The Phoenician Scheme

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Benecio del Toro, Mia Threapleton, Michael Cera, Riz Ahmed, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, Mathieu Amalric, Richard Ayoade, Jeffrey Wright, Scarlett Johansson, Benedict Cumberbatch, Rupert Friend, Hope Davis, Bill Murray, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Willem Dafoe, F. Murray Abraham, Stephen Park
Running Time: 101 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)       

For anyone wondering how a Wes Anderson directed international espionage picture would play out, an answer comes with The Phoenician Scheme, which looks and feels a lot like previous Anderson efforts. But that's only bad news if you happen to detest his dry humor, twee tone, penchant for recycling the same actors in different roles, or even that unmistakable Futura font. And while it all converges into a distinctive style sometimes known as the "Anderson aesthetic," it has just as many fans as detractors, many of whom eagerly await each new release. 

When cinephiles rank Anderson's' divisive output there's largely agreement on what they've seen, often causing them to love and hate chosen titles for exactly the same reasons.  But after the visual and narrative spectacle of Asteroid City hinted at more complex themes bubbling just under the surface of its meta structure, this satire reprsents the latest signpost for his brand of mannered quirkiness. And though it can't help but feel like a slight step back in comparison, there's no denying it still showcases what he does best. 

It's 1950 and eccentric arms dealer/industrialist Anatole "Zsa-Zsa" Korda (Benicio del Toro) is busy trying to evade multiple assassination attempts until a horrific plane crash nearly does him in. Fearing time may be running out, he attempts to reconnect with his only daughter, Liesel (Mia Threapleton), a Catholic nun repulsed by her father's behavior and suspicious he murdered her mom. Still, he persuades her to leave the Church to help run his business on a trial basis, also hiring Norwegian entomologist and family tutor Bjørn (Michael Cera) as administrative assistant.

Risking his wealth on a scheme to overhaul Phoenicia's infrastructure with slave labor, Korda plots to thwart the government's plans to bankrupt him by duping investors into covering the budget shortfall. Joined by Liesel and Bjørn, he starts with Californians Leland (Tom Hanks) and Reagan (Bryan Cranston) before moving on to French nightclub owner Marseille Bob (Mathieu Amalric), Newark investor Marty (Jeffrey Wright), and even his own cousin, Hilda (Scarlett Johansson), an heiress to the family fortune. Infuriating them with his lies, Korda refuses to enlist the help of estranged half-brother Nubar (Benedict Cumberbatch) due to their troubled history. But as Liesel spends more time with her dad, she reluctantly holds out hope that he's capable of change.

Somehow both convoluted and mind numbingly simple, the plot's almost beside the point, serving as an excuse for its characters to engage in the absurd, but highly entertaining hijinx put in motion by Korda's embarrassing scheme. Much of why involves the road trip element, which gives Anderson's troupe of regulars a chance to shine in wildly different roles. But none of that would be possible without del Toro's brilliantly bonkers performance as Korda, a clear amalgamation of narcissistic industrialists like William Randolph Hearst and Aristotle Onassis. 

Anderson employs a treasure trove of cultural, historical and cinematic references to fill out this story centering around his main character's eccentric peculiarities, such as adopting as many kids as possible and organizing his business files into separate shoeboxes. Del Toro has to walk a thin line line here, playing a selfish swindler, deadbeat dad and charmingly likable rogue all wrapped into one, showing just enough humanity for us to understand why Leisel bothers sticking around.

Amid a flood of famous faces, it's a revelatory Threapleton who makes the strongest impression as Liesel, whose faith is tested when confronted with the prospect of not only forgiving her emotionally inaccessible dad, but somehow forging an actual relationship with him. And it's when her character experiences Korda's moral failings up close that Threapleton's sarcastic wit and bemused facial expressions supply the film its heart. And opposite both in his largest Anderson role to date, an ideally cast Cera plays the awkward, bumbling Bjørn to perfection, just as we'd expect.  

While Hanks and Cranston's appearances do feel more like celebrity cameos than fleshed out parts, they're still sort of a hoot as brothers, with Wright and Johansson managing to give the looniest, most worthwhile turns of the investors. Others like Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe, Hope Davis and F. Murray Abraham only pop in and out. It's really the uncomfortable camaraderie between Korda and his two travel companions that carry this, leading right into the eventual sibling showdown with Cumberbatch's scary, bushy eyebrowed Nubar. The result is a surprisingly sentimental finale that prioritizes substance over style. 

