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From the curtain closing on the “Rushmore” cast dancing in a high school gym to Gwyneth Paltrow coming off the bus in “The Royal Tenenbaums,” Wes Anderson’s filmography is loaded with memorable slow-motion shots. The title sequence of “The Phoenician Scheme,” though, is arguably the most visually exacting and narratively layered in his filmography.
After initially being declared dead, Zsa-zsa Korda (Benicio Del Toro) somehow survived his plane crashing in the film’s opening scene, and in the title sequence that follows, we see him back home in his bathtub. In a wide, high-angle shot, the camera pointed straight down, we watch in slow motion as a team of servants move in and out of frame, tending to the bandaged tycoon’s every need as he reads his book, smokes his cigar, drinks his wine, and listens to a record of composer Igor Stravinsky’s “Apollo” on turntable behind him.
On a recent episode of the Filmmaker Toolkit podcast, Anderson walked IndieWire through this title sequence and how it sets the table for the rest of the film.
“This is a character who is unkillable, as far as we can tell, and he doesn’t get very scared. He’s extremely resilient, and he’s used to having a lot of support,” said Anderson of what the audience initially takes from this meticulously choreographed scene.
With the camera mounted to the ceiling and filming at a very high frame rate, the actors below had to perform their actions at a significantly faster pace than would look normal if the scene were filmed at 24 frames per second, while simultaneously needing to appear orderly and calm — Korda’s demeanor is stoic, his domestic staff well-trained professionals.
“The music in this sequence is a dance. It’s a ballet by Stravinsky, so the scene is [in a way] choreographed,” said Anderson of his precise blocking of the action.
The music is also reflective of Korda. The track, selected by Anderson and his longtime music supervisor Randall Poster at the script phase, is the final movement (“Apotheosis”) of Stravinsky’s ballet about the Greek god Apollo. Anderson said in the film’s press notes, “Our film is about a man who is like a mountain. He is himself of epic scale, his life is on an epic scale.”
On the podcast, Anderson elaborated further on the music’s connection to Del Toro’s character. “Somehow, this piece to me had something sad and stately — some wounded, hopeful, something-or-another that seemed defiant, that seemed to connect to this character, and it was always a part of our story.”
That the music both reinforces the sense of Korda as an unstoppable force, but also hints at something sad and wounded underneath, speaks to the mastery of the Poster-Anderson collaboration. Anderson revealed on the podcast that his 30-year friendship with Poster, centered around their shared love of music, has led to them licensing songs years before the writer/director has even conjured up a story to use them in: “We’ve paid a fee to keep some music set aside that we know eventually we’re going to have a place for, and so no one else can use it.” That ability for the music to speak to what’s on the surface — and the yet-to-be-recognized emotions below — sets up Korda’s unexpected arc.
“Another thing we had in mind with this character is that, in spite of the fact he’s constantly educating himself further — he’s reading, he’s listening to music, he’s traveling the world, he’s gathering information and enhancing himself in some way — he doesn’t change because of these things. He’s somebody who it’s all ammunition to him,” said Anderson. “This guy, who is not changed by what he learns, is changed by the experience of death. And his perspective finally does begin to alter because of what keeps happening to him: People are trying to kill him, and he’s actually going through something very intense, and it begins to revise his priorities.”
In the scene that follows, Korda will take his first step to make his estranged daughter Liesl (Mia Threapleton) his successor. The unorthodox choice of his 20-year-old daughter, a nun-in-training who believes her father’s work is immoral, is part of Korda’s elaborate business plan. But as his seemingly unstoppable drive to complete the Korda Land and Sea Phoenician Infrastructure Scheme leads to more near-death experiences, his ambitions shift to wanting to become a father.
The specificity of the camera positioning and slow-motion orchestration in the title sequence is stylistically reminiscent of director Brian De Palma. Anderson said he wasn’t consciously thinking of De Palma when designing the title sequence, but he doesn’t deny the influence or direct connection.
“I think when you’re making something, you’re thinking of the things even that you’re not thinking of [them]. It’s in there,” said Anderson of De Palma’s influence on the scene. “You’re using all the paint on the palette, so for me it’s a natural thing. I’ve seen all [De Palma’s] movies, and I’ve seen them again and again, so I think it’s a part of my — it’s gone into my DNA.”
To hear Wes Anderson’s full interview, subscribe to the Filmmaker Toolkit podcast on Apple, Spotify, or your favorite podcast platform.
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