The Pay Day, with Simon Callow

The best caper-heist movies are meticulously detailed. It’s that little stuff, like the umbrella catching the debris in Rififi that makes them fun. This film isn’t like that at all. In large measure, both the cast and characters seem to be making it up as they go along. However, if you adjust your expectations and settle in for some double- and triple-crossing trickery, there might be something to Sam Bradford’s The Pay Day, which releases today in theaters and on VOD.

Jennifer just got sacked from her London IT job, because her [former] boss is an exploitative shark. She already has an offer of sorts, but it is somewhat non-traditional. The mysterious mastermind calling himself Gates wants her to sneak into a big “City” bank’s corporate office to steal a list of dodgy accounts and their passwords. The source of the dirty funds is a bit vague and it seems to keep shifting from conversation to conversation, but she could certainly use her multi-million-Pound cut.

However, Jennifer has a harder time infiltrating the building than anticipated because of Gates’ junky intel. She also has to con her way around George, whom she assumes is an investment banker, but viewers can tell from his entrance, he is actually another thief trying to make the same big score. Yet, despite the circumstances, they have a weird flirty thing going on, even after she accidently shoots him.

As co-screenwriters, Kyla Frye and Sam Benjamin are more successful fooling the lead characters they play than the audience watching it pan out. However, it is rather lively. They made three previous short films together, so there is at least a pre-existing professional relationship there. Regardless, their chemistry in Pay Day works surprisingly well.

Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge

The opening quotation is fake, but the soundtrack is totally legit. You might have thought the late 1950s and the early 1960s were the peak of swinging crime jazz and it probably was in Hollywood, but Eric Demarsan really uncorked a classic for Jean-Pierre Melville’s 1970 penultimate film. Georges Arvanitas on piano, Guy Pedersen on bass, Daniel Humair on drums, and the groovy vibes of Bernard Lubat set the noir mood and sound terrific together. Oh, and the film is really good too. Uncut (as it always should have been) and freshly restored in pristine 4K, Melville’s Le Cercle Rouge opens tomorrow at Film Forum, exclusively brick-and-mortar-style.

We know Corey is hardboiled, because he is played by Alain Delon. Ironically, he is about to be paroled early for good behavior. However, one of the crooked prison guards tries to recruit him for jewel heist up in Paris. So much for rehabilitation. Meanwhile, Vogel escapes from the straight-arrow Inspector Mattei, who was extraditing him from Marseilles to Paris. When the two crooks cross paths, Corey helps Vogel elude the dragnet and recruits him for his big heist caper.

They will need another accomplice with sharpshooting skills. Vogel knows just the man: Jansen, a severely alcoholic ex-cop. Of course, Mattei is still on their trail and feeling the heat from the cynical chief of police. There is also the business of finding a fence who can handle that kind of heat.

Cercle Rouge is classic Melville, starting with the unmistakable presence of Alain Delon (who became an international icon in Melville’s Le Samorai). It is slower, more deliberately paced, and longer (140 minutes) than typical caper movies, but Delon makes it work. Fortunately, we have the Demarsan soundtrack to have something to listen to when the cast quietly broods (which is often).

The Vault: Balaguero Goes from Horror to Capers

The Bank of Spain’s celebrated subterranean flooding vault has a reputation for impenetrability, but it has been breached twice by the Spanish entertainment industry. The first time came during the second season of Netflix’s Money Heist. This English-language co-production is the second. Shrewdly, the team of “salvagers” plans to use Spain’s 2010 World Cup run as a distraction (most Spaniards would gladly trade national treasure for a Cup), but surviving the flooding waters will still be quite a trick in Jaume Balaguero’s The Vault, which releases tomorrow in theaters and on-demand.

Walter Moreland went to great trouble and expense to “salvage” one of Sir Francis Drake old shipwrecks, but the Spanish authorities swoop in at the last minute to confiscate his booty. Drake plundered it from Spain and his ship sank in Spain’s waters, but the old scoundrel believes his sweat equity gives him a morally superior claim. The good news is they do not fully understand what they have yet. The bad news is the stashed it in the Bank of Spain’s underground vault.

For his crew, Moreland recruits his chameleon-like god-daughter, a former British special forces SCUBA daredevil, a local scrounger, and your all-purpose hacker, but he needs Thom Laybrick’s brain to solve his big technical problems, both the expected and the unforeseen. Fortunately, the genius university student needs a challenge to stave off boredom. He is also clearly interested in Lorraine, the master-of-disguise pickpocket.

Balaguero is best known for horror films like the [REC] franchise and Sleep Tight, so it maybe figures that Vault gets considerably darker than the typical caper movie. There comes a point when things look ultra-grim for salvage team, but that helps distinguish it from the pack. The heist itself is also pretty impressive and the bank’s vault and subbasements look unusually big and cinematic.

