El esquema fenicio

This is a gloriously mad film from beginning to end.

Personally I laughed a lot and really enjoyed it, but it will definitely leave many people cold. There's no point to it, you won't be enriched, the plot never really becomes clear, and none of the characters is really sympathetic.

It felt very like a Monty Python film to me - absurdism, unexpected shifts, weird motifs, and recurrent dream sequences highly reminiscent of Terry Gilliam's cartoon interludes. And it's almost as silly.

An incredible cast of actors is reduced to a series of bit-part cameos, which should be annoying, but I couldn't help thinking that it was probably enormous fun to make. And Bill Murray as God is without doubt one of my favourite ever bits of casting. The Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston double act is a total hoot.

So I certainly can't recommend it to everyone, but I will definitely recommend it to people who I think will get it. And l'll probably be wrong. The world needs more weirdness like this, to counterbalance the weirdness that matters. Enjoy.

'The Phoenician Scheme (2025)' is, unsurprisingly, unmistakably a Wes Anderson movie. At this point, a "Wes Anderson movie" is almost a genre in and of itself. I'm pretty sure the quirky writer-director could do this in his sleep by now, and it kind of feels like that's what he's been doing recently. He consistently churns out films with no real theme or narrative drive or even reason to exist other than to suitably fit into the twee style he has curated over his career, crafting experiences that are ostensibly style as substance but often feel closer to all style and no substance. What I mean is that where his earlier films felt as though he was using his style to tell a specific and meaningful story, his more recent efforts feel like he is fitting a story into his style. He comes up with quaint nonsense that can be easily configured into the still-pleasing shape all his work takes, putting very little into things like theme or character or emotion. His work is starting to get a tiny bit tedious because it feels like he's simply going through the motions, never really challenging himself or using his specific talents to do anything other than the same thing he's been doing for years. That's not to imply that his newest stuff is bad, as they're just as good as any of his holistically more successful efforts from a formal and technical point of view, but they do lack a certain essentiality that makes them feel ever-so-slightly ho-hum. His latest feature - a business-centred pseudo satirical comedy starring a deadpan Benicio Del Toro, a commanding Mia Threapleton and an absurd Michael Cera, alongside a litany of famous faces both familiar and new - is a perfectly serviceable effort, filled with plenty of visual delight and enjoyable eccentricities. It's undeniable Anderson has complete control of his craft, capable of finely tuning his oxymoronically homogeneous idiosyncrasies so they still enchant even if they no longer surprise. However, it's sort of expected at this point that he can - and will - deliver something like this to this level of quality, which has the unfortunate side-effect of dampening the effectiveness - or, at least, novelty - of his cinematic prowess. The strength of his direction and the specificity of his writing aren't as potent as they once were precisely because they've been at the same level for so long that they're part of the proverbial furniture at this point. Of course, taking excellence for granted isn't something that ought to be encouraged, but it's undeniably difficult to get excited about something we've seen so many times before. Plus, it doesn't help that nothing in this flick hasn't been done better before in one of Anderson's earlier efforts. To be fair, it isn't actually any worse than his previous few, at least formally and technically speaking. However, there is a sense that he's running out of steam - or, at least, resting on his laurels - and comfortably releasing self-eating snakes that are so specifically 'Wes Anderson' that they're almost parodies of actual 'Wes Anderson' films. Still, the movie is enjoyable enough for what it is. It's never boring, moves at a pleasant pace, is well-made in its every aspect, and also provokes a handful of chuckles. The problem is that it only ever connects so deeply, that it never truly moves or inspires. That's primarily because there's no real sense of emotion to it, despite it having a family-focused central arc, and it also isn't really about anything. It's a good effort, for sure, and will probably feel extremely refreshing if you aren't all that familiar with its directors work. It's just a little hard to get excited about something that honestly seems a bit perfunctory. Maybe that's too harsh a term, but it's certainly something that comes to mind as you watch the feature unfold. Again, it is entertaining and it is well-crafted. Its cast, most of whom are now veterans in this field, know exactly what to do with the dialogue they're given, and Wes Anderson's signature style is still fairly fun even after all this time. It isn't hilarious, but there are a handful of funny gags and even more mildly amusing moments, and the narrative is engaging for its entirety. By the same token, though it's only ever mildly amusing, never really getting out of second - or, potentially, third - gear and therefore feeling like one of its director's more minor efforts. It's good enough for what it is, and - again - is very confident and compelling when it comes to its form, but it's just lacking a certain something that's difficult to put my finger on. It's a solid effort, and I definitely don't regret seeing it, but it certainly isn't one of Anderson's best. It's inessential, but enjoyable nevertheless.

If I could sum up Wes Anderson's films in one word, it would be "meticulous". Everything in his frames, dialogue, design and production is carefully manicured to a T, and as a result is both very beautiful and hilarious.

As a result of this, all of his films feel like they are on a knife's edge to tip to either an enjoyable masterpiece or a tedious dud. This one feels more like the latter.