Anchored by a charismatically flawed character in the vein of odd, ornery Anderson protagonists like Royal Tenenbaum and Steve Zisssou, it's hard not to wish this was at least slightly better, or even a little less messy. But with a trio of tremendous lead performances, a clever structure and stretches of hilarity, there's a lot to appreciate. Those rooting for Anderson to completely step outside the box may have to wait a little longer, but in giving us more of the same he continues to prove that few do it better.                        

Asteroid City

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Jason Schwartzman, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Hanks, Jeffrey Wright, Tilda Swinton, Bryan Cranston, Edward Norton, Adrien Brody, Liev Schreiber, Hope Davis, Stephen Park, Rupert Friend, Maya Hawke, Steve Carell, Matt Dillon, Hong Chau, Willem Dafoe, Margot Robbie, Tony Revolori, Jake Ryan, Grace Edwards, Aristou Meehan, Sophia Lillis, Ethan Josh Lee, Jeff Goldblum
Running Time: 105 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

The style vs. substance debate that's followed Wes Anderson throughout his career again rears its head with Asteroid City, an ambitious effort from a very distinctive filmmaker sure to split critics and audiences down the middle. He must be used to it by now, considering how each new release is accompanied by conversations about how Andersonian it really is. For rabid devotees, there's no such thing as too much, whereas just a couple of minutes is more than enough for the harshest detractors. But even as his singular aesthetic still prompts accusations of superficial repetitiveness, few contemporary directors have amassed a body of work so instantly recognizable. No matter what you think of it.  

For all the SNL skits or viral video spoofs, making a Wes Anderson picture is a market he'll always have cornered because there's an underlying sincerity to what he does that no one's been able to duplicate. Even when the execution seems like a parody of itself, there's more there. It's especially true of his best efforts like Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums, where style and substance overlap in character-driven stories that go to deeper, rawer places many feel he hasn't returned to since. The jury's still out on where this one lands, but it's definitely a departure of sorts. Or at least as much of a departure as we've gotten from the divisive director in a long time. 

The film's retro futuristic desert setting is a hugely impressive visual achievement brought to surreal life by Robert Yeoman's cinematography and Adam Stockhausen's production design. But there's also a meta layer that distinguishes it, as a stacked cast pulls double duty in both a black-and-white TV documentary special of a play and the play's events, presented in vibrant color. It's also a pastiche of postwar Americana, UFO paranoia and old Hollywood moviemaking that further explores the themes of grief and ostracization constantly present in Anderson's output. In other words, there's a lot to unpack.

The film opens in black-and-white as a TV host (Bryan Cranston) introduces renowned playwright Conrad Earp's (Edward Norton) production of "Asteroid City," a play that takes place in a fictional 1955 desert town of the same name. In it, war photographer Augie Steenbeck (Jason Schwartzman) arrives with his intellectual teen son Woodrow (Jake Ryan) and three daughters at the Junior Stargazer convention where Woodrow is being honored. But Augie's inability to tell the kids of their mother's recent death complicates his already fragile relationship with curmudgeonly father-in-law Stanley (Tom Hanks). 

Also in town is Midge Campbell (Scarlett Johansson), a famous, melancholy actress whose teen daughter Dinah (Grace Edwards) is also being recognized at the convention. Among the other attendees are elementary school teacher June Douglas (Maya Hawke) and her class, a cowboy band led by a singer named Montana (Rupert Friend), the brilliant but eccentric astronomer Dr. Hickenlooper (Tilda Swinton) and five star General Grif Gibson (Jeffrey Wright). 

When a major extraterrestrial event inexplicably occurs during the awards presentation, the U.S. government frantically intervenes to contain the site and quarantine witnesses in town. We're also shown glimpses of the TV special detailing the play's evolution, as the actors struggle to make sense of their roles, most notably Schwartzman's Jones Hall, who helplessly turns to director Schubert Green (Adrien Brody) for creative guidance.

It isn't clear where the story's going for much of the first forty minutes, or even if it's headed in a direction that would set it apart from what we've already seen from Anderson. And despite his penchant for attracting huge names, the involvement of Hanks and Johansson doesn't necessarily signify we're in for something especially unique, as sometimes even the biggest stars have taken back seats to the framing and visual presentation of his pictures. And this one is mind-blowing, shot by Yeoman with a bright, oversaturated artificiality that recalls 50's Westerns like Bad Day at Black Rock. 

