the phoenecian scheme

July 18 – 21:

  7 pm Nightly

Fri July 18

  3:30 Premier Screening

Sun July 20:

  1:30 Sunday Matinee

Rated PG – 1hr 43min
Comedy / Adventure

*don’t forget we have AIR CONDITIONING & new seats!

The Phoenician Scheme, Anderson’s 13th feature film, contains faint echoes of his 2014 opus The Grand Budapest Hotel. Like that dazzling comedy-drama, it’s a surreal period piece set in mid-20th century Europe. But The Phoenician Scheme is also something more intimate: a redemption story focusing on Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro), a slippery businessman who brokers mega-deals in exchange for a hefty percentage. Korda wields so much sway that governments and business rivals want him dead, which is why his private jet keeps crashing down to earth.

The good news is that The Phoenician Scheme is one of Anderson’s funnier films, with a commitment to knockabout zaniness which lets you smile at the Anderson-ishness rather than simply roll your eyes at it. The opening sequence, especially, is a madcap treat. Benicio del Toro is introduced as Zsa-zsa Korda, an amoral 1950s businessman who seems to have been inspired by the super-rich likes of William Randolph Hearst, J Paul Getty, Aristotle Onassis and Howard Hughes – and who bears a certain resemblance to the patriarch in The Royal Tenenbaums, too. He’s first seen puffing a cigar on his private jet, and then surviving one of the assassination attempts that are a regular part of his life – and his miraculous escape has enough energy to make you giddy.

As ever, Anderson really cranks up the knowing whimsy. We see Korda grappling with his conscience in dream sequences where God is played by Bill Murray – who else? But The Phoenician Scheme never becomes smug or too self-referential; it’s simply a lot of fun peppered with unexpected bursts of action, a new addition to the Anderson arsenal. In her first major film role, Threapleton (whose mum is Kate Winslet) initially seems mannered. But by the end, her poised performance feels like a key piece of the puzzle: Liesl is a calm, almost catatonic counterpoint to Cera’s quirkier turn and del Toro’s alpha charisma. It all adds up to a superior Wes Anderson confection: the surface gleams with a retro sheen, but there’s enough going on underneath to leave a lasting impression.

Anderson throws in references to many other filmmakers. The warped-dream-like logic of the storytelling owes a debt to Spanish surrealist maestro Luis Bunuel. The meditations on religion and mortality wouldn’t be out of place in a Bergman movie. Each scene contains something to savour – a goofy visual gag, some deadpan dialogue or the use of a surprising prop (for instance, the grenades that Korda gives to guests as treats). This, then, is everything you expect from a Wes Anderson film. If you like his work, you’ll love it.