It's not to say there aren't some good or funny moments, along with a fantastic cast. But the main relationship between a high ranking corrupt tycoon and his estranged religious daughter never really feels like it hits that mark of deep emotional resonance.

The Grand Budapest Hotel remains his magnum opus. And Henry Sugar is also when Wes is at his finest, which earned him an Oscar for Best Short.

Phoenician felt like a beautiful looking piece added to his collection rather than a film.

Many world-renowned auteurs with distinct styles take years between projects-filmmakers like Christopher Nolan, Kathryn Bigelow, or Steve McQueen. Wes Anderson is inarguably in league with them. Yet lately, he seems to be hurting his own legacy by producing too much, too quickly. In the past five years alone, he's released four feature films and four short films-including The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar (2023), which finally earned him his first Oscar. The latest in this near-annual output is The Phoenician Scheme (2025).

The Phoenician Scheme tells the story of wealthy and maligned industrialist Zsa Zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro), who, after surviving one too many assassination attempts by rivals, names his forgotten novitiate daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton) as his sole heir-over his eight sons. Together with Liesl and his insect-obsessed secretary Bjorn (Michael Cera), he sets off to secure his magnum opus: a network of infrastructure projects in Phoenicia.

Since Isle of Dogs (2018), Anderson's films have increasingly felt like cast reunions performing stylized imitations of his earlier work, rather than urgent artistic ventures. Both The French Dispatch (2021) and Asteroid City (2023) wandered through quirk without narrative drive-pleasant but aimless. His Roald Dahl short films, by contrast, felt stronger, largely because they stuck closer to plot, message, and character. In The Phoenician Scheme, Anderson attempts a return to plot, giving his aesthetic more structure and a clearer objective.

Yet the story at the film's core feels creaky. It plays like a director trying to reawaken his own narrative instincts, so strong in weaving together tones and threads in The Royal Tenenbaums (2001) or The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014). The Phoenician Scheme in contrast lacks emotional depth. It rarely moves beyond clever quips and fails to fully explore the father-daughter relationship central to the film. The political commentary, meanwhile, is blunt and didactic, sacrificing subtlety and impact in favor of heavy-handed messaging.

Anderson has always toyed with caricature and cliché-it's part of his charm. But here, the self-awareness seems to have dulled. There are still magically hilarious moments where everything clicks-like a high-stakes basketball game featuring Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston-but many other scenes come across as oblivious to their own hollow aphorisms and tropes.

The cast, as ever, is impressive-and thankfully more curtailed than in recent ensemble-heavy efforts. This tighter scope allows for some character development. Newcomers Threapleton and Cera adapt well to Anderson's rapid-fire, deadpan style. Del Toro, however-despite being one of the most talented and underrated actors of the past few decades-feels miscast. His gritty, grounded style clashes with Anderson's hyper-stylized cadence. Del Toro seems out of sync, his performance feeling stiff and unnatural. Zsa Zsa doesn't come across as a genuine industrialist, but rather as someone pretending to be one.

That said, Anderson's signature aesthetic remains intact. The film is visually immaculate, his humor still lands in places, and the editing maintains that conspiratorial wink to the audience. Wisely, Anderson pulls back from the exaggerated look of Asteroid City and The French Dispatch, which had begun to feel like parodies of his own work.

Ultimately, The Phoenician Scheme corrects some of Anderson's recent missteps but still leaves viewers emotionally cold and narratively uninvested. The technical mastery is still there, and familiar faces remain endearing, but Del Toro's misaligned performance in such a pivotal role weakens the film's core. The result is a forgettable, if not unwelcome, addition to Anderson's unique filmography. One hopes the American director continues to pursue his singular style-but slows down and reinvests in story and heart next time around. There's no need to rush.

MOONRISE KINGDOM was the first Wes Anderson movie I saw, and it's still my favorite. His newest is THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME, a caper about Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro), a businessman trying to squeeze his investors for more money to help overhaul the infrastructure of Phoenicia with slave labor. Joining him on his swindling journey are his estranged nun-to-be daughter Liesel (Mia Threapleton) and his assistant/tutor Bjørn (Michael Cera). It's a wonder how this is the first Anderson film that has Cera in it, the style is a perfect fit for him. If you're not familiar with the style, it's basically side scrolling camera work, symmetrical compositions, vibrant colors, and quick, whimsical dialogue. His best works have both style and substance. This movie definitely has the style, but I think the substance was lacking for me. Maybe I'm just getting tired of his schtick. The plot felt too mechanical and less emotional. It didn't truly have me invested in any of the characters. I laughed quite a bit though. It's always fun to see who Anderson has in his movies. They probably just come in for a day or two, have some fun filming their scene then leave. As always, this has exquisite art direction and production design. I really enjoyed the main trio. Ultimately, THE PHOENICIAN SCHEME boils down to whether or not you're a fan of Wes Anderson movies. This is one of the quirkier ones in his repertoire. In my opinion, it's visually beautiful and funny, but forgettable.