10 Minutes Gone: Bruce Willis & Michael Chiklis Go Head-to-Head

There is a lot of baldness in this caper, but maybe that makes sense. There will definitely be less chance of leaving behind follicle evidence that way. The job still goes down spectacularly badly, resulting in the death of Frank Sullivan’s brother. Bruce Willis and Michael Chiklis star in Brian A. Miller’s 10 Minutes Gone, which releases today on DVD.

Everything was going smooth as silk with the bank vault job Sullivan was hired to pull, until suddenly it wasn’t. The cops just showed up out of nowhere. However, it was probably one of Sullivan’s own guys who cold-cocked him and killed his brother. Rather curious to find out who it was, Sullivan stalks each one of them, so they can have words. Meanwhile, Rex, the contractor who hired the heist specialist wants to have his own words with Sullivan. His client paid to recover a package from the safety boxes. Sullivan and his brother briefly had it, but now it is presumably in the killer’s possession.

10 Minutes starts off pretty promising, but it turns out to be way too simplistic. Frankly, it is painfully obvious who the snake in the grass is, just because the cast of characters is so small. It is also hard to buy Chiklis in his action scenes, because he is such a big target and way too slow. On the other hand, it is amusing to watch Willis chew the scenery as the snarky big boss. He and Texas Battle are more interesting arguing with each other as contractor and client than Chiklis bickering with Meadow Williams playing his brother’s girlfriend, whom he has promised to keep safe.

Tazza: One Eyed Jack

Gamblers who rely on luck are just plain gamblers. Gamblers who employ “skill” consider themselves “swindlers.” Somewhere in between, you will find “Tazzas,” the legendary gamblers of Korea’s underworld. A poker-playing college student gets burned by a notorious Tazza, but a less frightening Tazza will recruit him for a potentially lucrative caper—and perhaps a chance for pay back in Kwon Oh-kwang’s Tazza: One Eyed Jack, which opens today in New York.

Do Il-chool is more comfortable at a card table reading people and calculating odds than taking notes in a lecture hall. Unfortunately, his luck runs out when he meets a femme fatale known as Madonna. It turns out she is the deceitful accomplice of the infamous Tazza known as “Demon,” or “Ma-gwi.” She throws Do so far off his game, he winds up deeply indebted to loan sharks.

Fortuitously, the Zen-like Tazza, “One Eyed Jack,” comes along at an opportune moment, to pay off his debts and enlist his services for a big-time swindle. The mark will be Mool Young-gam, an arrogant real estate mogul involved in some seriously shady dealings. Mool also can’t resist a not so friendly game of cards. Do and “Director Kwon” will worm their way into his confidence posing as his poker mercenaries, while Kkachi the swindler and Young-mi, the “actress,” will bait him masquerading as an obnoxious nouveau riche couple in the market for a weekend home, with One Eyed Jack pulling the strings behind the scenes.

Based on the third volume of the Tazza graphic novel series, One Eyed Jacks is considerably darker and more violent than the previous Tazza film, The Hidden Card. However, it is still fully stocked with twisty-turvy Runyonesque deceptions and betrayals. The con is most definitely on and on and on.

Park Jung-min is certainly adequate enough taking over for T.O.P. as the latest young new cardsharp in town. In fact, he is considerably steelier, which is a good thing. However, films like this never belong to the leading man. Instead, it is the colorful supporting casts that make or break them.

In this case, Ryoo Seung-bum radiates coolness and rock-solidly anchors the film as One Eyed Jack. Lim Ji-yeon and Lee Kwang-soo definitely lay it on pretty thickly, but they are still amusing as the bickering scammer tandem, Young-mi and Kkachi. Yoon Je-moon chews the scenery quite devilishly as Demon, but Woo Hyeon out-chews him as the slimy, rat-like Mool. However, Choi Yu-hwa is problematically passive and weirdly distant as Madonna. There is not much narrative connection to the previous Tazza films, but Joo Jin-mo technically returns in the tough luck prologue, briefly reprising the role of Jjakgwi.

Tazza: One Eyed runs well over two hours, but it never feels that long. Kwon keeps the fat out and maintain a high-octane speed. It is tougher than the previous film, but it is still fun. The tone is not unlike Rounders, but it deals out far more criminal-thriller business. Recommended for fans of gambling and caper movies, Tazza: One Eyed Jack opens today (9/20) in New York, at the AMC 34^th Street.

Lying and Stealing: Another Art History Major Gone Wrong

Parents do not let your children major in art history. If you believe what we see in movies, that degree only prepares students for one career: art thief. Of course, if they are successful, they will do quite nicely for themselves. Unfortunately, Ivan (the not-so-terrible) Warding is not in business for himself. He has been scoring hot objects d’art to pay off his late ne’er do well father’s gambling debts. However, he might be able to clear the books with two big scores, but he will need the help of a mystery woman to finish the job, because that is how capers work, especially in Matt Aselton’s Lying and Stealing, which opens this Friday in New York.

