The Phoenician Scheme
For devoted fans of the director’s meticulous style, this will likely be a treat. But for others, especially those who’ve started to feel the charm wearing thin, it might land yet another beautiful, but emotionally hollow exercise in aesthetic control.
The film follows Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro), a tycoon with a target on his back, who names his daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a nun with a firm moral compass, as his heir. The premise has plenty of promise, suggesting a clash of ideologies, a deep exploration of legacy, even a bit of absurdist espionage, but it rarely pushes beyond the surface. Their strained relationship should serve as the emotional core, yet it feels more conceptual than lived-in, and never quite earns the depth it gestures toward.
That’s not to say there’s no fun to be had. Michael Cera steals scenes as Bjorn, an insect-obsessed professor with a baffling Scandinavian accent and a surprising amount of narrative weight. Anderson still knows how to populate his worlds with off-kilter charm and sly wit, and the film’s design, from underground lairs to elaborate train compartments – is predictably gorgeous.
Yet even with all this visual dazzle, the film rarely feels alive. Scenes glide by with choreographed elegance, but the pacing is oddly flat, and the stakes never fully register. It’s as if the film is too preoccupied with its own cleverness to let anything truly messy or human break through. There's precision, but little pulse.
Ultimately, The Phoenician Scheme feels like it’s going through the motions of a Wes Anderson film rather than evolving into something more affecting or memorable. It’s clever, yes. Beautiful, absolutely. But he heart of the film never quite catches up to its impeccable style.
Showing in cinemas everywhere.
