend sincerity with caricature.

In a more straightforward manner, I’d express it like this: “Compared to the unconventional narrative structure of his latest work, ‘Asteroid City’, Alejandro González Iñárritu’s ‘The Phoenician Scheme’ presents a less whimsically quirky approach. However, it remains just as thought-provoking. Once again, Iñárritu skillfully blends profound existential questions into a humorous narrative. Every frame is brimming with comedic nuances designed to entertain his viewers, yet beneath the laughter lies a daring exploration of life’s most pressing questions, such as the meaning and purpose of wealth when it comes at the cost of personal relationships. The character of Korda, in particular, grapples with a situation reminiscent of Dickensian struggles: He has accumulated a vast fortune, but at the expense of his family. The question arises, what value does his wealth hold if he misses out on the most precious aspects of life?

Upon Liesl’s return, Zsa-zsa hasn’t adapted yet. He invites her to sit and shares that if one of his adversaries manages to harm him, the Korda estate will be inherited by her – though this potential future nun may not have much use for it as she plans to discard all material belongings once she takes her vows. He then proceeds to reveal the scope of his endeavors, carefully organized in various shoeboxes and spread across the floor in Anderson’s methodical, almost compulsive manner. The director skillfully creates intricate compositions during this scene, such as a bird’s-eye view of Korda’s bathroom that perfectly fills the frame.

1) It’s hard to imagine what benefit there could be for Leisl, or us, in joining Zsa-zsa on a six-city business tour. In fact, “The Phoenician Scheme” might as well be a dull accountant explaining tax loopholes instead of an exciting movie, considering Anderson’s recent focus on complex contractual details and obscure financial arrangements that are frequently renegotiated through basketball games and secret meetings. However, it’s important to remember that the intricate plot points are just a distraction, while the developing relationship between Leisl and her scoundrel of a father is the main event in this story.

The director enlists previous collaborators such as Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Mathieu Amalric, Scarlett Johansson, and a bearded Benedict Cumberbatch to portray the different individuals Korda needs to persuade to cover part of the budget shortfall. However, Korda, whose dialogue del Toro speaks with a similar steady rhythm as Bill Murray in various Anderson roles, is too disturbed by mystical visions to fully commit to the task at hand. On five distinct occasions, usually triggered by near-fatal accidents, Zsa-zsa has vivid black-and-white dream sequences that resemble scenes from a Sergei Parajanov film (imagine “The Color of Pomegranates,” but without color, with appearances from Murray, Willem Dafoe, and Charlotte Gainsbourg).

Instead of brushing off these interludes as nonsensical, take a moment to appreciate the intricate detail that Anderson has woven into each scene. There’s a deeper meaning lurking beneath, even though it may be too complex for many viewers to comprehend, given the director’s enigmatic symbolism. Similarly, the artworks scattered throughout the movie are of museum-worthy quality. As Korda puts it, “Don’t buy good paintings. Buy masterpieces,” echoing the sentiments of all those tycoons (from Getty to Hearst) who amassed fortunes by accumulating priceless treasures.

In essence, Anderson appears to be using the film as a means to explore life’s purpose on a deeply personal level, reflecting not only as an artist but also as a father and husband to someone with a prominent family background. Anderson’s distinctive style, unique to him alone, has been a notable feature in his work. However, it is the introduction of introspection that seems to be a new addition, which adds depth to his earlier, more surface-level films. This introspection helps balance Korda’s intense business dealings by providing context.

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2025-05-18 20:47