Written by Dilan Fernando

Wes Anderson’s latest film The Phoenician Scheme opens with Armenian business tycoon Anatole ‘Zsa Zsa’ Korda (Benicio del Toro) surviving yet another attempt on his life by one of many disgruntled enemies. This time, a bomb was set to explode on Korda’s private jet. The plane crash lands in a cornfield with Korda emerging with a swollen eye (resembling The Elephant Man) and walks into a news broadcast covering the accident. Anderson’s handling of this scene is similar to Hal Ashby’s opening scene of Harold and Maude (1971) combining dark humour and cynicism. The film’s opening titles show Korda in the bathtub recovering from his wounds as a team of nurses wait on him hand and foot with Stravinsky playing over the soundtrack. Anderson mirrors the title sequence of Raging Bull (1980) with Jake La Motta shadow boxing in the ring to the music of Mascagni. The use of slow-motion in each title sequence shows a heightened sense of awareness. In Raging Bull it emphasizes and foreshadows who La Motta’s greatest opponent is. In The Phoenician Scheme it shows what’s standing in the Korda’s way of being regarded as a remarkable individual. The final similarity in each film has both protagonists trying to reconcile and mend relationships with family members.

Korda realizing that even a cat has only nine lives, sends for his daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton) at a convent before she’s to take her vows and become a nun. Korda gives his daughter an opportunity to be his assistant and learn his business(es) first hand before she’s sworn in as his heir. All of his documents, business proposals and important papers are carefully placed in a series of shoeboxes – one of many traits that Anderson adopted from his wife’s father Fouad who was a great inspiration for the Korda character. Liesl, taken aback by the proposition, looks at her other siblings (all nine sons), some biological others adopted, as they watch in curiosity unsure of what it is they are watching – as their inheritance is bequeathed before their very eyes. Korda’s way of securing the inheritance that is Liesl’s birthright is by cooking up a scheme (Phoenician) with help from his business associates from around the world. Accompanying the father-daughter duo on their globe-trotting adventure is Bjørn Lund (Michael Cera) a Norwegian entomologist who’s hired as Korda’s personal tutor. The trio consecrate their journey by having dinner on the terrace of Korda’s grand mansion.

As the trip begins Anderson departs from the exploration of familial structures as seen in early films like The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) and The Darjeeling Limited (2007). Deviating from the father-daughter battle of differences like Ryan and Tatum O’Neal in Peter Bogdanovich’s Paper Moon (1973), Anderson focuses on the convoluted plot about the intricacies required to make a business scheme work. Liesl’s faith slowly withers away with every passing scene and new introduction to life outside the convent by Bjørn. As the relationship between Bjørn and Liesl continues to blossom it becomes more apparent that the supposedly strong connection she has with her father will unlikely withstand such a romance. Liesl does show some individuality as she detests her father’s business acumen, repeating throughout the trip that she’s only there to find the person who killed her mother and avenge her death. When Korda and Liesl do get into arguments and bicker with each other the arguments are almost always one-sided as Anderson attributes another characteristic of Fouad’s; by having Korda bark his arguments until those who oppose him submit out of fatigue. Notice the way Anderson composes shots throughout the film (utilizing his signature center framing approach) by having Korda either in the middle or close-up in the foreground with the other characters in the background (inferior). A visual representation of Korda’s commanding presence that he believes surpasses the power that his wealth provides.

While a typical Wes Anderson film through and through, *The Phoenician Scheme* feels like there is something lost in translation.

Anderson’s ability in showing disagreements and interactions among family members – a fountain for realistic emotional drama used to make the audience ponder, ‘What’s in a family?’. Now, the audience is left waiting, watching the highlights of the decline of Anderson’s storytelling ability as they are beautifully punctuated with cinematography; as if the initial idea was fully developed for the film. Trying to incorporate a quarreling family dynamic with a very light touch into an espionage adventure thriller of ludicrous proportions is difficult for any filmmaker. It’s admirable seeing Anderson tenaciously try to break new ground but a veteran of such a caliber with an extensive filmography as his should be more seasoned. What could’ve been a saving grace for the film, giving depth to its unfinished feeling, are the afterlife visions that plague Korda after every near-death experience. Anderson’s handling of the sequences shot in black-and-white to visually differ from the rest of the film, makes them feel more like outliers. Hoping to evoke Buñuel makes these scenes appear as a cheap imitation like many other filmmakers influenced by the visuals of surrealism for a surrealist aesthetic, overlooking the underlying commentary that is present in Buñuel’s compositions.

At the film’s press conference after its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival, I waited with a hand raised hoping to offer Wes Anderson a question, “What have you been able to do in The Phoenician Scheme that you haven’t achieved before?” An admirer of both his successes and failures, Anderson’s filmmaking style shows himself trudging forward, perhaps once every so often he should take a break and reflect on his progress.

Dilan Fernando graduated with a degree in Communications from Brock University. ”Written sentiments are more poetic than spoken word. Film will always preserve more than digital could ever. Only after a great film experience can one begin to see all that life has to offer.“