'The Phoenician Scheme' Review: Fun, Fast-paced Comedy With Wes Anderson on Autopilot
- Dan Bremner
- May 25
- 4 min read
By Dan Bremner - May 25, 2025
Wes Anderson’s 13th feature, The Phoenician Scheme, the latest from the merchant of whimsy and quirk left me more dazed than delighted. As a fan who’s been let down by French Dispatch’s flatness and Asteroid City’s obnoxious self-parody, I hoped for a rebound.
This picaresque caper delivers fun, fast-paced comedy and visual dazzle, with a killer cast, but its muddled plot and familiar tricks feel like Anderson on autopilot. At 101 minutes, it’s a kaleidoscopic blast that’s unmistakably his, (worthy of applause in a world of generic blockbusters), but its lack of fresh sparks keeps it from reaching his highs, a lesser work that won’t linger long in my memory.
What is 'The Phoenician Scheme' About?
Wealthy businessman, Zsa-zsa Korda appoints his only daughter, a nun, as sole heir to his estate. As Korda embarks on a new enterprise, they soon become the target of scheming tycoons, foreign terrorists, and determined assassins.
Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro), a 1950s tycoon shrugging off plane crashes and hitmen, names his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), a nun-in-training, as heir to his shadowy empire. Their frantic dash across the fictional “Phoenicia” to bankroll a cryptic waterworks deal draws tycoons (Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston) and assassins, with Michael Cera’s awkward tutor Bjorn in tow. Anderson’s “shoeboxed” structure, vignettes like stacked dioramas, zips by, but it’s a mixed bag. The relentless pace hooks you, yet the plot’s so tangled I got lost, unsure if I was overcomplicating a simple yarn or wrestling with something convoluted and confusing.
Del Toro and Cera steal the show, dominating every scene. Del Toro’s Korda, a deadpan mogul who treats assassination attempts like minor annoyances, radiates cool menace and a magnetic nature, his sly drawl a comedic gem. Cera’s Bjorn, a nerdy entomologist with a fake Swedish accent and sudden karate kicks, is a riot, his quirky charm a standout. Their chemistry with Threapleton’s stoic Liesl steadies the chaos, though the ensemble that includes Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Scarlett Johansson shines in quick cameos, except for Benedict Cumberbatch’s Nubar, whose wild, bearded overacting feels like a cartoon baddie gone awry and distracting.
Anderson’s Whimsical Visuals and Playful Sound
Anderson’s visuals are a feast, as expected. Bruno Delbonnel’s (His first time working with Anderson, but a regular to The Coen Brothers and Tim Burton) cinematography crafts a 1950s industrial look, grey-green tunnels, art deco lounges, but yet every frame pops with charming details: Liesl’s jewelled pipe, analogue gadgets and colourful documents standout. Adam Stockhausen’s production design, from compact sets to a bizarre basketball-court train, holds the usual meticulous whimsy, with the added bonus of miniatures. Alexandre Desplat’s score, jazzy and sprightly, propels the action with a playful bounce, though it lacks the distinction to help it truly stand-out.
The humour lands with dry, absurd glee, including recurring gags like Korda’s vague nods to old associates turned killers had some laughs, and his nonchalant reactions to near-death (grenades, poison poisoned wine and bombs) are comic gold. The “shoeboxed” vignettes, stuffed with zingy lines and visual gags, evoke a blackly comedic playful anarchy. And while fun, it feels like Anderson recycling familiar beats of deadpan quips, characters delivering extended monologues with long words to the camera and emotionless responses without breaking new ground.
The father-daughter bond between Korda and Liesl is the film’s heart, a wholesome thread weaving through the espionage and absurdity. Their reconciliation, built on shared danger and subtle glances, delivers a warm, redemptive ending that feels earned, landing with a strong payoff. Yet, the emotional depth is undercut by the breakneck pace and overcrowded cast. I prefer Anderson’s intimate, character-driven The Royal Tenenbaums, where relationships resonate, over this sprawling, surface-level sprint.
Wes Anderson on Autopilot
The film’s biggest stumble is truly its lack of surprises. Anderson’s trademarks of symmetrical frames, chapter cards, star cameos are here, but they’re predictable by this point. The black-and-white heaven scenes, with Bill Murray as a cryptic deity, are visually arresting but narratively hollow, more style than substance. The 101-minute runtime never drags, yet the episodic structure feels like a checklist of quirks for Anderson’s familiar style. If you’re tuned to Anderson’s frequency, you’ll eat it up, if not, this won’t win you over. it’s Wes doing Wes, no more, no less. For better or worse.
The Phoenician Scheme is a spirited step up from Asteroid City’s misfire, but it’s a minor Anderson entry that plays it safe. Del Toro and Cera shine, the visuals enchant, and the father-daughter arc has heart, but the confusing plot and recycled tricks hold it back. Ultimately it's a fun romp for fans, but I left wanting the depth of Anderson’s best over this flashy, fleeting caper. It’s distinctly his, which is something, but I'm ready for him to do something new.
The Phoenician Scheme is out now in UK cinemas
Want more Wes Anderson reviews? Check out Asteroid City & the 2023 Wes Anderson shorts, plus more content on our website Film Focus Online!
