THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME (2025)

In recent years, it has been increasingly difficult for devoted acolytes of Wes Anderson to justify the auteur’s cinematic sainthood. The conceptual conceit of The French Dispatch (2020) inspired more confusion than admiration, the transcendence of Asteroid City (2023) instigated criticism for its overly complex narrative structure, and The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (2024) was largely overlooked. Many cynical enthusiasts who once approached Anderson with an auteurist sense of cinematic awe criticised whether the emotional resonance of his meticulously stylised worlds had long since evaporated.

The universal melancholy that once pulsated beneath his idiosyncratic tableaux of symmetrical compositions, baroque dialogue, and absurdist humour appeared to have been overshadowed by grandiloquent artificiality. It seemed his recent body of work required an unadulterated allegiance to either the auteur’s elegant eccentricities or the deadpan charm of his ensemble to truly appreciate. However, his latest globetrotting adventure should alleviate the concerns of those embittered naysayers. Co-written alongside frequent collaborator Roman Coppola (Moonrise Kingdom),The Phoenician Scheme flirts with espionage, family melodrama, and mortality as Anderson revisits his unique brand of adventurous whimsy found within his most lauded works.

Taking place against an early-1950s Middle Eastern backdrop, “Zsa-zsa” Korda (Benicio del Toro) may be one of the wealthiest aristocrats in Europe. He’ss a ruthless industrialist who aims to build an ambitious multipurpose venture across an underutilised area of the Modern Greater Independent Phoenicia. When his various destabilising antics anger a group of controversial figures, a consortium of treacherous tycoons, government bureaucrats, and perpetual assassins attempts to assassinate him. However, after surviving his sixth assassination attempt and experiencing a moment of existential reflection, Korda halts his gargantuan infrastructure project in the Middle East. Knowing threats to his life are imminent and his large fortune is in peril, the ruthless entrepreneur begins to consider his legacy and decides to appoint a successor. Disregarding his nine untrustworthy sons with three wives, Korda decides his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton) should be the heir to his enterprise. Despite her suspicions of her estranged father, the pair travel across Phoenicia to persuade a number of benefactors to help finance the ambitious venture while reconciling their dynamic.

Following his understated yet sinister turn as the murderous artist Moses Rosenthaler in The French Dispatch, Benicio del Toro (The Usual Suspects) continues to excel as Anatole “Zsa-zsa” Korda. As the impervious European magnate determined to preserve his legacy, the actor surpasses himself by providing a disarmingly introspective and multifaceted performance.

Seemingly channelling the lovably disreputable allure of the late Gene Hackman’s endearing portrayal of Royal Tenenbaum, del Toro crafts a similar version of that duality but on a grander scale. Inspired by bureaucratic industrialists such as Calouste Gulbenkian, Aristotle Onassis, and Stavros Niarchos, Korda shamelessly advocates slave labour, and his Machiavellian entrepreneurial skills reinforce his reputation as “Mr. 5%”. Yet, beneath his loathsome capitalist exterior is a deadpan eccentricity and muted melancholy that speaks silently of an underlying vulnerability. The result is a morally complicated plutocrat who is simultaneously despicable and magnetic, rendered with a charismatic ease by del Toro.

A noteworthy addition to Anderson’s ever-expanding company is Mia Threapleton (Firebrand), appearing as Korda’s porcelain-faced daughter, Liesl. As a woman of faith juggling her commitments to the church and forging a path of forgiveness for her father, the young actress becomes the emotional anchor of the film. It’s an understated turn, but she holds her own against a cast of heavyweights. There are unmistakable echoes of her mother (Kate Winslet) in her unflinching gaze and sardonic air, yet her own brand of deadpan humour dovetails wonderfully with the auteur’s clockwork rhythm. It’ss a breakout performance that is sure to be remembered in the filmmaker’s pantheon of resourceful female heroines, including Gwyneth Paltrow’s melancholic Margot Tenenbaum and Saoirse Ronan’s sharp Agatha.

Similarly, Anderson newcomer Michael Cera (Barbie) remarkably stands out amongst the overcrowded ensemble. Acquitting himself nicely as the eccentric Norwegian entomology professor, Bjorn, he adds an educational dimension to the proceedings. While imbuing the peculiar character with his signature brand of awkwardness, the actor is a natural vessel for the narrative’s offbeat sensibilities. It’s a layered performance that’s more complex than it initially appears and undoubtedly one of Cera’s finest characters to date. He seems destined to become a mainstay in Anderson’s growing troupe.

While the story centres firmly around the seemingly irreconcilable dynamic between Korda and Liesl, there’s a kaleidoscope of quirky characters that all have their unique eccentricities and charms. Scarlett Johansson (Marriage Story) receives ample room to pontificate as Korda’s second Cousin, Hilda. The disillusioned kibbutznik is prepared to forfeit her birthright for a greater percentage of the family’s wealth. Meanwhile, Tom Hanks (The Green Mile) and Bryan Cranston (Drive) appear as Leland and Reagan, two prominent members of the ambiguous Sacramento Consortium that enjoy amending their business negotiations through a game of basketball. Elsewhere, a plethora of familiar faces orbit the narrative like exquisitely tailored chess pieces including Bill Murray (The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou), Willem Dafoe (The Grand Budapest Hotel), Jeffrey Wright (American Fiction), Rupert Friend (Companion), Richard Ayoade (The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar), and Benedict Cumberbatch (The Book of Clarence).

