[Film Review] The Phoenician Scheme

The masterful Wes Anderson is back with his 12th(!) film, and this time around he’s devised The Phoenician Scheme, an industrialist-themed yarn that blitzes with style and rattles with hilarity. Here, we bear witness to an artist working at the height of their craft. It’s truly splendid cinema.  

Set in the 50s, the story zooms in on Zsa-Zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro), a slippery tycoon with a controversial aura. He’s had multiple brushes with death (and the law), we get the impression that he’s probably screwed over a lot of people, and there might even be an assassin or five out for his head. He’s also got 10 kids. After seeing visions of his judgment day, he decides to anoint his only daughter (a nun played by Mia Threapleton - Kate Winslet’s daughter, for those keeping score of talented nepos) as the sole heir to his estate—but on a trial basis. Anderson deploys his signature boxy aesthetic to literal levels, as the tightly organized plot unfolds through a series of shoeboxes that contain Korda’s enterprise plans…er…schemes would be more accurate.

What ensues is a comedic caper of suspicious events and idiosyncratic characters. This thing is hysterical. It’s delightfully absurd and absurdly delightful. The clever script is packed with dialogue that is as droll as it is sophisticated, and there are plenty of sight gags stuffed in—my favorite being a high-stakes game of basketball where Benicio del Toro and Riz Ahmed square off against a duo of cantankerous investors played by Tom Hanks and Brian Cranston. The scene stresses the wise notion that you should always be prepared—because you just never know when a game of basketball might break out. Benicio del Toro gives a stellar central performance, and his comic timing and overall delivery are excellent. A patented who’s who cast comprises the eccentric ensemble of supporting characters: Michael Cera (shockingly, his first role in a Wes Anderson film), Scarlett Johansson, Jeffrey Wright, Willem Dafoe, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Richard Ayoade, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Bill Murray, to name a few.

As expected, Wes Anderson’s defining traits as a filmmaker are on full display here. The visuals are painterly, picturesque, and cinematic all at once. Every frame is exquisitely staged, and every scene is a hoot and a half. There’s a significant emphasis on architecture and interior design, and if you pay close attention to the depth and dimension of each setting, the details are astonishing—right down to the texture and color palettes. It’s as if a lot of the shots were ripped from an issue of Architectural Digest that Wes Anderson curated in his imagination. I also must mention the truly superb opening credits scene, which boasts a striking overhead shot that sets the tone for the film while also leaving a lasting impression. Wes Anderson has perfected the craft of introductory sequences, which often feels like a lost art these days. Even the closing credits have personality. From beginning to end, this is a film film. 

With a title like The Phoenician Scheme, it’s only fitting that the intricate narrative stacks on the twists, turns, and reveals. But what’s most surprising are the sneakily tender moments, along with the themes of fate, faith, and family. With this film, Wes Anderson proves that he’s one of the greatest auteurs in contemporary cinema. All elements considered, it feels like he’s just as much of an engineer as he is a filmmaker at this point. When Korda utters the line, “Don’t buy great art, buy masterpieces,” it feels like a challenge. Get your basketball gear on.

* 10/10 *

[Film Review] A Complete Unknown

Were you there when Bob Dylan went electric?

Director James Mangold pulls back the curtain and brings the riveting story to the screen with A Complete Unknown. Based on the book Dylan Goes Electric! by Elijah Wald, this film is a fascinating portrayal of Minnesota's own legend Bob Dylan, and it's also a tuneful ode to the power of instruments, songwriting, inspiration, and free will.

Oscar nominee Timothée Chalamet plays Dylan, and he's got the look. It's 1961, and Dylan has made his way from Minneapolis to New York City to visit his idol Woody Guthrie (Scoot McNairy) and friend Pete Seeger (Edward Norton). The film details Dylan's meteoric rise in the folk scene, his relationship with Sylvie Russo (based on Dylan's real-life love Suze Rotolo), his collaboration with Joan Baez (both musically and personally), and it all leads up to that infamous night when Dylan went electric, much to the dismay of his fans and his music label.

