Illustration by Michael DiMilo
★★★★☆
The Grand Scheme of Things: Review of The Phoenician Scheme
By Geoff Carter
There are certain filmmakers whose work could never be mistaken for another’s. Scorsese, Tarantino, or Spielberg films all bear the obvious fingerprints of their creators, but the stylistic quirks of no auteur is more obvious—or enjoyable—than those of Wes Anderson. Expanding the frame with ornate and sometimes surreal production design, delicious color palettes, and eminently opaque cinematic devices, his films transcend their narrative groundings in reality. They are, first and foremost, self-consciously cinematic. They do not seek to be realistic—at least not in a mimetic sense, nor do they seem to even want to imitate real life.
His films are a combination of beautifully composed frames, carefully colored and presented (as in a picture book or an art gallery), darkly comic turns, and heartfelt regard for his characters. His movies work on a plane beyond the limits of reality but still tethered to it—like a fairy tale—and like fairy tales, they are eminently and undeniably true.
Wes Anderson’s latest work, The Phoenician Scheme, is about Anatole “Zsa Zsa” Korda (Benicio del Toro) a corrupt and amoral industrialist who, because of his ruthlessness, is the constant target of assassination attempts by rivals. After the latest attempt in which his plane is shot down and he has a near-death experience, finding himself at the gates of heaven where a divine court—consisting of Willem Defoe, F. Murray Abraham, and Bill Murray (as God)—judges his worth and finds him lacking.
After he returns to the living, Korda seeks redemption (absolution is probably out of the question) and looks to mend his relationship with his daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), who he sent to a nunnery when she was five years old. He tells her that he plans on making her his only heir, even though he has nine sons (some adopted) who he keeps in a dorm across the street. He wants Liesl to quit the church and join the family business, but she hesitates, accusing him of murdering her mother. Korda then unveils his scheme to overhaul the infrastructure of Phoenicia to Liesl, a plan that entails massive financing and slave labor. To do so, Korda must overcome government forces attempting to stop him by fixing prices of building supplies—which would bankrupt him.
Korda, Liesl, and tutor Bjorn (Michael Cera), who also functions as Korda’s administrative assistant, go to their investors in order to raise money for the project. He tries to trick investors Leland (Tom Hanks) and Reagan (Bryan Cranston) into increasing their investment and is forced to play a game of HORSE for the money—a game which Liesl fixes with divine intervention.
They move on, attempting to get more investment money from Marseilles Bob (Mathieu Almaric) and businessman Marty (Jeffrey Wright). Korda manages to get the money by taking a bullet for Bob and appealing to Marty’s sympathies. After being shot, Korda again has a near-death experience in which he meets his ex-wife who tells him he is not Liesl’s father. Korda believes his half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch) is Liesl’s father and that he killed Liesl’s mother. Liesel is appalled to learn that Korda still does business with Nubar and will be hitting him up for money for the Phoenician project.
When the plane is destroyed on the way home, Korda discovers that Bjorn is actually an industrial spy. Bjorn, however, decides to switch sides over to Korda because he is in love with Liesl, who—bewildered—returns to the convent. Mother Superior (Hope Davis), however, refuses her return.
Korda also attempts to squeeze money from his cousin Hilda (Scarlett Johannson) by asking her to marry him. She agrees but will not increase her investment. Finally reduced to appealing to Nubar for funds, Korda confronts him, and at a party for all the investors, he and his half-brother engage in a fight to the finish. Finally, Korda decides to turn over a new leaf; he ends the slave labor and bankrupts himself to finish the Phoenician project, settling down into a quiet life with Liesl.
While this plot is every bit as convoluted as it sounds, and rushes from point to point like a child shopping at a candy store, the essence of the narrative is obvious—this is a picaresque quest for love, redemption, and money. Each of Korda’s investment stops not only heightens the tension but is also an opportunity for Anderson to construct one of his unique cinematic tableaux. For example, the train stop with Leland and Reagan is an hilarious take on American capitalism and its ties to sports culture. His battle royale with Nubar is a brilliantly choreographed exercise in kinetic screen composition and balance.
Beyond Anderson’s typical forays into dark comedy and stylistic jaunts, The Phoenician Scheme also addresses very real questions of morality—and mortality. After his visit with the heavenly tribunal, Korda is compelled to name his heir Liesl and to establish the Phoenician project as his legacy. While Korda still persists in illegal and amoral business practices to complete the project, he finds himself moving—with Liesl’s help—toward an understanding of his responsibility to the world outside himself. She is the one who forces him to confront his role as father and the consequences of relinquishing those responsibilities. This sort of conflicted father-figure, as seen in The Royal Tenenbaums, Fantastic Mr. Fox, and The Grand Budapest Hotel is a recurring archetype in Anderson’s works.
Also in the mix are aspects of today’s capitalistic oligarch culture which dehumanizes and “flattens” everything else before it. Korda’s lies, deceits, and manipulations resonate in today’s robber-baron political environment. The difference between this world and our present political reality is that Korda finally becomes perceptive enough to understand his legacy.
Besides the usual aesthetic trimmings found in a Wes Anderson film, there are dozens of delightful human moments. Michael Cera’s Bjorn is a beautifully drawn and meticulously calibrated portrayal. The scene between him and Liesl drinking beer in the train car during the HORSE game is simply marvelous. This is easily the best performance of his career.
The rest of the Anderson troupe is similarly brilliant. In a way, the presence of so many A-listers is a double-edged sword. While it’s always a pleasure to see Scarlett Johannson, Willem Defoe, or Bill Murray in a film, the question of whether their presence distracts from the plot remains.
This movie is a pleasure to watch. It is simultaneously stunning, heartfelt, and ridiculously funny. It is hilarious. From the sight gag of Korda’s pilot making a quick exit in the first scene to the physical comedy of the final scene to the sophisticated black humor, the film is a pleasure. The acting is superb. Mia Threapleton’s deadpan portrayal of Liesl—it’s hilarious when she pulls a knife in the desert—is brilliant.
Wes Anderson is a genius. His films stretch the envelope of the possibilities of what cinema can be when pushed beyond the norms of realism–and transparency. The plot of The Phoenician Scheme is convoluted and somewhat hard to follow, distracting from the sheer beauty of his production design and humor. While it is not his most accessible—or his best—film, it is well worth seeing.
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