As usual with Anderson, the actors dryly deliver their lines with a kind of detached bemusement that almost implies they're playing imitations or mockeries of themselves. Only the real kicker this time is that they actually are. The "play within a play" conceit allow the actors to carry aspects of their performer's uncertainty toward the material into the actual roles, adding an important contextual layer. This works especially well with Schwartzman and Johansson, who delicately depict Augie and Midge's ambivalence toward each another, dancing around their feelings before eventually connecting on a deeper level. Schwartzman's nuanced turn has you wondering why he isn't cast more often as a lead while Johansson perfectly captures this moody, morose Hollywood starlet with an edge. 

Once the UFO event unfolds with the appearance of a wacky looking alien, the script's characters really start to wrestle with various forms of loneliness and uncertainty. And like many Anderson films, it celebrates the quirky outsider, as the Junior Stargazers are far more tuned in and observant than any of their parents, scientists and especially government officials. Those Moonrise Kingdom vibes are definitely present in Woodrow and Dinah's relationship, while the film still manages to incorporate an endless parade of well known faces without it coming across as a stunt.

Hanks, Hawke and Swinton make the most impact with what they're handed and even the smaller parts occupied by Hope Davis, Liev Schreiber and Willem Dafoe humorously fill out the corners of this bizarre world. If there's a true highlight, it's Margot Robbie's sensational single scene opposite Schwartzman, which ties the movie's metaverse in knots to gain invaluably greater insight into Augie and the actor who plays him. Most assumed Hanks' cranky part was originally intended for Bill Murray, but the latter was actually cast as Steve Carell's motel manager before having to pull out. Regardless, Hanks puts his own spin on Stanley and Carell's tiny role would likely be a waste of Murray anyway. 

From the moment an entertainingly deadpan Cranston appears on screen channeling Rod Serling in a Playhouse 90-style special, it's apparent we're in for a rarer breed of nostalgic escape than Anderson usually delivers. A single viewing of Asteroid City won't determine its ranking in his filmography or win over doubters, but much of what the trailer hinted at pans out with Anderson flair, again making it difficult to separate the filmmaker from his creation. But like these characters, we'll just have to accept that understanding everything isn't the goal, or really even necessary at all.

The Grand Budapest Hotel

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Ralph Fiennes, Tony Revolori, Adrien Brody, Willem Dafoe, Jeff Goldblum, Saoirse Ronan, Edward Norton, F. Murray Abraham, Mathieu Amalric, Jude Law, Harvey Keitel, Bill Murray, Léa Seydoux, Jason Schwartzman, Tilda Swinton, Tom Wilkinson, Owen Wilson, Bob Balaban
Running Time: 99 min.
Rating: R

★★★ (out of ★★★★)
  
One thing Wes Anderson's never been accused of is his films having an overabundance of plot and action. Even his best work is thought of as primarily aesthetic achievements, his stories serving merely as backdrops for highly stylized costume and production design and visual flourishes. In some ways, the highest grossing and most favorably reviewed film of his career, The Grand Budapest Hotel, doesn't represent a deviation from that classic Anderson template. And yet it also somehow does. This is the closest he's come to directing a screwball action comedy and it contains more story and characters than most would know what to do with. For the first hour I thought I was watching a masterpiece, but by the second he kind of lost me, before recovering and delivering something that's still special. There's a nostalgiac sadness hiding under the humor  that stays with you, as the many colorful characters populating the hotel mourn an era that's rapidly slipping away, or in the case of some, slipped away a while ago. But at the same time, the whole thing still manages to be a lot of fun.

Featuring a story within a story within a story, the film opens in the present day with a teenage girl reading the memoir of an unnamed "Author" (Tom Wilkinson), who narrates the book from his office in 1985, recalling his stay at Europe's Grand Budapest Hotel in 1968. It was then, with the hotel clearly in decline, that the young Author (played by Jude Law) encountered its elderly, reclusive owner, Zero Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham). Over dinner, he tells him the incredible story of how he took ownership of the hotel. We flash back to 1932 when young Zero (Tony Revolori) worked as a lobby boy under the Grand Budapest's eccentric concierge, Gustave H. (Ralph Fiennes), running errands and tending to the guests.