Warding loves to quote Willie Sutton, but he prefers to rob from silly rich art collectors. Since banks are Federally insured—that means by us taxpayers—we do not object to his strategy. As [bad] luck would have, moving stolen art on the grey market happens to be one of the other major ventures of Dimitri Maropakis, the bookie holding all the senior Warding’s IOUs. Ivan has been doing this for a while, so he expects to be Even-Steven soon. Of course, Maropakis is not exactly trust-worthy, but he offers the thief a deal. The first job is stealing a Hitler self-portrait from a twitchy and well-armed National Socialism memorabilia collector. The second job will be named later.

To further complicate Warding’s life, he is forced to take in his bipolar but smarter-than-he-looks brother Raymond, who has just been evicted from his halfway house. The FBI agent parked outside his apartment, Lyman Wilkers, is not helping much either. However, there is Elyse Tibladi, an attractive struggling actress and con artist, whom he keeps crossing paths with.

Theo James and Emily Ratajkowski are not exactly Peter O’Toole and Audrey Hepburn in How to Steal a Million, but they have serviceable chemistry. James deserves particular credit for some solid comic timing and a rather decent leading man presence, exceeding viewer expectations quite a bit. Fred Melamed provides a memorable villain, chewing the scenery with flamboyant élan, as the hedonistic Maropakis. Isiah Whitlock Jr. also adds some welcome dry sarcasm as Wilkers.

L&S is a modest film, but it hums along at a healthy clip and manages to punch above its weight class. (Still, it should be noted the film is probably a tad more violent than it really should have been.) Likeably entertaining but nothing transcendent, Lying and Stealing opens this Friday (7/12) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

King of Thieves: Michael Caine Recruits the Old Gang

They were like a real-life Going in Style, but these retirement aged crooks had sharper elbows. They also pulled off what is considered the biggest heist job in British history. This is the third film version of the unlikely Hatton Garden caper, but the first to reach our shores in any noticeable way. Crime does not pay, not even for seniors, but at least it provides a way to pass the time in James Marsh’s King of Thieves, which releases today on DVD.

Brian Reader didn’t exactly go straight, but he got out of the game relatively on top. Out of his past “known associates,” John “Kenny” Collins is somewhat comfortable, but Terry Perkins, Danny Jones, and Carl Wood are largely scuffling. When “Basil,” a socially awkward security specialist comes to Reader with a potentially lucrative score (a safety deposit company catering to gem merchants), he has no trouble recruiting his old accomplices. The question is whether the recently bereaved Reader’s heart is really in it. Just try doing him dirty and see what happens.

Details of the Hatton Garden heist are still coming to light, even at this late date. Regardless, the Rififi-esque caper business is pretty entertaining, but Joe Penhall’s screenplay focuses more on the subsequent double-crosses.

Of course, the whole point of King is watching Sir Michael Caine do his thing as Reader. He has been stealing jewels in films since before you were born, so show some respect. He’s Michael Bloomin’ Caine and he is terrific as Reader. When he gets hacked off, all that old magic comes back with a vengeance.

As usual, Ray Winstone is as compulsively watchable as ever as the brawler, Jones, while Jim Broadbent takes advantage of the opportunity to finally chew some scenery as the goonish Perkins. Tom Courtenay plays Collins as a bit of a silly duffer, but it is just embarrassing to see Michael Gambon stuck as the butt of jokes as Billy “The Fish” Lincoln, the incontinent fence. Still, there is Caine and Winstone.

Clearly, nobody better understands the appeal of this greybeard A-Team than Marsh because he openly invites nostalgia by incorporating clips from their classic street-smart swinging sixties films, most especially the original Italian Job. British pop-jazz vocalist Jamie Cullum also maintains the cool retro vibe with his groovy, brassy cover of The Killers’ “The Man.”

Harry Brown is still probably the ultimate Michael Caine film, but it is great to see him strut his way through a capery lark, more or less in the tradition of Italian Job and Silver Bears. Recommended for fans of heist movies and the accomplished cast, King of Thieves releases today (3/26) on DVD and BluRay.

Finding Steve McQueen—Not Really About Steve McQueen

Harry Barber couldn’t drive like Lt. Frank Bullitt or steal like Thomas Crown, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying. The small-time crook who seriously hero-worshipped Steve McQueen somehow found himself in the middle of what many consider to be the biggest bank robbery score in U.S. history. Barber managed to elude capture for some time, but when the Feds start to close in, he will finally confess all to his shocked girlfriend in Mark Steven Johnson’s Finding Steve McQueen, which opens tomorrow in New Jersey.

Needless to say, Barber is a bit of a meathead, but not a bad guy. His uncle Enzo Rotella was a creep, but Barber still hoped to join his Youngstown based crew of thieves, because he really didn’t have anything else going on. Against his better judgement, Rotella takes on Barber and his PTSD-suffering Vietnam veteran brother, for the bank job to end all bank jobs.

