Wes Anderson returns with The Phoenician Scheme, another meticulously arranged, pastel-coloured tale from one of the world’s most precisely eccentric filmmakers.

It’s a film that ticks every Anderson box: an ensemble cast of familiar faces, symmetrical shots so clean they could be museum exhibits, and a tone both dry and amusing. It’s as mannered and madcap as you’d expect — populated by deadpan eccentrics and framed like a living storybook — but what gives it weight is a surprisingly sincere thread about a father trying, in his own bizarre way, to connect with the daughter he barely knows.

Benicio Del Toro leads the cast with one of his most enjoyable performances in recent memory. As Zsa-Zsa Korda, an unscrupulous tycoon with a flair for manipulation and a mounting pile of moral debts, Del Toro fully leans into the Anderson rhythm while still managing to thread real vulnerability into the role. He’s droll and theatrical, sure, but there’s also a worn-down humanity here — especially in the way he approaches his estranged daughter Liesl, played with poise by Mia Threapleton.

The film weaves in plenty of thematic elements Anderson has explored before: class divides, corporate absurdity, the failings of bureaucracy, and the delusions of the elite. These ideas feel consistent with his broader body of work — but in this case, they don’t always gel well with the plot’s more fragmented, globe-hopping structure. The satire, while relevant, doesn’t always land, and the world-building sometimes muddies rather than deepens the emotional stakes.

It’s in the quieter beats between Zsa-Zsa and Liesl where the film really finds its pulse. Their relationship, strained but tinged with longing, brings a touch of grounded emotion to the whirlwind of absurdity. There’s a particularly lovely rhythm to their scenes — his overreaching charm meeting her hesitant scepticism — that slowly shifts into something warmer, never saccharine but undeniably sincere.

Michael Cera, as the awkward Norwegian secretary Bjorn, delivers some of the film’s biggest laughs, his oddball energy blending perfectly with Anderson’s stylised world. The rest of the cast — Scarlett Johansson, Tom Hanks, Bryan Cranston, and others — drift in and out, offering brief, amusing turns that feel more decorative than essential. But hey, having a line-up like this is a flex.

The Phoenician Scheme may not break new ground for Anderson, but it delivers enough of what he does best to satisfy. It’s often amusing and visually striking — though also a bit scattered. You’re sometimes more caught up in how things are happening than in what’s actually happening. A sharper focus on the central relationship might’ve brought greater emotional payoff — though in the world of Anderson, that kind of imbalance may very well be the point. For longtime fans, it’s still a comfortably familiar ride.