Wes Anderson’s “The Phoenician Scheme” is one of his funniest and most chaotic films in recent years. On the surface, it plays like a lighthearted caper, filled with ridiculous situations, sharp visual humor, and the kind of deadpan performances we’ve come to expect from him.
But beneath all the silliness, Anderson seems to be asking some serious questions—about family, legacy, power, and morality.
Benicio del Toro leads the film as Zsa-Zsa Korda, a strange and powerful businessman who has somehow survived six assassination attempts, including multiple plane crashes. After the latest attempt on his life, he decides it’s time to name an heir to his empire. He has nine sons (many of them adopted for their intellectual potential), but he chooses instead to train his daughter, Liesl (Mia Threapleton), who also happens to be a nun.
Together, they go on a globe-spanning mission to secure funding for a mysterious deal. The film never fully explains the details of the scheme, which is both intentional and a bit frustrating. What matters more is the journey—and the bizarre cast of characters they meet along the way. The ensemble is stacked: Riz Ahmed plays a prince, Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston are brothers, Mathieu Amalric owns a nightclub, and Scarlett Johansson and Jeffrey Wright show up as eccentric American relatives. Bill Murray appears as God in a series of surreal biblical visions, and Benedict Cumberbatch steals scenes as the wild-eyed Uncle Nubar.
Yet the standout is Michael Cera, who delivers a quietly brilliant performance as Liesl’s awkward tutor. He brings a strange charm to every scene he’s in—funny, offbeat, and surprisingly moving. It’s one of his best roles to date, and one of the most perfect actor-director pairings in Anderson’s career.
While the film delivers laughs and visual flair, its plot often feels vague. There’s a subplot involving Liesl’s mother and a possible murder, but it never quite takes shape. The business negotiations between Korda and the many figures he meets are intentionally convoluted, and the film sometimes gets lost in its own eccentricity.
Even so, Anderson explores something deeper here. Korda is a man who has lived by ruthless principles—“If something gets in your way, flatten it,” he says. But as he nears the end of his life, faced with repeated brushes with death and visions of the afterlife, he begins to question what his success has really meant. These moments give the film a reflective, almost spiritual undercurrent.
“The Phoenician Scheme” may not have the emotional weight of “Asteroid City” or the structural ambition of “The French Dispatch,” but it still feels personal. It’s a film about a man trying to find meaning—through religion, through family, and maybe even through comedy. Wes Anderson might be having fun here, but he’s also doing some quiet soul-searching.
It’s not his most impactful work, but it’s watchable, often hilarious, and made with the kind of detailed craftsmanship only he can pull off.