The gig came to Rotella indirectly, via Teamster union boss Jimmy Hoffa, who got wind Nixon kept his slush money cash in a safety deposit box unobtrusively located in the United California Bank of Laguna Niguel, an easy drive from San Clemente. As we can tell from the flashback structure, the initial Rififi-esque blasting and drilling went remarkably smoothly, but things went sour during the weeks that followed.

So, eh. There is some okay caper business that unfolds on the roof and inside the vault of the United California, but most of the characters are either wildly annoying or bland cardboard cut-outs. It gets especially tiresome listening to Rotella (based on the real-life Amil Dinsio) rage against Nixon. Seriously, that was over forty-five years ago and Watergate doesn’t even look so bad by today’s low standards.

Frankly, it would be understandable if the McQueen family sued the producers, because the legendary star’s connection to the events dramatized was less than tangential. It should go without saying, but Barber was no Steve McQueen, at least as he is portrayed by Travis Fimmel. Yet, he is still rather likable, in a lunkheaded way. Unfortunately, his chemistry with Rachael Taylor as the stunned Molly Murphy never feels remotely believable.

By far, the best thing about Finding is Forest Whitaker, who is terrific as the world-weary Special Agent Howard Lambert. It is a performance of dignity and pathos. He also nicely develops Lambert’s awkwardly platonic professional relationship with his junior colleague, Sharon Price, played with quiet subtlety by Lily Rabe. The great William Fichtner does his thing as Rotella, but he is stuck with way too many political diatribes. John Finn chews plenty of scenery as well, as Deputy Director W. Mark Felt—and we all know what makes his presence significant.

Screenwriters Ken Hixon and Keith Sharon (a reporter at the Orange County Register) intriguingly blend capery crime fiction with political history, but they frequently stipulate events and theories not entirely established by the historical record. Ultimately, it is just sort of okay, but nothing special. Maybe Whitaker fans will eventually find it worth streaming for free, but there is no pressing need to rush out to see it when Finding Steve McQueen opens tomorrow (3/15) in Jersey, at the AMC Cherry Hill.

Ruben Brandt, Collector

He is something like a cross between the protagonists from Hitchcock’s Spellbound and To Catch a Thief. Dr. Brandt is a world-renowned head-shrinker, who is fully capable of curing his own inner demons, but his therapy is literally criminal. With the help of his patients, he will steal what troubles his psyche. “Possess your problems to conquer them” is one of the principles of his treatment, so the good doctor will take possession of some of the world’s greatest works of art in director-screenwriter-animation designer Milorad Krstić’s sly animated caper Ruben Brandt, Collector (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Mimi is cat burglar par excellence, who was hired to pilfered a rare gem from the Louvre, but she swiped an exquisite Chinese fan instead, because she found it more aesthetically pleasing. Alas, her nemesis, private detective Mike Kowalski recovers the rare piece, but Mimi slips through his fingers yet again. Of course, her mobbed up employer is unhappy with her improvisation, so she decides to lay low by seeking treatment at the Swiss clinic under the direction of celebrated art therapist Ruben Brandt.

Brandt really is a good doctor, who has been able to help his patients, like Bye-Bye Joe, a celebrity bodyguard, who is more Vin Diesel than Vin Diesel, but he has been plagued by vivid nightmares of great artistic masterpieces (Botticelli’s Venus drowned him j-horror style with her tentacle-like hair, for example). Unbeknownst to Brandt, his father, a B.F. Skinnerist mind-control researcher, tried to program into an artistic genius using subliminally enhanced cartoons. Out of appreciation and gratitude, Mimi, Bye-Bye Joe and their fellow patients, the ultra-flat bank-robber Membrano Bruno and the super-hacker Fernando will steal the paintings tormenting Brant’ subconscious.

On one level, Collector is a globe-trotting escapade that visits some of the most picturesque museums on earth, including the Guggenheim and the Oscar Niemeyer-designed Niterói Contemporary Art Museum in Rio. In addition, it is crammed to the rafters with erudite visual references to fine art and great cinema. Frankly, it could take hours to unpack and catalog them all, but most viewers will be distracted by Krstić’s manically-energetic and highly cinematic chase scenes. They are grounded in reality, but he takes advantage of the animated format to push them beyond the bounds of what mortal stunt-performers should be willing to attempt.

It should also be noted Collector is definitely intended to be an animated film for mature adults. The action never gets particularly violent, but it definitely has a grown-up sensibility. There is no hanky-panky between characters either, but Mimi is definitely a slinky, seductive femme fatale and Kowalski’s assistant Marina often works remotely from the spa, in various states of undress. In fact, she ought to replace Jessica Rabbit as the pin-up favorite of animation geeks.

Honestly, Collector is such a clever and stylish film, it makes us wonder what the heck the Academy thinking overlooking it (as well as an original vision like Tito and the Birds) in favor of two ho-hum sequels. Seriously, the animated division needs to raise its game and refine their tastes.

