The Phoenician Scheme

Benicio Del Toro and Mia Threapleton 

Wes Anderson's The Phoenician Scheme is his most tiresome flick since The Darjeeling Limited. Set in the 1950s, the film is replete with the visual touches that always make Anderson's films watchable. However, the central story, in which an aging and beleaguered business titan (Benicio Del Toro) forsakes his pursuit of lucre to in order to bond with his family, is a flimsy excuse for a road movie. Del Toro's character, monikered Anatole "Zsa-Zsa" Korda must drum up funding for his latest financial flim flam, the titular scheme. In tow are his daughter (a habited Mia Threapleton) and a nebbish (Michael Cera) who is not what he seems. They fly from point to point meeting up with big name stars (Tom Hanks, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch) stuck in one dimensional roles. Hanks wields a Coke bottle to underline the fact that his character is an American while Bryan Cranston brandishes a Hershey bar. Most of the supporting players are wasted, but I did enjoy Richard Ayode as a revolutionary leader and Bill Murray as God.

God shows up in black and white dream sequences that haunt Korda and hammer into his, and the viewer's, head his disconnection with his family. The plot is so low stakes that the film feels twee and overly Apollonian, Wes Anderson's Achilles heel. Given the way the decor in Korda's private planes changes, the film should have been called The Color Scheme. The picture feels overly thought over and hermetic. Korda is supposed to be a flamboyant and grandiose persona, but Del Toro is miscast because he is better at burrowing into his character's depths rather than puffing up a character's pretensions. Threapleton seems promising, but her character is locked in deadpan mode. I don't think she blinked the entire film. Cera is redundant in a Wes Anderson film: twee on twee. What is lacking are moments like those in Anderson's oeuvre that have a smack of reality: Owen Wilson looking wistful in prison garb in Bottle Rocket, Brian Cox berating Jason Schwartzman in Rushmore or Saoirse Ronan smiling at her beloved in The Grand Budapest Hotel. The Phoenician Scheme is handsomely appointed and diverting with, on paper, a fabulous cast, but it is devoid of such memorable moments.