‘The Phoenician Scheme’ review: Fathers and fortunes

Wes Anderson’s The Phoenician Scheme is a visually rich, emotionally sharp spy thriller whose muddled plot slightly dulls its impact.

Metronomic deadpan performances, symmetrical sets, and meticulous attention to small details. These instantly recognizable traits are what have made Wes Anderson a genre unto himself. His style is now such a fixture of contemporary cinema and pop culture that it has inspired entire meme trends, with users adapting his aesthetic to their daily lives.

Those aesthetic elements can be distracting, but beneath the surface, Anderson’s films are deeply existential. Their magic happens when the characters inhabiting these carefully curated dioramas grapple with themes that live at the intersection of loneliness, family dynamics, and grief. In his latest film, the globe-trotting spy thriller The Phoenician Scheme, Anderson doubles down on his signature aesthetics while sharpening their philosophical edge, interrogating the value of legacy and redemption.

Enter Zsa-zsa Korda.

Anderson and Roman Coppola’s screenplay follows Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro), an extroverted puppet-master businessman and arms dealer inspired by the robber barons of the early 20th century, with a penchant for surviving assassinations and plane crashes. After his sixth plane crash, he begins to confront his mortality and the future of his empire, particularly his upcoming venture; the eponymous Phoenician Scheme, a development project that would enrich him and his associates by subjugating a fictitious European country. Korda wishes to pass his legacy to his daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a nun who is soon to take her vows.

Initially reluctant, Liesl is determined to uncover the truth about her mother’s death. She partners with her father and his in-house tutor Bjorn (an excellent Michael Cera) and embarks on a global mission to negotiate funding for the scheme. Their journey brings them into contact with an eclectic array of financiers: Prince Farouk (Riz Ahmed), two calculating brothers (Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston), nightclub owner Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric), American investor Marty (Jeffrey Wright), Korda’s cousin Hilda (Scarlett Johansson), and the eccentric Uncle Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). There is physical comedy and an increasingly fast-paced, convoluted plot. All of the Anderson staples are present, now reframed within the structure of a spy thriller.

A different kind of reckoning.

Unlike much of Anderson’s recent work, the narrative structure here is relatively simple. There are no nested storylines, flashbacks, tableaus, or films about TV programs about plays. This simplicity creates a close proximity between the audience and the characters, strengthening the emotional beats and fostering a clearer connection with the protagonist. This choice fits well with the character of Zsa-zsa Korda, a classic Wes Anderson lead: an emotionally stifled, hyper-competent eccentric whose uniqueness masks unresolved grief. Yet unlike many of his previous protagonists, Anderson forces Korda to confront his own shortcomings and willingly address them. This arc is set in motion by one of the film’s more intriguing elements; After each near-death experience, Korda faces what appears to be an afterlife trial, where the immoral foundations of his fortune are called into question, with a memorable appearance by Bill Murray as God.

In Korda’s case, improvement involves not only atoning for the immoral nature of his fortune and the suffering caused by his schemes, but also repairing his relationship with Liesl, who in turn discovers she may not be as different from her father as she believed. The strength of The Phoenician Scheme lies in watching this relationship evolve throughout the film. Rather than relying on the grand, singular moments of reckoning often found in Anderson’s fraught parent archetypes, we witness a gradual, mutual development between the two characters, which provides a refreshing deviation from his usual formula.

Forgetful scheming.

However, the film’s strong focus on the father-daughter relationship inadvertently shifts attention away from some of the scheme’s financial negotiations. The movie remains quite vague about how exactly the scheme works and who is funding what. While this may not be the central focus, the ambiguity makes it harder for the audience to stay invested as the characters move through their various negotiations. It ultimately weakens the sense of stakes. The second act, as a result, feels somewhat sluggish. For example, there are constant references to a “gap,” described cryptically as more than a deficit or “a pie that is too big for its own mold.” There are also hints of a murder mystery subplot and a recurring romantic comedy gag. None of these threads have clear articulation and feel like scaffolding for the character relationships rather than fully-realized story elements, making parts of the film less memorable.

This narrative fuzziness contrasts sharply with the production design, which is as impeccable as ever. The world of the film is filled with meticulously crafted details, from a recurring skull motif to personal references such as to the shoeboxes Anderson’s father-in-law used to organize his plans. Alexandre Desplat’s score, paired with selections from The Firebird and Petrushka by Igor Stravinsky, perfectly complements the film’s atmosphere. Anderson’s aesthetics are often criticized as self-indulgent, but it is impossible to deny the value of having an auteur who creates with such dedication and attention to detail.

The bottom line.

The Phoenician Scheme trades Anderson’s usual narrative gymnastics for a simpler, more direct story full of his signature aesthetics, delivering a tale of existential reckoning with clear emotional focus. Though the structure feels a bit lean compared to his more layered films, and the lack of plot clarity makes the actual scheming rather forgettable, audiences can expect just enough redemption to give its meticulously crafted world some emotional weight.

The Phoenician Scheme is now playing in select theaters and opens wide on Friday, June 6. Watch the trailer here.

Images courtesy of TPS Productions/Focus Features. Read more articles by Pedro Luis Graterol here.