Of course, Collector is much more than a series of cultural and artistic references. It is also jolly entertaining. This is a jaunty romp that has some ingenious shoes to drop, worthy of old Hitch himself. Krstić’s animation is also archly striking, somewhat resembling Gagnol & Felicioli’s Phantom Boy, but with cubist accents to give it a bit of surrealist panache. Highly recommended for fans of high and pop art, Ruben Brandt, Collector opens this Friday (2/15) in New York, at the Angelika Film Center.

Blue Iguana: Sam Rockwell Gets Capery

Usually, Hope-level diamonds have disappointingly prosaic names, often referring to their place of origin. The “Pink Panther” is fictional, but the “Martian Pink” is a real enough outlier that sounds so romantic, you’d think jewel thieves would always be trying to steal it. The “Blue Iguana” is that kind of rock. It has already been stolen, so a motley crew of Yanks and Brits might as well steal it again in Hadi Hajaig’s Blue Iguana (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Just plain Eddie and his pal Paul Driggs should not even be allowed to travel to London, because they are parolees, but Katherine Rookwood can be very persuasive. She needs them for a simple hold-up job, but it gets complicated when somebody dies. It really wasn’t their fault—honest. However, both Rookwood and the Yanks both sort of double-cross each other, but at least she also prevents her gangster employer Arkady from putting a hit out on them, at no small financial cost to herself.

With nothing to show for their efforts so far, Rookwood, the Yanks, and their British accomplices decide to double-down on an even bigger score: the Blue Iguana. A Middle Eastern prince gave it to his hard-partying Euro wife, before giving her the boot. To get back into the royal family’s good graces, she needs to show the stone is safe and secure. Of course, she lost it long ago, but it looks like Arkady is planning to sell it back to her. Rookwood and company would like to fulfill that deal instead.

Despite a rather high body-count, Blue Iguana is a likable caper film that draws tremendous energy from its two leads. Granted, Eddie is rather gruff and grizzled, but he still represents an unusually light-comedic character for Sam Rockwell. Frankly, he seems to be enjoying the change of pace, but he is just as fully committed to the grumpy crook as he was to the snarling indie rogue’s gallery he is known for. Likewise, Phoebe Fox is just terrific as Rookwood, portraying her as a smart, mordant professional, who is also necessarily idiosyncratic—hence the company she keeps. Their scenes together crackle with electricity.

In contrast, a little of Ben Schwartz as Driggs the man-child goes a long way. It is also a bit disturbing to see Amanda Donohoe (from Lair of the White Worm) portraying the man-eating cougar mother of Arkady’s thuggish enforcer, who is the focus of some smarmy humor. However, the great Simon Callow classes up the joint in his scenes as Rookwood’s flamboyant criminal Uncle Martin.

A lot of fans will be very curious to see Rockwell in such a different context, so it is nice to be able to assure them that he does not disappoint. Hajaig wrote and helmed a breezy romp that actually skips over the Tarantino era, drawing inspiration from the uber-cool 1980s and the colorfully tacky 1970s (both of which were much more fun). It is a nice balance of attitude and nostalgia that should garner enthusiastic word-of-mouth. Recommended for caper movie fans, Blue Iguana opens this Friday (8/24) in New York, at the Village East.

Japan Cuts ’18: We Make Antiques!

The tradition of pottery and ceramics dates back to at least 600 BC in Japan, where it remains a vital and respected medium for contemporary artists. You can see that for yourself from the exhibitions the Ippodo Gallery regularly stages in New York. You won’t come across the work of Sasuke Noda there anytime soon. He had that kind of potential, but he was ruined by an unscrupulous dealer. He now gets by on modest forgery scams, but he has a chance for some Sting-style payback in Masaharu Take’s We Make Antiques! (trailer here), which screens during the 2018 Japan Cuts Festival of New Japanese Film.

Norio Koike is sort of like Lovejoy, but less ethical. Ever since the smalltime dealer was fooled by a forgery foisted on him by Tadayasu Hiwatashi and his dodgy expert authenticator Seiichiro Tanahashi, he forced himself to develop an eye for immediately detecting fakes, regardless of what the provenance might say. Yet, he still fell for Noda’s counterfeit Raku tea bowl.

It turns out Hiwatashi and Tanahashi were also the ones who destroyed Noda’s reputation. Despite their awkward introduction, the two scammers quickly discover they are birds of a feather with mutual enemies. With the older gent’s network and dealer credentials, they can take the con Noda ran on Koike to a much higher level, like something in the neighborhood of 100 million Yen. (Actually, that is a few fingers less than a million dollars US, but it still fills up more than one briefcase.) They just need a more compelling fake Raku bowl.

Yes, the con is on and it is indeed breezy fun. This is an amiable film with some low-key elements of farce. There is some door slamming and hiding under tables, but it never descends into slapstickery. In fact, the film genuinely has a passion for ceramics, which it wants to share. The patrons and staff of the Ippodo would probably get a big kick out of it, but fans of caper movies will also dig the scheming and scamming.