A Complete Unknown moves at a nice pace that is not too rushed, nor too bogged down, and it utilizes Dylan's seminal musical catalog to mark key turning points in his career, from his foray into political and socially-conscious lyrics to his rocky romantic relationships. Chalamet gives a truly impressive, dedicated, and detail-oriented performance here. It's no small task to step into the shoes of such an icon, but he does it with immense skill. You can tell that he closely studied Dylan's mannerisms, inflections, and yes -- that unmistakable singing voice. Thankfully, he refrains from over-acting and instead focuses on subtleties, which elevates the performance way above a basic impression. Edward Norton, Elle Fanning, and Monica Barbaro are also great in their supporting roles.

Even if you're not super familiar with Bob Dylan's story or are not even a fan of his music, there is a lot to enjoy in this film. And for us Minnesotans, I know we all get a little giddy inside when we hear our state getting mentioned multiple times on the screen. Ultimately, A Complete Unknown is a tale about the art of taking risks. What happens when you go against the grain? What happens when you follow your heart? Given that Dylan has gone on to become one of the highest-selling and most critically acclaimed artists of all time, it's worked out pretty well for him.

This review originally appeared in St. Paul's Community Reporter.

[Film Review] The Wild Robot

Robot companions have long played a significant role in the universe of animated films, from The Iron Giant, to Wall-E, to Big Hero 6. Blasting onto the scene most recently is DreamWorks’ Oscar-nominated The Wild Robot. So, how does it stack up to its predecessors? Despite some familiar story beats, it’s a dazzling, fun, endearing, and heartfelt adventure that manages to wholly earn its place as a noble newcomer in the genre.

The film boots up amid the aftermath of a storm, where a container of robots has washed up on a remote island bursting with wildlife. Here we meet Roz, a humanoid robot (wonderfully voiced by Lupita Nyong’o) who possesses one primary function: To carry out tasks until they’re officially complete. So when she comes in contact with a freshly hatched gosling who thinks she’s its mother, things get quite complicated, even for Roz’s sophisticated software. Roz is tasked with preparing the gosling for its first migration, all while trying to gain trust from a diverse community of woodland creatures.

The impressively immersive animation extends a branch and invites us into a world full of vibrant colors, vivid textures, and exquisite natural settings. Much like Roz’s programming, the animation technology used is state-of-the-art stuff, and yet, a remarkable emphasis is placed on style and personality, making the visuals feel more artful and meticulously crafted as opposed to run-of-the-mill, generic graphics without a soul. About midway through, there’s a great sequence that takes on a painterly quality, and it’s awesome to look at—to the point where you wouldn’t mind seeing a version of the film with this aesthetic for the entire duration.  

The script’s sense of humor often draws jokes from the animals’ instincts and unique characteristics. There’s a cunning fox who just wants a friend, a hard-working beaver whose work is never quite appreciated, and a chuckle-worthy recurring bit about a family of fatalistic opossums. The film also recognizes the age of AI we’re living in, and presents the ethical side. When used responsibly, living things can benefit from technology, and technology can benefit from living things. And if you look closely, the film subtly weaves in a few moments that stress the importance of taking care of our dear planet. 

What makes The Wild Robot so worthwhile is its big, glowing heart. The relationship between Roz and the gosling is genuinely touching and meaningful. It’s built with themes about the depths of love, finding your purpose (whether it’s conventional or unconventional), and what it means to truly belong. Combine all that with the majestic musical score and it’s sure to stir up major emotions. In the end, it’s all rooted in kindness. That’s something that’s always welcome.

This review originally appeared in St. Paul's Community Reporter.

My Top 10 Films of 2024

Yes, Fade to Zach is back! And what better way to return than revealing my Top 10 Films of 2024!

Let’s get right to it…

10. Love Lies Bleeding (dir. Rose Glass) 

Shootouts. Steroids. Bodies. Hallucinations. Flames. The 80s. Ed Harris balding in the front with long, stringy hair in the back. What more do you need?

