As someone attuned to the distinct styles of auteur filmmakers, I came to Wes Anderson’s latest offering The Phoenician Scheme intrigued, feeling a mix of distance and familiarity.
My appreciation for other auteur directors like Stanley Kubrick, Spike Lee and Alfred Hitchcock may have sometimes inadvertently pushed Anderson’s work to the periphery of my viewing habits, but The Phoenician Scheme (his 13th directorial film) provides an opportunity to reassess that omission.
The cinematic trademarks were all there: deadpan performances, meticulous symmetry, whip-pan camera work (when the camera whips round so fast, everything blurs), ice-cream colour palettes and trains, frequently present in some form throughout Anderson’s filmography.