Kiichi Nakai is delightfully roguish as Koike, the charming old rake. Watching him smooth talk his way through the picture is just good clean entertainment. Kuranosuke Sasaki’s Noda is rougher around the edges and more understated, but he nicely compliments Nakai. Kogan Ashiya and Masaomi Kondo make appropriately pompous villains, while a veritable rogue’s gallery of character actors add all kinds of color and energy as Koike and Noda’s assorted bunco accessories.

It all goes down easy and even swings, thanks to the jazzy soundtrack composed by Harumi Fuki, including some epic drum solos worthy of Birdman. It is light and breezy, yet Nakai and Fuki still demonstrate virtuoso mastery of their respective crafts. Highly recommended for fans of con artist films, We Make Antiques! screens tomorrow (7/22) at the Japan Society, as part of this year’s Japan Cuts.

Supercon: Taking Down the Con Crud

Fan conventions are quite a shrewd place to pull off a heist-caper. There is tons of cash floating around, as well as a bunch of distracting odors. The cos play will also be handy for five questionable celebrities out for a big score in Zak Knutson’s Supercon (trailer here), which opens today in New York.

As a child actor, Keith Mahar played a cringey Indian stereotype with testicular cancer. Now approaching middle age, he ekes out a living at fan conventions. At least Matt Wheeler was the lead of his canceled TV show. Brock Hutchinson was a legit star in the 1970s, but those days are long gone. On the plus side, he can be much more open about his sexual orientation. Comic book artist Allison McNeeley has real talent, but since when has that ever been enough. They are all regularly exploited by Shatneresque TV space opera icon Adam King and his crooked partner, Gil Bartell, the forces behind the three-day cash cow, Supercon.

When Bartell fires the fab four and threatens to blackball them at other cons, they decide to hit back where it will hurt them the most—their wallets. With the help of respected comic book and screenwriting legend Sid Newberry, they hatch a crackpot scheme to rob the cash fleeced from fans. Thomas Crown would not approve of their minimal preparation, but they have plenty of enthusiasm to compensate.

That is somewhat true of the film as well. The screenplay is basically a clothes line holding a series of gags and rude insults, but it blithely barrels ahead at warp speed. In fact, the ensemble seems to have a go-for-broke spirit, weirdly invigorated by the in-jokes and defiant political incorrectness.

Surprisingly, John Malkovich (yes, the John Malkovich) actually tones it down a little as the Obiwan Kenobi-like Newberry, but he nicely provides the film’s fan-centric ethical compass. Russell Peters makes Mahar an unusually dry and acerbic sad sack loser, which is an accomplishment. Brooks Braselman goes in all for flamboyant shtick as Hutchinson, but he also delivers some cuttingly droll lines. Maggie Grace’s McNeeley is also quite the lethal banterer. Ryan Kwanten is a bit out of his league in their company as the impulsive Wheeler, but Clancy Brown is totally in his element, chewing the scenery as the scenery-chewing King.

Supercon is definitely slapdash, but it would be a blast to watch at one of the bigger Comic Cons. Clearly, Knutson and co-screenwriters Andrew Sipes and Dana Snyder know their con culture. It is hard to imagine actually paying money to see this film in a brick-and-mortar theater, but Supercon has its place in the world and should find an extensive audience. It is not exactly recommended, but this is a film that is bound to find real fans eventually, so you can just wait for it to happen. For the time being, Supercon opens today (4/27) in New York, at the Cinema Village.

SF Indie Fest ’18: The Midnighters

Victor Lustig was in prison throughout the 1980s, so he missed Tough Guys with Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster, but he would understand the premise. He also missed Rectify, but now he can start binging it. After forty-some years behind bars, Lustig is finally paroled. Of course, he only had one skill—safe-cracking, but there is still a demand for it in Julian Fort’s The Midnighters (trailer here), which screens tomorrow during the 2018 SF Indie Fest.

Lustig is in his early 70s and practically destitute, with no foreseeable prospects, but he accepts full responsibility for his situation and refuses to feel sorry for himself. Supposedly, an associate was holding his share of the loot for safe-keeping, but it was plundered in the 80s. At this point, it isn’t worth getting upset over, but it necessarily means Lustig could use the money when he is offered a potentially lucrative safe job.

Frankly, the gig smells like trouble, so Lustig probably would have passed if it hadn’t been his long-lost son Danny recruiting him. The junior Lustig apparently entered the family business, but he uses computers rather than dynamite or a stethoscope. However, it is the senior Lustig who better understands the gravity of Danny’s new Russian mob associates.

For years, journeyman character actor Leon Rossum has paid the bills with soap opera work, but his leading man star turn was worth witting for. As Lustig, he nails all the expected hardboiled attitude and world-weariness, but he also conveys the tragic dignity of the Rip Van Winkle character. If this were a major studio release, Rossum would be a shoe-in for awards consideration, but it isn’t, so the lazy guilds and critics groups will just ignore it. It is a shame, because it is terrific work, comparable in several respects to Robert Forster in Jackie Brown.

