The Phoenician Scheme
Wes Anderson’s latest highly symmetrical adventure, “The Phoenician Scheme”, which follows the globetrotting exploits of an international business magnate/Howard Hughes-esque madman named Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro), as he attempts to finalize his grandest venture yet while reconnecting with his estranged, aspiring nun, daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton), is a fantastic reminder that you can’t always judge a film until the credits roll.
“The Phoenician Scheme” has all the quirks that have made Anderson both a master of style that borders on obsession and an artist often credibly accused of being cold to the point of cryogenic. While most of his films share a similar visual and aesthetic palette (“Grand Budapest Hotel”, “The French Dispatch”, “The Fantastic Mr. Fox”), I might argue that the best of his films side step fanatical devotion to his predetermined style in favor of a narrative warmth that punches through the carefully constructed visual artifice (“Darjeeling Limited”, “Asteroid City”). I feared for most of its runtime that “The Phoenician Scheme” would fall into the former category, ignoring the visual delight and inventiveness of a movie like “Budapest” in favor of something borderline cadaverous, where scenes play out like paper doll dioramas and actors may as well be marionettes for whom life has been breathed, if not emotion. But then the film reached the ending sequence, the epilogue, and the full scope of Anderson’s intent became clear, recoloring the rest of the film in retrospect and raising its esteem in my mind significantly.
“The Phoenician Scheme” features Anderson’s full cast of regular company players, with Michael Cera, Willem Dafoe, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Scarlett Johansson, Bill Murray, Benedict Cumberbatch, Riz Ahmed, and many other of the finest performers alive all game for goofy fun. For my part, I found myself baffled by how little fun I was actually having and how little meaning I found in the storytelling. The machinations of a lunatic billionaire who can snub his nose at the real world fallout of his designs for world domination do not inherently inspire sympathy, despite del Toro committing to the part with aplomb. The film, told in five or so chapters that delineate Korda’s attempts to swindle funds from his business partners for the aforementioned “Scheme”, began to feel like a train ride to nowhere, with antics abounding without any apparent destination in sight. For a moment, I believed we were barreling toward a cliff. But then, there was the ending; the epilogue chapter, which finds Korda and his daughter transformed into a wholly new life of purpose and devotion well beyond the extravagance of espionage and assassination plots. For the last fifteen minutes of the film, Anderson’s thesis blooms into the warmth and messy contentment of a life spent caring for one’s little corner of the world. To paraphrase Liesl upon story’s end, sometimes the good of one’s pursuits is not understood until long after we are dead. Perhaps time and perseverance are the most potent tools of love and progress, slowly eroding past wrongs and failures to create something malformed but unique. It’s possible that, ultimately, the real Phoenician Scheme was the family we found along the way.
And whoever said Wes Anderson was unfeeling?
“The Phoenician Scheme” is playing at The Broad Theater, Prytania Uptown, and Prytania Theatres at Canal Place.
Kevin Smith’s Dogma
Kevin Smith’s cheekily Catholic, yet somehow biblically accurate, heavenly opus “Dogma” arises from the ashes of corporate ownership damnation to bless a new generation with its nonsense. For twenty-five years, “Dogma” has only been viewable through DVD or bootleg, making it a nearly lost piece of media in an era when such a fate for a film feels impossible. Lucky for moviegoers everywhere, and especially the teenagers for whom “Dogma” was ostensibly made, Smith and Co. have regained ownership and are rolling the movie out on movie screens across the nation.
The fourth film from one of the quintessential filmmakers of the 90s, Smith’s “Dogma” follows the dueling exploits of a pair of angels (Ben Affleck and Matt Damon), cast from heaven for refusing to slaughter in God’s name, who hope to utilize an earthly loophole in Catholic dogma to return to the heavenly gates. Meanwhile a rag tag team of God’s chosen avengers are tasked with with stopping them; a team which includes the Voice of God (Alan Rickman), an abortion clinic worker (Linda Florentino), the thirteenth disciple that nobody ever talks about (Chris Rock), and a familiar pair of hapless stoners called Jay and Silent Bob (Jason Mewes and Kevin Smith).
“Dogma” has long been my favorite of Smith’s films, a deeply earnest dissection of his own Catholic upbringing that is slavishly devoted to the lore of the Bible while also gleefully snubbing its nose at the belief’s hypocrisies at every turn. It’s hard to imagine a film that has the bandwidth to both speak on the nature of faith and one’s purpose in a world seemingly abandoned by God that also features an excrement demon born from the rectal expulsions of crucified men and a crowd-pleasing set piece where Affleck and Damon’s angels exact holy vengeance against the idolaters of a Disney-esque multi-national conglomerate called Mooby’s. There’s a lot going on in this one, and it’s a delight from beginning to end.
It’s rare that a film is resurrected from the depths and re-presented to a new generation of audiences ready to embrace it, but when it does happen, it is certainly worth celebrating. So check out “Dogma” for a flashback to the irreverence of the ’90s on the big screen, where both the faithful and the lapsed find a like purpose basking in the power of cinema to bring folks together. You might even throw a Hail Mary or two Buddy Christ’s way while you’re at it.
You’ll be glad you did.
“Dogma” is playing at Prytania Theatres at Canal Place.
