"The Phoenician Scheme" Review
Wes is back (if he ever left)
SPOILER FREE
As a die-hard Wes Anderson fan and defender, The Phoenician Scheme was one of my most anticipated movies of the year. Anderson’s last two movies, The French Dispatch and Asteroid City were masterfully crafted but received a lot of criticism for being “style over substance.” This critique is one Anderson has faced for years and frustrates me to my core. However, after The Phoenician Scheme, the “style over substance” argument falls flat.
This film features the same style hallmarks we’ve grown to expect from Anderson: symmetry, perfectly curated overhead shots, beautiful sets, and pastels. These features make a lovely movie, but they also propel the story at the center of The Phoenician Scheme forward.
Benicio del Toro stars as the cut-throat international tycoon Zsa-Zsa Korda with his daughter Liesl, portrayed by Mia Threapleton. Throughout the film, Zsa-Zsa attempts to seal one last big deal to keep him wealthy forever, but he struggles to balance his own impulses with the approval and love of his daughter. Liesl is becoming a nun and deeply resents the abandonment and behavior of her father but believes she can turn his resources into good. On this quest, both discover more about their own character and identity, creating a more complex relationship than either initially expected.
Anderson frequently dives into themes of familial dysfunction, but this is perhaps his most profound and raw since The Royal Tenenbaums. While their circumstances are fantastical, Zsa-Zsa and Liesl grapple with feelings many people face. Liesl wonders where she comes from and how much it defines her; Zsa-Zsa ponders his mortality and what his legacy is worth.
The artifice of Anderson’s style creates the hollow shell where this family can operate. It feels overly designed and inauthentic because everything about Zsa-Zsa is such. The moments of authentic connection let go of all the beautiful things in favor of more intimate spaces. These spaces are, of course, carefully curated by Anderson, but the way he fills them is markedly different. The shots linger on faces, warmer light fills the rooms, and the objects seem typical. By the end, Liesl and Zsa-Zsa share a drink and cards in a practically decorated kitchen. That setting is a far cry from the gigantic, empty room with cool lighting where the story began.
Along with the use of style, del Toro and Threapleton’s performances also bring The Phoenician Scheme to a new level. Zsa-Zsa was written for del Toro, and he does the part justice. His intimidating presence fills the screen, emitting foolish confidence. However, he can soften the edges when necessary. Threapleton delivers the dead-pan dialogue expertly while also imbuing Liesl with the perfect balance of confidence and trepidation.
A few other notable performances include Michael Cera as the tutor Bjorn, Benedict Cumberbatch as Uncle Nubar, and Mathieu Amalric as Marseille Bob. While this is Cera’s first collaboration with Anderson, he seems made for Anderson’s awkward, dry sense of humor.
The Phoenician Scheme gave me a lot to chew, and I doubt this will be my last time reflecting on its style and themes. My biggest hope is that this film will put the Wes Anderson haters to rest… but I know that’s likely too much to ask.
In the meantime, I recommend The Phoenician Scheme to those who love beautiful things, dry humor, and stories of imperfect families.