Rossum’s fellow episodic television veteran John Wesley matches his grizzled charisma but adds some scene-stealing sardonic humor as Lustig’s old crony Chester. Likewise, Larry Cedar largely defines the film with his relatively brief but significant screen time as Lustig’s hope-scuttling parole officer.

About midway through Midnighters, Lustig’s son delivers an amped-up Tarantino-esque monologue, but the old man immediately undercuts it with a brutal reality check. It is about that time most viewers will start to realize this is a really good movie. It is a small, intimate film, but Fort polishes it to a gem-like sheen. The actual caper business is rather clever, but it feels like a secondary concern compared to the study of Lustig’s flawed but deeply compelling character. Very highly recommended, The Midnighters screens tomorrow (2/11), as part of this year’s SF Indie Fest.

Melville’s Bob le Flambeur

Forget about An American in Paris and Amélie. Bob Montagné knows the real Montmartre. It is a place where you can find dodgy night clubs and all-night card games. The latter have always been Montagné’s bread and butter, but he has been on a ruinous losing streak lately. Out of desperation he will revert to his old criminal ways in Jean-Pierre Melville’s classic caper film, Bob le Flambeur (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York, freshly restored in 4K.

Twenty years ago, Montagné did time for a hold-up, but he has been straight ever since. As a professional gambler, he still rubs shoulders with the underground, but he keeps his nose clean and maintains a non-snitching friendship with Inspector Ledru, a cop whose life Montagné once saved. For years, “Bob the High-Roller” made a good living off cards and dice, but his luck has turned. However, a casual conversation with his former safe-cracker crony gives him an idea.

An old associate now working as a croupier at the Deauville casino puts them onto the perfect time the hit the cash-rich safe. It will be a complicated job, requiring a large crew, but Montagné knows people. His first recruit will be his protégé, Paolo, but the aspiring dissolute character is distracted by his desire for Anne, a pretty but selfish femme fatale-runaway Montagné saved from Montmartre’s more exploitative elements. Marc the pimp, Ledru’s sleazy new informant is also sniffing around for something to satisfy the copper.

Flambeur is partly a heist film and partly a gambling movie, but it is all pure noir. Originally, Melville wanted Jean Gabin for the title role, but he settled for journeyman thesp Roger Duchesne, who is now best-remembered for Montagné—and justly so. It is a terrific, career-defining performance, filled with the sort of jaded, world weary insouciance only a middle-aged French leading man at the peak of his power could carry off. The mane is gray, but he is still cooler than Fonzie or even James Dean.

Isabelle Corey is also quite something else as Anne. She debuted in Flambeur, immediately becoming the French “It Girl” of the late 1950s, but after Vadim’s …And God Created Woman, nearly all of her subsequent work would be in Italian productions. Regardless, she and Duchesne have some wonderfully potent non-romantic chemistry going on.

Henri Decaë’s ultra-noir black-and-white cinematography is a joy to soak in. Plus, the moody soundtrack, heavy on vibes and boudoir saxophone, composed by French jazz musician and record label founder Eddie Barclay with bandleader Jo Boyer, is right on the money. The twists are deliciously ironic but perfectly fitting, so it seems bizarre in retrospect it was not an immediate hit in France and did not score a proper American release until 1982, especially since it is now considered a key influence for the French Nouvelle Vague. Very highly recommended, Bob le Flambeur opens this Friday (1/5) in New York, at Film Forum.

A Bad Idea Gone Wrong: A Low Calorie Caper

Marlon and Leo are just brimming with resentment for the one-percenters, because they want to be part of them. At least they are more honest than most people who use that term. They are going to steal from them outright. Of course, their breaking-and-entering escapades will take on several unforeseen complications in Jason Headley’s A Bad Idea Gone Wrong (trailer here), which opens today and tomorrow in select cities.

Marlon has a stupid fantasy of pulling a stick-up job, like the diner scene in Pulp Fiction, but Leo has the fractionally less stupid idea of burglarizing a house in a gated community. He knows the couple will be out of town, because she is his ex-fiancée, whom he has been cyber-stalking. Leo tries to keep those awkward facts to himself, but they will come out soon enough.

Frankly, Marlon has a somewhat clever method for getting into the gated development, but he reverts to form when he inadvertently arms the security alarm. Suddenly, they are trapped inside the house, at least until they can figure out the code. Perhaps the house-sitter they are completely surprised to find dozing in the master bedroom can help.

Bad Idea is small in scope, but rather funny, albeit in a modest way. As Marlon and Leo, Matt Jones and Will Rogers bicker and banter with easy, credible rapport. However, Eleanore Pienta scores most of the biggest laughs as Darcy, the house-sitter with a quickly revealed secret. It is hard to resist laughing when she is giving those two sad sacks what-for.

