Wes Anderson’s The Phoenician Scheme

It was one of Alexander the Great’s first conquests, but Zsa Zsa Korda has a plan to make Phoenicia great again. It is really more of a scheme. Frankly, Alexander probably would not recognize this Phenicia, because it exists solely in the world of Wes Anderson, but, be that as it may, they stand to gain from a massive infrastructure upgrade that would concurrently line Korda’s pockets. However, he must survive constant assassination attempts and figure out how to cover a funding gap that does not involve his own funds in Anderson’s The Phoenician Scheme, which opens this Friday in theaters nationwide

With a name like Zsa Zsa Korda, he must be Hungarian, but Korda is a man without a country—and certainly no tax returns. Korda is an arms dealer and financier very much like Orson Welles’ Mr. Arkadin. Somehow, he convinced his syndicate and cartel conies kick into his Phoenician development scheme, but he is a little short, so he needs all his gangster buddies to kick in more—for the same return.

Obviously, this will be a tough sell, so Korda brings along his daughter, a novitiate nun Liesl, whom he designated his sole heir and successor after surviving the latest assassination attempt. She is rather appalled by his sinful ways, but recognizes an opportunity to do good through Korda’s organization—despite the arms-dealing and slave labor on which the Phoenician construction projects depend.

As you would expect from Anderson’s films, the film’s 1950s art design is charming (and less precious than some of his recent output). However, the episodic nature of Anderson and Roman Coppola’s narrative quickly grows repetitive.

Yet, the father-daughter relationship appealingly anchors the film. To his credit, Anderson refreshingly embraces good old-fashioned sentimentality and shuns cynicism. The Phoenician Scheme is another good example of that. Perhaps most tellingly, he never condemns Sister Liesl for her Catholic faith. Rather, he uses it to pass judgement on Korda’s rogue’s gallery of criminal associates.

Most of the fun of Phoenician Scheme comes from gawking at the very famous ensemble acting very goofy. Ironically, Andrson extracts the most humor from Benicio del Toro’s performance, even though he plays it scrupulously straight. Nevertheless, his extreme poker face pairs well with the vast array of injuries he endures from each successive assassination attempt.

Michael Cena also shows unusual restraint as Bjorn Lund, the tutor forced to serve as Korda’s confidential secretary, despite the obvious risks. However, nobody is more deadpan than Mia Threapleton as Sister Liesl. All that reserve from the main cast leaves plenty of room for Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Mathieu Amalric, Jeffrey Wright, and Benedict Cumberbatch to chew the scenery in the Around the World in 80 Days-esque appearances.

Yet, probably the funniest more-or-less-cameos come from Willem Dafoe, F. Murray Abraham, and Anderson’s crony-patron Bill Murray (who plays God himself, evidently one of the few roles that still interests him) in the Greek Chorus afterlife sequences. Satirizing religious allegories in the tradition of Bergman’s The Seventh Seal, these interludes are decidedly not Wes Andersonian, but they definitely help set the film apart from the field.

Even by Anderson’s standards, his latest is very hit-or-miss. However, the film has a profound moral center. In this case, the auteur’s obsessive attention to detail also better justifies itself as a means to a cinematic end, rather than fetishistic indulgence. The use of Stravinsky’s themes and several jazz numbers performed by Fuasi Abdul-Khaliq’s ensemble also instills a classier vibe. Mostly recommended for Anderson’s admirers and those who will appreciate the early 50’s aesthetic, The Phoenicians is now playing in New York theaters (including the AMC Lincoln Square) and expands nationwide this Friday (6/6).