The Phoenician Scheme

 

Following unsuccessful attempts to assassinate him, cutthroat industrialist Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro) attempts to mend fences with his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton) by naming her his heir. Liesl, an aspiring nun, wants nothing to do with him, blaming him for the death of her mother, but reasons that his money can be put to good use. No sooner do they meet, however, then does a conspiracy arise to bankrupt Korda by driving up the cost of building materials on the titular infrastructure project. Accompanied by Liesl and Bjorn (Michael Cera), an entomologist pressed into service as an administrative assistant, Korda must rally his investors, evade more would-be assassins, and come to terms with his failures as a parent. 

From the retrofuturist aesthetic to the Bill Murray and Willem Dafoe cameos to the themes of family dysfunction, The Phoenician Scheme is as Wes Anderson a film as Wes Anderson has ever made…except when it isn’t. Its exploration of the transformative power of faith is a new touch, but so too is its late-act sloppiness.

Anderson, who co-wrote the film with Roman Coppola, remains a polarizing figure, and The Phoenician Scheme does nothing to challenge that reputation. People tend to either find his quirkiness endearing or grating. One of those quirks is mannered dialogue, and it lends itself to deadpan humor here. Korda offers up hand grenades as if they were cigars and nonchalantly repeats that he feels “perfectly safe” as the threats to his life multiply. And yet, there’s a weightiness to the character that this unflappability belies. Korda is haunted by visions of divine judgment as well as his own childhood trauma.

If distinctive dialogue and design aren’t Anderson’s calling cards, then the ability to draw a star-studded ensemble cast must be at this point. While there’s nary a Jason Schwartzman, Adrien Brody, or a Wilson brother in sight this go-around, the likes of Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Jeffrey Wright, Riz Ahmed, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Scarlett Johansson pop up here. His undecipherable speech in The Usual Suspects notwithstanding, del Toro isn’t known for his comedy resume, but his dry delivery is a good fit. Threapleton, a relative newcomer (and the daughter of Kate Winslet), holds her own here, imbuing Liesl with a piety and seriousness that never seems winkingly parodic. Cera is, if a weaker actor, at least well-cast as a character whose meek demeanor hides a darker nature.

Despite these strengths, The Phoenician Scheme has a strained, rushed quality as if it’s racing against its runtime to establish itself as more than just a lark. This is most evident during the final half-hour, which features a dramatic antagonist reveal (whose drama is undermined by heavy foreshadowing and a silly-looking bout of fisticuffs) and a pat ending.

It seems borderline-heretical to write off such a precisely designed film as forgettable, yet The Phoenician Scheme simply doesn’t stick the way that some of Anderson’s previous offerings do. It’s worth watching if you’re a fan and enjoyable in the moment, but unlike The Royal Tenenbaums or The Grand Budapest Hotel, this is one that you probably won’t keep coming back to.