The Phoenician Scheme Review 

Another dose of bright colours and symmetrical filmmaking with culture vulture Wes Anderson. His quality is our enjoyment, and this thrill is found in The Phoenician Scheme, which has the director build on the already established sights and sounds. He plays the hits not because they are easy to adapt, but because that knowable design is a foundation to the more abstract events unfolding in this Benicio del Toro-starring feature. It may take some getting used to, the repetition of throwaway lines, the sparse and obtuse meaning behind the featuring of certain characters, but it makes sense, even when most of its parts are bent out of shape or cast aside. Blink and you’ll miss it moments from most involved. Anderson has dealt with excess in his lead characters, but never, truly, the consequence of those whose excess has blinded them.  

The Grand Budapest Hotel had luxury as a reward, albeit a temporary one. The French Dispatch had the satisfaction of longevity as the purpose for its characters. For Zsa-Zsa Korda (del Toro), the reward is connection. The Phoenician Scheme uses its titular plan as a ploy for heartfelt dramatics. Anderson pulling the rug from under the lead? Shocking. But he does so with conviction and plays around with the fundamentals of his craft enough to entice a few thrills and changes. This is Anderson reckoning with the higher power, something which is more easily accessed with a simple route through, where riches are exploitable and blind the righteous. Enough of that is carried by Del Toro, and the dynamic between this Korda character and Sister Liesl (Mia Threapleton) is subtle, teased with blunt force, but satisfying all the same. Anderson is playing the hits, after all. Be it in the form of Willem Dafoe and Bill Murray, severed from the true narrative and exposed in the dream-like, experimental sequences which widen the abstract, or with that borderline whimsy in Tom Hanks-featuring scenes, it works.  

Allusions to death and defiance of it, despite the finality, is the underlying theme filtered into The Phoenician Scheme. Achingly heavy-handed yet likeable all the same. Anderson shows flickers of change, of experimenting in the editing room to twist not the narrative, but its purpose. He does so with the flair expected of him, but a tinge of the macabre. It goes unsolved, but the various untied threads throughout The Phoenician Scheme feel rewarding all the same. A more than capable lead and a few straggling characters which play to a singular characteristic, the overwhelming salutation-filled Marty (Jeffrey Wright) or the cold and depthless Cousin Hilda (Scarlett Johansson), feel like stop-off exposition pockets which serve leading man del Toro. There is a tunnel vision at play from Anderson, and it leads to some lacklustre payoffs and rushed endings as he tries to cram his meanings and musings into sub-two-hours.  

For all those problems and wide, sweeping statements, though, The Phoenician Scheme is a delightful continuation of new age Anderson. He takes a similar note from the message seen in Asteroid City and amplifies it. A colourful and creative piece, no surprise there, but one crafted with the same heart found in each of his movies. Threapleton and Michael Cera are the main draws here, scene-stealing quality from both while del Toro is tied up in interpretations of death, of God and mercy. It is a neat balance, though it does feel short-changed and, at times, aimless. The Phoenician Scheme barely attends to the narrative at play, though it serves the story of a mastermind criminal making up his master plan on the fly neatly. One for the Anderson faithful, sure, but it is one of his most open and moving films to date. A blur of his love for extremes which are perfected in his animated efforts, adapted to the screen with the same, slightly disjointed and still-lovable style of his most recent works.