Released in late May of this year, director Wes Anderson set his sights on a distinct, yet deeply familiar story about a wealthy European tycoon and his estranged daughter, who just so happens to be a nun. “The Phoenician Scheme” is Anderson’s latest endeavor, and just like “Asteroid City,” this film ended up being a lot more profound than audiences had originally expected. While not his best film by any means, hidden within this bleak comedy, one finds a confrontation between dying and guilt over the life one has built.
The film revolves around Zsa-Zsa Korsa (played by Benicio Del Toro), a European Oligarch who faces repeated yet unsuccessful assassination attempts, who needs to fix “the gap” to ensure that his fortune stays with him. He teams up with his daughter Liesl (played by Mia Threapleton) in part so he can measure her worthiness of the family fortune, despite the fact he has 10 other kids he could speak to They go on a journey to trick and deceive Zsa-Zsa’s various business partners into paying “the gap” to the Phoenician Scheme so he doesn’t have to do so himself. He intends to minimize the cost by using slave labor to maximize his profits. Throughout the film, they also fall victim to various unsuccessful assassination attempts, and Zsa-Zsa himself faces many near-death experiences in the film. In this, he is shown visions of a divine courtroom, where he is the defendant in the case to enter Heaven.
These visions of Heaven are filmed in black and white. This, in contrast to the rest of the overly saturated film, allows for Heaven’s scenes to be more emotionally resonant. It allows for an insight into Zsa-Zsa’s character, specifically his psyche. They reveal a sense of newfound guilt within Zsa-Zsa, especially as the film progresses. As for the rest of the film, it follows what is typically associated with Anderson —title cards, dry and deadpan humor, symmetry, and vibrant colors.
In his life, Zsa-Zsa has been a man defined by his apathy and amorality. He is not a complete monster, and neither is he a saint. He neither cares to show his children any warmth nor does he care enough to physically abuse them. He has no relationships to speak of, no friends to talk to, no women to come home to. His life is filled with ornate decorations but lacks the substance to be something real. Any assassination attempt is met with annoyance if not outright dismissal. He behaves as if death is ever-present and far-fetched. He doesn’t care for his life enough to place it above his need for a fortune. As he keeps dying, though, his conscience and guilt start to take a toll on him, resulting in him reflecting on the course of his actions.