It's when one of Gustave's many older, wealthy mistresses, Madame D (Tilda Swinton) dies under strange circumstances and she leaves him a valuable painting, he finds himself at the center of a murder investigation and the target of her son Dmitri's (Adrien Brody) hired assassin, J.G. Jopling (Willem Dafoe). With the help of Zero and hotel baker Agatha (Saorise Ronan), he must evade capture and clear his name, even as war breaks out in their Republic of Zubrowka, signaling a cultural shift that will heavily impact all their futures.

I want to live in this hotel. That was my first thought upon seeing the majestic structure, which is rendered not by some fake looking CGI in wide, exterior shots but an actual handmade miniature model. Remember those? But it's what happens inside that ends being more impressive, with some jawdropping production design that makes you anxious to discover what secret or character is hiding behind every corridor, room and crevice of the building. The atmosphere may draw you in, but it's the story that keeps you there, as there's this pervading sense of melancholy that distinguishes it from Anderson's other work, despite still being very recognizable as such. The story's not only bigger than usual for him, but broader in scope and crossing over multiple timelines.

While Anderson's a filmmaker almost compulsively obsessed with the past, he's at least now found the ideal outlet by creating a story where all his characters are equally obsessed. Nearly every recognizable name in this fully stacked cast is given at least a moment or two to shine, but the the movie really hangs its hat on the friendship that develops between Ralph Fiennes' witty, somewhat delusional Gustave and his impressionable young lobby boy, Zero, played by newcomer Revolori. Not necessarily known for his comedic skills, Fiennes gives what may be his most memorable performance since his very different one in Schindler's List, while Revolori makes the perfect straight man to his zaniness. Of the rest, Goldblum and Ronan each make valuable contributions, while Jude Law and F. Murray Abraham breath real life and history into roles that could have come off as expository or mere bookenders. The rest of the cast have what amount to cameos, checking the usual boxes of Anderson's favorite actors. If pressed, the section during which Gustave and Zero find themselves on the run from authorities is the weakest, before the story regains its footing in the last third.        

This is actually one of Anderson's messier films, but that's of little consequence considering how ambitious the undertaking is and the ease by which it would rank amongst his most visually daring. He really swung for the fences this time and there's explanation as to why it all works other than the fact that he's become a brand unto himself, with no other filmmaker viewing the world quite like he does. As usual, his whimsical style perfectly suits oddball material, but it isn't calling as much attention to itself as it is reflecting the story's darker themes. And this is all about telling stories, to the point you could easily categorize it as a great epic novel put to film, right down to the impeccably realized hotel of the film's title, which seems as much alive (or in some cases as dead) as those inhabiting it. The more you start considering how much he accomplished here, the larger it looms.

Moonrise Kingdom

Director: Wes Anderson
Starring: Jared Gilman, Kara Hayward, Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Frances McDormand, Tilda Swinton, Harvey Keitel
Running Time: 94 min.
Rating:  PG-13

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

The word "genius" probably gets thrown around a little too much, but after viewing Moonrise Kingdom, it's even clearer Wes Anderson just might be one of the few filmmakers working today who's rightfully earned the tag. How else can you explain the world he creates in this? Literally a world all its own. And you know you're watching one of his movies before the credits even start to roll. From the costume and set design to the film stock, to the title font to the dialogue and even the actors chosen to deliver it, there's definitely nothing else out there that resembles a Wes Anderson movie. This effort stands as the biggest example of that yet, and also maybe his most personal. Of course, some will still call this "pretentious" "twee" or "hipsterish" but they weren't the audience for this anyway, and would still have trouble denying it's the work of a seriously talented artist. No one else can do exactly what he does and any perceived problems with the the film only exist because his idiosyncratic sensibilities can be so off-putting that it's sometimes hard to find an entry point. But once you find it and surrender to the eccentricity there's no turning back. The movie's set in the 1960's but looks and feels how an imaginary memory wishes the 60's looked and felt like, with a visual aesthetic and production design that's unforgettable, making it seem as if it could be made and released successfully during that era. And try remembering the last picture starring two children that was squarely aimed at adults. I'm still not sure if it's completely perfect, but its messiness and craziness is part of what make it so endearing, and a real keeper likely to continue reaping rewards on repeated viewings.

