Even among devoted Wes Anderson fans such as myself, rating and ranking his films sometimes comes down to sheer preference. His style is so distinctive, and he has leaned into it so much over the past decade-and-a-half that, for some, his films as a group can sort of blend into each other. The precious little props, ornate set design, and jokes which often rely as much on camera movement and blocking as they do line delivery and physicality can sometimes wear us down as much as they can often renew our faith in the joys of great filmmaking. As for myself, the only Wes Anderson film I’ve ever disliked is Moonrise Kingdom, so I’m as devoted a fan as they come. As for The Phoenician Scheme, I definitely enjoyed it, but my absolute favorite Anderson films are certainly in no danger of being knocked off their perch.
Phoenician has some of the same elements of political satire which make The Grand Budapest Hotel Anderson’s magnum opus. However, Benicio Del Toro’s Zsa-Zsa Korda isn’t quite as lovable a scoundrel as Ralph Fiennes’ iconic Gustave H. from Budapest. Korda is a rogue industrialist and international arms dealer who has (humorously) survived multiple assassination attempts, one of which Phoenician opens with. The immediacy of the comic violence here sets a tone in which we feel like anything can happen, and it often does as the film goes along. We soon meet Sister Liesl (Mia Threapleton), Korda’s daughter. She wants to remain a nun, but Korda’s plan to pass down his backroom empire to her would seem to throw a wrench into her plans. For someone as impure as Korda, it’s Screenwriting 101 to pair him with someone trying to be as pure as possible, and specifically someone he desperately needs to connect with. As he often does, Anderson hilariously turns this notion on its head, as neither espionage nor beer nor a potential romance with her brothers’ tutor Bjørn (Michael Cera) dissuades her from her path.
Partly because she plays the character with the most internal conflict among the three leading roles, Threapleton carries the film at many points. She’s also an excellent screen presence in her own right, but her deadpan sensibilities just pair so terrifically well with Anderson’s. It’s always a joy to see a new performer step into Anderson’s flock and thrive. Also new is Cera, whose typical on-screen persona as a quiet loner works so well for Bjørn. There’s a lot of absurd comedy going on here as the trio of misfits go globe-hopping, but it’s always nice to come back down to earth with Liesl and Bjørn.
I really do want to stress the absurdist piece of what’s going on here. Where Budapest — while just as formally stylish and fundamentally confectionary — had a structure to it, Phoenician really doesn’t, and that ethos only works about half of the time. For example, Asteroid City, Anderson’s last feature really went for the experimental streak in his contemporary work. This latest picture feels as though it’s trying to live in both worlds, — the confectionary and the experimental — but never masters either one. Each time Korda is knocked out from an assassination attempt (mostly plane crashes), he sees a black-and-white vision of his own judgment day in heaven. These segments are all agreeably funny, but they don’t hold a candle to the film’s funniest and perhaps most profound moments, such as a clandestine sporting contest in an unfinished train tunnel, or an argument between Korda and his investor Marty (Jeffrey Wright) during a blood transfusion.
To completely explain why the eccentricities of The Phoenician Scheme don’t all fall right into place like in Anderson’s best work would be to spoil so many terrific moments. It isn’t that those moments are few and far between here, it’s just that they don’t add up to that wow factor present in much of Anderson’s best. Often when watching or rewatching an Anderson film, I’m always amazed at how ambitious he is in crafting these fascinating worlds and characters and then guiding the audience through a fast-paced story within said world without feeling like we missed too much of the world or the characters. Here, we have the world, we have the characters, but we don’t have the fascinating. It’s a delightfully crisp movie, but its entertainment value mostly stops there. Lesser Wes can still be a treat, but this is more of a light snack than a full meal, or even a dessert. | George Napper
