The Manhattan hotel where I had the privilege of interviewing Wes Anderson offered striking views of Central Park and a more ominous sight—the Trump International Hotel and Tower. This juxtaposition perfectly frames Anderson’s upcoming film, The Phoenician Scheme, which boldly explores themes involving a modern tycoon entwined in arms dealing, vast infrastructure projects, and various enterprises. The film’s central character, Zsa-zsa Korda, played masterfully by Benicio del Toro, channels the aura of classic European magnates reminiscent of Aristotle Onassis or Gianni Agnelli. Anderson remarked with a chuckle, “I think that everything’s filtering in. We’re all reading the same newspapers.”
Wes Anderson has long been pigeonholed as a creator of quaint, meticulously designed cinematic worlds, often viewed as detached from the real world. Yet, his work is finely tuned to Echo contemporary issues. His previous feature, Asteroid City, blends a charming dramedy set against the backdrop of a pandemic-induced lockdown with a whimsical narrative about a space-age desert town. Anderson crafted Asteroid City while self-isolating during the pandemic, a time that undoubtedly colored its themes of isolation and uncertainty.
Contrasting with Asteroid City, The Phoenician Scheme adopts a lighter, zany tone as Korda embarks on a wild journey across the globe to reclaim his faltering fortune. Beneath its playful exterior, the film nails the absurd pretense of today’s ultra-wealthy landowners. Early in our conversation, I worried that he might sidestep this observation, as he often describes his screenwriting process as a mysterious, spontaneous journey. However, he acknowledged that serious subjects do permeate the humor-laden façade of his film.
Much of The Phoenician Scheme unfolds in transit, with Korda primarily traveling by airplane. This choice is not merely practical; it serves as a symbol of wealth and social status. Anderson notes the irony: “Now, we’ve got a 747 coming in from Qatar,” in reference to Trump’s recent multi-million dollar air acquisition.
If reality truly filters into The Phoenician Scheme, it is artfully transformed through Anderson’s signature lens. The film is whimsically absurd, inviting audiences to empathize with a morally ambiguous protagonist who, despite his ruthless business practices, begins to confront deeper human dilemmas. The narrative not only follows Korda’s misadventures but also delves into his strained relationship with his daughter, Liesl (portrayed by Mia Threapleton) who is a novice nun and a staunch critic of her father’s morally questionable enterprises.
Though Korda initially dismisses her concerns, the movie gradually reveals that Korda is haunted by a palpable fear of mortality. His escapades across continents are often punctuated by near-death experiences, where he finds himself navigating a surreal, black-and-white realm where he faces judgment from otherworldly entities, with God depicted by Bill Murray. As Korda attempts to rally other business tycoons, he slowly starts to nurture a sense of connection he has long overlooked.
Further heightening the film’s eccentric charm, various tycoons are introduced under absurd circumstances—at a high-stakes basketball game or amidst a chaotic nightclub shootout, aptly illustrating their exaggerated personas. Anderson describes these characters as “cartoons” imbued with peculiarities that reflect their excessive wealth. The inspiration for these larger-than-life portrayals, besides iconic figures like Onassis, is drawn from Anderson’s own father-in-law, Fouad Malouf, a Lebanese engineer. This connection is not just superficial; it resonates deeply within the film’s narrative threads about ambition and paternal bonds.
Anderson’s unique directorial style lends a meticulous quality to The Phoenician Scheme, where every shot is artfully composed while maintaining a sense of spontaneity. The film’s settings pay homage to real locations but remain imbued with a fresh, imaginative spark, reveling in an otherworldly charm.
One striking element of Anderson’s filmmaking is his approach to ensemble casting, which fosters a sense of camaraderie during production. This time around, newcomers like Michael Cera—who portrays a fussy Norwegian tutor—and Riz Ahmed, playing the heir to a fictional national dynasty, complement the established cast in seamlessly fitting into Anderson’s artistic universe.
Del Toro delivers a performance that stands out as the film’s emotional core; it marks the first Anderson film focused on a singular character since The Grand Budapest Hotel. Del Toro resonated with the character of Korda from the outset, with Anderson revealing that he shared his vision for the role while promoting their previous collaboration, The French Dispatch.
As we discussed Del Toro’s captivating on-screen presence, I mentioned his unique brand of allure—his “whatever.” Over the years, Del Toro has honed his craft, expressing complex emotions with minimal physical movement, lending a powerful gravitas to Korda’s character.
It’s not uncommon for Anderson to write with a specific actor in mind, with Del Toro emerging as an ideal fit for Korda. Reflecting on his past work, Anderson mentions the character of Royal Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums, another multifaceted father figure navigating conflicting emotions. Now, at 56, Anderson approaches Korda from a more nuanced perspective enriched by his own experiences as a father.
Ultimately, The Phoenician Scheme strikes a delicate balance between humor and introspection, resonating with themes of fatherhood, wealth, and moral ambiguity. It embodies a more seasoned, yet still whimsical, picture that chronicles the awe and trepidation surrounding larger-than-life figures, inviting audiences to reflect on the truths hidden within their extravagant lifestyles.
In summary, Anderson’s film serves as a colorful meditation on power and personal connections, wrapped in the director’s signature stylistic flair. The vibrant characters and surreal situations in The Phoenician Scheme efficiently echo current realities and evoke laughter and contemplation, making it a film that promises to entertain while also prompting deeper reflections.