9. Trap (dir. M. Night Shyamalan) 

Logic and believability be damned. This is some of the most fun I’ve had watching a movie all year. Let Trap grab ahold of you. Let Trap into your soul.

8. Evil Does Not Exist (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi) 

A poetic meditation on the intersection of humanity, modern civilization, and the natural world, and what can happen when the balance is shattered. There are certain shots from this film that still linger in my mind, and I’m not just talking about the superb cinematography. 

7. Juror #2 (dir. Clint Eastwood)

It’s just great to see a moral conundrum of a premise explored with such skill and contemplation. Eastwood's penchant for symbolic storytelling is on full display here.

6. Longlegs (dir. Osgood Perkins)

Dank, dour, dingy, and dreadful in the best way. Perkins summons an uneasy atmosphere and escalates the procedural with some exquisitely framed imagery that screams artfully creepy. Nic Cage comes through with a reliably batshit turn as the story’s unhinged, washed-out, satan-worshipping antagonist.

5. A Real Pain (dir. Jesse Eisenberg) 

What begins as an awkward tourist comedy unfolds with an itinerary of familial tensions and deep-rooted trauma. Kieran Culkin’s performance is first-class in the art of not being okay. 

4. Challengers (dir. Luca Guadagnino)

A kinetic love triangle that volleys back and forth with a messy and sweaty intensity, surveying all angles while cracking and snapping like a broken racket.

3. The Substance (dir. Coralie Fargeat)

A film that mashes Hollywood’s fear of aging and irrelevance with toxic societal pressures and injects the dark fairytale with a caustic concoction of striking visual metaphors, grotesque body horror, and demented desperation. It’s truly a gonzo experience. 

2. I Saw the TV Glow (dir. Jane Schoenbrun)

I was sucked into this one from the opening image, and it wasn’t long before I said “I love this.” Such a luminous vision that oozes with creativity and buzzes with originality. Is it surreal or is it all-too-real? 

1. The Brutalist (dir. Brady Corbet)

Imposing, ambitious, and powerful. This one floored me. Corbet meticulously crafts a sprawling immigrant tale that thrusts us into the dark side of the American Dream. Between the stirring score, the top-tier performances, and the highly resonant themes, The Brutalist stands tall as a cinematic marvel that is built to stand the rest of time. What a film!

[Review] 1917

War is an unforgiving hellscape of horrors and tragedy, and Sam Mendes’ tumultuous and riveting 1917 brings us directly into the fiery muck. 

The plot focuses in on a pair of British soldiers (played by George MacKay and Dean-Charles Chapman) as they’re ordered to deliver an important message to another battalion while finding one of their brothers — all before the morning dawns. 

Commendably, the film develops in real time and sustains the appearance of one continuous, unbroken shot (like 2014’s Birdman, but with much more death). Not only is this an impressive feat, but it also adds a major sense of urgency to the events. It’s intense and immersive. Gritty and uncompromising. There are treks through sprawling trenches of mud and despair, risky journeys across fields of dead bodies and landmines, and harrowing fights for survival amidst perilous shootouts and explosive battles.

The cinematography is stunning and it’s bombarded with potent scene after potent scene. There’s a particularly haunting nighttime sequence where the main character frantically runs for his life under dilapidated structures, and the only light to guide him is the flares of bombs. The battlefields look like a “Walking Dead”-esque dystopia, with bleak grey skies and rough terrains of dour browns—as if the soldiers are trudging through the shit on multiple levels. 

George MacKay gives a great performance at the center of it all. This is as much a strenuous hero’s journey as it is horror film set on the frontlines of war. But for all the chaos that comes with the territory, the majority of 1917 thrives on quietly devastating  moments and emotional turmoil that’s as heavy as the gear the these soldiers carry on their backs.

Throughout the film, there are symbolic images of beautiful white Cherry Blossoms blooming in the fields, and all you can do is hope that they don’t end up covered in blood. 

* 9/10 *