​Holiness and hand grenades: Anderson plans ‘The Phoenician Scheme’

By Greg Carlson

gregcarlson1@gmail.com

Wes Anderson’s twelfth full-length feature, “The Phoenician Scheme,” sees the idiosyncratic auteur pull back from the elaborate storytelling scaffolding and structures of “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and “Asteroid City,” movies that dazzled viewers with metanarrative gymnastics nesting stories inside stories. Even so, “The Phoenician Scheme” bears enough of the familiar stylistic rigor identified with Anderson to be instantly recognizable. Fans and followers will be watching closely to see how Anderson’s first live-action movie without regular DP Robert Yeoman will compare to the eye of cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel. In front of the camera, ensemble newcomers Mia Threapleton and Michael Cera fit right in with the Anderson regulars who show up time after time.

Benicio del Toro leads the sprawling cast as unscrupulous business titan and war profiteer Zsa-zsa Korda. Frequently targeted for sabotage and assassination by his many enemies, Korda plans to put together the financing for a massive infrastructure project in the imaginary nation of Phoenicia with the help of his young adult daughter Liesl (Threapleton), who has taken vows to become a nun. Along with newly acquired administrative assistant Bjørn (Cera), Zsa-zsa and Liesl meet with a lineup of eccentric potential co-investors to cover the budgetary shortfall Korda refers to as “The Gap.” In keeping with his affinity for onscreen text, charts, maps, headings and diagrams, Anderson dutifully apprises the audience of the ever-changing share percentages pledged by Korda’s associates.

Set in 1950, the tale of adventure, espionage, price-fixing and revolution develops themes of redemption, forgiveness and spirituality as another of Anderson’s “bad dads” comes to a better understanding of himself through a complex parental relationship. At the risk of identifying the less fanciful and more emotionally-grounded contents of the movie within the parameters of an autobiographical reading, Anderson dedicates the movie to his late father-in-law, Fouad Mikhael Maalouf, whose initially intimidating demeanor inspired elements of Korda. In press interviews, Anderson has also mentioned his relationship to his own mom and dad. And of course, the director has been a father since 2016.

Certainly, the homage paid by Anderson to Ernst Lubitsch at least as early as “The Grand Budapest Hotel” ignites the harder-than-it-looks blend of screwball comedy, romanticism and moments of shining emotional transcendence that fuel “The Phoenician Scheme.” The similarities extend to the central triangles composed of the former movie’s Gustave/Zero/Agatha and the latter’s Zsa-zsa/Liesl/Bjørn. Devoted Anderson disciples will have a ball debating their favorite laugh-out-loud moments, which run the gamut from outrageous slapstick pratfalls and hand-to-hand combat to ridiculous and sublime dialogue. While subject to change with multiple viewings, my current favorite is Bjørn’s awkward declaration to Liesl onboard yet another ill-fated Air Korda plane.

Anderson’s films are a repository of his passions for fine art, music and cinephilia. “The Phoenician Scheme” makes inspiring use of Stravinsky and Mussorgsky alongside Glenn Miller and Gene Krupa. A monochromatic series of holy dreams/visions conjures up Luis Buñuel. And in another stroke of Andersonian ambition, several original paintings — not reproductions — bring their aura to the screen in cameo appearances, including a Renoir once owned by Greta Garbo. The masterworks are even given dedicated credits. All of these meticulous details contribute to a whole experience that beautifully concludes with a powerful epiphany: Korda’s real Phoenician Scheme is not a failure at all.