Wes Anderson fails because of his originality

Wes Anderson tells a story that sounds eccentric even by his standards. Arms dealer Anatole Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio del Toro), constantly threatened by assassination attempts, classified as an enemy by the US, and hunted by terrorists, has made his daughter Lies (Mia Threapleton) his sole heir. Her nine brothers are not supposed to inherit anything. The father has his reasons, but doesn't reveal them.

One problem is that the daughter isn't interested in the inheritance because she wants to become a nun. The second problem is the father himself: his fortune is at risk of being lost. Only if the billionaire manages to finance a complicated project can he avoid bankruptcy. The daughter is looking for God, the father needs money.

The third problem isn't shared by father or daughter, but by the director: Wes Anderson has become a victim of his own originality. He aims for too much and achieves too little. Yet his twelfth film, not counting the four short films, has a lot to offer. "The Phoenician Scheme" once again boasts an excellent cast and a superb film adaptation.

The fact that we owe so many idiosyncratic characters to this director is due in part to the quality of the actors and actresses he can apparently mobilize at will. His new film stars Tom Hanks and Bryan Cranston, Benedict Cumberbatch and Bill Murray, Willem Dafoe and Michael Cera. Anderson can even afford to cast Scarlett Johansson in a minor role.

And, of course, the director has staged his new film with the visual brilliance we've come to expect from him. This time, he enlisted the help of French cinematographer Bruno Delbonnel, who became world-famous for his work on Jean-Pierre Jeunet's "The Fabulous Destiny of Amélie Poulain." Wes Anderson, who loves symmetry, right angles, and clear contours, is a master of visualization. Every house, every room, every door, every suit, every hairstyle fits with everything else shown in the respective scene.

The American, who lives in Paris, has perfected his fairytale-like, nostalgic aesthetic with its coordinated pastel tones over the course of his career to such an extent that his style is instantly recognizable, even in his commercial for the fashion brand H&M. One could most easily describe Wes Anderson as the Edward Hopper of film. The same melancholy and lostness of his characters, the same mastery of framing and color.

As an eight-year-old boy, the director suffered his father's separation from the family; the divorce traumatized him. Perhaps that's why families play such a significant role in his work, and perhaps why he pays such close attention to visual harmony. There's so much beauty and sadness in his work, he was once asked in conversation whether one doesn't alleviate the other. "I'd almost like to say that sometimes beauty lies in sadness," he replied. "The two blend together. Often the most beautiful thing is the saddest."

This is precisely the problem with his new film: It doesn't evoke any emotion upon viewing. "The Phoenician Scheme" shares this flaw with Anderson's last two feature films, "Asteroid City" and "The French Dispatch." All three shine with the flawless direction; one enjoys the talent of the actors, the ironic dialogue, the witty visuals, the sets. Yet the impression is ultimately one of cold mannerism.

This becomes clear when you compare these films with Anderson's best, such as "Moonrise Kingdom" or "The Royal Tenenbaums." Both are about families under threat. In "Moonrise Kingdom," two children escape from an island and fall in love. The girl suffers because of her parents and classmates, while the boy is an orphan. In "The Royal Tenenbaums," the family members suffer the separation of their parents; the father has abandoned his wife and children. In these films, too, every image is perfect, and they too benefit from an outstanding ensemble. But Anderson stages the tragedies in such a way that you empathize with the characters. You feel their joy and their pain.

Empathy is felt even in his two animated animal films, "Fantastic Mr. Fox" and "Isle of Dogs." Anderson and his team shot the films using stop-motion, meaning the characters were moved by hand rather than drawn or computer-generated. The process requires immense effort, but conveys a sense of closeness and warmth. Neither of these is likely to be felt when watching "The Phoenician Scheme." You can admire the virtuosity of the director and his ensemble. You can't love them.

Wes Anderson: "The Phoenician Scheme" (101 minutes). Now in theaters.