It's 1965 and 12-year-old Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman) is spending the summer as a khaki scout at Camp Ivanhoe on the small New England island of New Penzance. Suzy Bishop (Kara Hayward) lives on the "Summer's End" portion of this island with her eccentric attorney parents Walt (Bill Murray) and Laura (Frances McDormand) and her younger brothers. But Sam and Suzy's paths crossed a year earlier when, in one of the films best scenes, they meet during a church production of Noye's Fludde, becoming pen pals and vowing to run away together the following year. After making good on their promise, Scout Master Ward (Edward Norton) is horrified to wake up and discover, in a clever touch, an escape hole cut in the side of Sam's tent. Enlisting the help of the island's dour police Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis), the Scout troop and Suzy's parents, a search is underway for the two young refugees who have set up camp in a secluded area on the beach, complete with Suzy's record player and books. With a violent hurricane approaching, their prepubescent romance blooms and they even make plans to marry, but the search team is closing in, as is a "Social Services" representative (Tilda Swinton) who plans to stick Sam in juvenile detention because his foster parents no longer want him. Now the troubled Sam and Suzy, experiencing the only true friendship each has known, are at risk of being torn apart by comically clueless adults who could probably learn more than a few things about life from them.        

The movie makes no qualms about the fact that Sam and Suzy two kind of messed up kids with dysfunctional upbringings and exhibit anti-social behavior that makes it difficult for either to make friends. Sam's entire Scout troop detests him while Suzy is shown in flashbacks fighting at school and discovering a book her parents bought on how to deal with a "troubled" child. In actuality, they're just super smart, sensitive kids who seem to have been done a disservice by the adult authority figures in their lives who are epitomized by, though not limited to, Suzy's endearingly wacko parents expertly played by Murray and McDormand. What's so special about the story is the juxtaposition between the excitement and happiness felt by these tweens experiencing their first blush of puppy love and these depressed, cynical adults have even less direction in their lives and prove to be comically incompetent when it comes to any kind of decision making. It's no wonder Tilda Swinton's "social services" (yes, the character's actual name) gets involved, yet we root against her anyway knowing it's Sam she wants to punish. This conflict between these clever kids and the dumb adults is where must of the script's intelligent humor comes from, and it's a subtle, sophisticated type that slides under the radar at times and demands the viewers' full attention.

In their big screen debuts, child actors Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward simply become Sam and Suzy. There's no other way to put it, as neither exhibit signs they're ever "acting" like precocious kids. Both are brilliantly understated, with Hayward making Suzy the more worldly of the two as Gilman perfects the outsider geek. The adult cast is the best rounded up in some time, with Bruce Willis playing a melancholy type of part we're not often used to seeing him in. It's easy to forget just how great a dramatic actor he can be when pushed by the right director, and he's definitely pushed by Anderson here, giving a really quiet performance that's just filled with depth and complexity. It's a comedy and this shouldn't work, yet Captain Sharp's sadness and the bond he forms with Sam is somehow one of the most touching aspects of the picture. His scenes with the him are gold, with Willis subtly suggesting there's perhaps a whole other movie that could have been made exploring how his character got to the point where he is. Similarly, Edward Norton Scout Master Ward as a kindly leader who not only feels responsible for Sam's disappearance and dreads the prospect of facing the stern Commander Pierce (Harvey Keitel), but wants to use this an instructional lesson for the kids. It's the best role Norton's had in ages and he's strangely perfect for it. Jason Schwartzman memorably cameos has a character named Cousin Ben, a relative of one of the scouts who volunteers to perform an unusual ceremony. And it wouldn't be a Wes Anderson movie without a narrator (Bob Balaban), who takes us on what could kind of be considered a tour of all the various locations on the fictitious island.      

The experience of watching this does in a way mirror the experience of watching Rushmore, The Life Aquatic, The Royal Tenenbaums, but times ten. It's a movie very much in love with its own characters, it's imagined setting and the time period and wants the viewer to be to. It's something you either respond to it or you don't and how you feel about Anderson's unique style will completely determine it. It's not his absolute best, but it seems like his most mature, merging style with substance in a seamlessly to tell his story. Creating a world from scratch isn't easy and in many ways Anderson could be considered the J.D. Salinger of modern movies, his efforts always featuring complex, novelistic characters seen through the warm glow of nostalgia. At only just over 90 minutes, we get more than we could have possibly asked for and there were even points where I simply didn't want it to end. But even as comical as Moonrise Kingdom is, it's underlying themes suggest almost an unbearably sad, bittersweet coming-of-age story. Sam and Suzy will grow up, probably never see each other again and possibly mature into the misguided adults who were searching for them. The film's biggest feat is somehow making that potential outcome seem weirdly satisfying.