Following the overly complicated structural conceit that plagued Anderson’s previous two endeavours, The Phoenician Scheme is a welcome reprieve that will likely be heralded as a triumphant return to narrative clarity. Both Anderson and Roman Coppola craft a screenplay that is, comparatively speaking, their most straightforward storytelling since Moonrise Kingdom (2012). The eponymous scheme is Korda’s elaborate three-part infrastructure project consisting of a Trans-mountain Locomotive Tunnel, a Trans-desert Inland Waterway, and a Trans-basin Hydroelectric Embankment. The blueprints for the loftily titled “Korda Land and Sea Phoenicia Infrastructure Scheme” are contained within a number of meticulously stacked shoeboxes, but the real challenge is to persuade a number of industrial barons and powerful bureaucrats to help finance the project. Across the four corners of Phoenicia, Korda and Liesl encounter a Phoenician prince (Riz Ahmed), Ivy League businessmen (Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston), an irascible nightclub owner (Matthieu Amalric), a shipping magnate (Jeffrey Wright), a brooding Eastern European kibbutznik (Scarlett Johansson), and a serpentine uncle Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch). Each interaction is delicately nested within its own shoebox vignette, adorned with Anderson’s trademark manic exposition and deadpan absurdity. Yet, despite the whirlwind of offbeat characters and foreign locales, the narrative complexities are surprisingly palatable.

This narrative conceit often balances on the precipice of becoming convoluted, but fully understanding the intricacies of Korda’s shady business dealings with corrupt politicians and international conglomerates is not required to enjoy The Phoenician Scheme. A great deal of pleasure can be found in Anderson’s absurdist sensibilities and seriocomic humour. An abundance of visual gags such as colourful hand grenades, flaming crossbow bolts, and comically simple budgetary diagrams are layered into almost every frame, each one more gratuitously charming than the last. Whereas recurring gags involving Korda’s reactions to his assassination attempts are delivered with a comically detached understatement. Even the most contrived narrative detours are delightfully entertaining, laced with Anderson’s signature combination of deadpan irony and sharp witticisms. A particular sequence involving a heist orchestrated by a group of revolutionary schoolteachers led by Sergio (Richard Ayoade) strikes a sublime balance between the preposterous and inspired.

Although audiences have grown familiar with Anderson’s iconic aesthetic, to suggest that his technical prowess has diminished would be a grave misjudgment. The pristine geometric compositions and meticulously smooth tracking sequences around Adam Stockhausen’s (The French Dispatch) immaculate production design are nothing short of a visual symphony. The Phoenician Scheme marks the auteur’s first collaboration with Bruno Delbonnel (Amélie) as the director of photography rather than Robert Yeoman (Asteroid City), and his visual language seems to be second nature. The opening credits, in particular, unfold like a perfectly choreographed dance. Captured from above in slow motion, the audience is ushered into the decadence found within Korda’s life. While soaking in his luxurious bathtub, smoking an old cigar, a silent procession of housemaids delivers scrambled eggs and vintage wine. As each maid enters the frame, tending to his wounds, the sequence unfolds like a perfectly choreographed ballet. It’s perfectly measured and, much like the entire 101-minute runtime, unfolds like a miniature diorama of visual catharsis.

Piercing through the superficial artifice is a humbling story of remorse and mortification masquerading as an espionage comedy. Anderson is one of the few contemporary auteurs who understands that kinship is the sharpest double-edged sword that can leave behind the most devastating wounds. Much like Rushmore (1998) protagonist Max Fischer, his ornately festooned productions and vast extracurricular activities disguise the inner turmoil caused by dysfunctional family dynamics. Korda and Liesl’s relationship is practically irreparable, and it’s within this narrative thread that The Phoenician Scheme reveals its heart is the delicate rapprochement between father and daughter. Initially, the morally dubious industrialist and his pious daughter seem content with their mutual estrangement.

However, as the pair traverse across the Arabian Peninsula to cover the financial gap in the elaborate scheme, their relationship gradually evolves from a strategic necessity to a quietly affecting rediscovery of familial connection. Liesl relinquishes the burning resentment towards the man she believes murdered her mother, whereas Korda confronts his moral failings when each brush with death prompts heavenly black-and-white sequences reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman’s The Seventh Seal (1957). These intermittent celestial meetings with God (Bill Murray) compel him to realise that family is the richest business that anyone could ever hope to inherit. Admittedly, this development lacks the heartfelt sentimentality of Anderson’s more lauded achievements such as The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) and The Grand Budapest Hotel. However, this disarmingly sweet poignancy marks a return to the emotionally grounded and intimate narratives that made his more accessible works so popular.

After the fragmented indulgence of The French Dispatch and the overwrought complexity of Asteroid City, The Phoenician Scheme emerges as a recalibration in Wes Anderson’s cinematic trajectory. Echoing the refined balance of his most acclaimed works, his latest endeavour deftly marries his meticulously crafted visual grammar and idiosyncratic comedic rhythms with a more grounded and straightforward narrative. However, beneath its ornate veneer lies a quietly devastating meditation on the fragile intricacies of human connection. Although the emotional core may be obscured by the auteur’s ornate pageantry and curated whimsy, it pulses with sincerity, suggesting the emotional bonds we forge are the richest.

USA • GERMANY | 2025 | 101 MINUTES | 1:50:1 |  COLOUR • BLACK & WHITE | ENGLISH

Cast & Crew

director: Wes Anderson.
writers: Wes Anderson (story by Wes Anderson & Roman Coppola).
starring: Benicio del Toro, Mia Threapleton, Michael Cera, Steve Park, Rupert Friend, Riz Ahmed, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Mathieu Amalric, Richard Ayoade, Jeffrey Wright, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Willem Dafoe, F. Murray Abraham, Charlotte Gainsbourg & Bill Murray.