This is an enjoyable film in the moment, but absolutely nothing about it sticks in a viewer’s subconscious. It barely stretches to eighty-five minutes, including the end credits, yet it still feels padded. Still, if you want a pleasant film that leaves absolutely no baggage behind, this would be it. It was actually a Jury Award winner at SXSW, which just goes to show the Austin-based fest is no Sundance.

This year, probably no film will be damned with more faint praise than A Bad Idea Gone Wrong. Still, we’d rather re-watch it a dozen times than sit through ten minutes of the Tom Cruise-monstrosity The Mummy again. Recommended as the light weight fare it is, A Bad Idea Gone Wrong opens today (11/30) in Chicago at the Studio Movie Grill and several other cities (including Fort Collins, CO) tonight and tomorrow.

The Swindlers: Conning the Con Artist

In The Flim-Flam Man, George C. Scott often says “you can’t cheat an honest man.” That’s Hwang Ji-sung’s entire business plan. He is a con artist, who targets other con artists (including the respectable white-collar variety). Hwang has no end of possible targets, but there is one particular purveyor of Ponzi schemes he has his sights set on. The con is on and it is definitely personal in Jang Chang-won’s deviously entertaining The Swindlers (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Jang Doo-chil is the Korean D.B. Cooper of pyramid schemes. He got away with billions and then faked his death in China, leaving behind thousands of ruined lives and at least ten suicides. Of course, to get away, he relied on highly placed corrupt officials in the Korean government. He also had papers forged by Hwang’s father, who was killed for his efforts, as a loose end. Since then, Hwang has sworn to kill Jang—and also shake loose some cash in the process.

That might sound like idle talk, but he is starting to get close enough to attract the attention of prosecutor Park Hee-soo. Hwang has already laid the groundwork to compromise a small-time real estate shark with direct links to Jang. Park wants in on the plan, so he puts his off-the-books team of not-so-reformed bunco artists at Hwang’s disposal. That includes a computer guy, Choon-ja, the designated femme fatale, and Ko Suk-dong, whom Hwang set up in one of his previous scams.

By the way, do not trust anybody. Sure, you’ve heard that before, but in this case, its warranted. It is amazing this is Jang Chang-won’s feature directorial debut, because he pulls of so much sleight of hand right before our eyes. It is also a minor miracle his attractive ensemble never starts breaking up, but they bluff their way through like consummate con artist professionals.

Of course, super-recognizable thesps like Park Sung-woong and Bae Sung-woo are total pros, who deliver in spades as the resentful Ko and Kwak Seung-gun, Jang Doo-chil’s trusted money man. Somehow, as Hwang, Hyun-Bin looks younger and edgier than he has in previous films like Confidential Assignment, so hey, good for him. Former K-pop star Nana also handles comedy and seduction with stylish flair as Choon-ja.

The Swindlers is the sort of film that totally plays viewers, but leaves them well satisfied by the experience. It is a good example of Korea’s emerging comparative advantage in caper movies, along with films like Seondal: The Man Who Sells the River and The Thieves. Logan Lucky was a genial film that critics hailed, but it is minor league small ball compared to The Swindlers. Very highly recommended for fans of Sting-style big con game movies, The Swindlers opens this Friday (12/1) in New York, at the AMC Empire.

Baadshaho: An Emergency Caper

Given all the sky-is-falling media coverage of the Trump Administration, you would think India’s Emergency Period would suddenly be a hot topic. From late June 1975 to late March 1977, the world’s largest democracy essentially put its democratic government on hold, instituting something very much like martial law. Of course, PM Indira Gandhi was a socialist, more or less. She was complicated and the media can’t handle that. From time to time, Indian pop culture sizes up the Emergency Period and finds it rather odd. Evidently, they have reached the point when they can use the era of widespread human rights abuses as the backdrop for an action movie (that sounds like progress to us). Government stooges have plundered the ancient family treasure of a beloved Rajasthan princess, but her loyal bodyguard and on-again-off-again lover intends to hijack it back in Milan Luthria’s Baadshaho (trailer here), which is currently playing in Los Angeles.

Maharani Gitanjali always knew she could rely on strong, silent Bhavani Singh and that up-and-coming politician Sanjeev is total pond scum. She rebuffs Sanjeev’s advances, so he nationalizes her gold (meaning he will deposit it in his own coffers, for the sake of the “public good”), so Singh will assemble a colorful team to steal it back. Sounds simple, right? Wrong, complications are aplenty, starting with the transport truck, a veritable bank vault on wheels, and the multiple combination locks to be cracked therein.

Fortunately, Singh knows the crankiest safecracker on the subcontinent. He will also recruit his self-styled lothario pal Dalia, and Gitanjali’s trusted rep, Sanjana. Ordinarily, those four could easily handle all the cops and military personnel from Jodhpur to Delhi, but Major Seher Singh is also on the case. That one will be trouble, even before the double and triple crosses start coming fast and furious.

Surely, the Emergency Period was nowhere near as much fun as it looks in Baadshaho. For one thing, Dalia gets a suggestive Bollywood number with a dancer played by Sunny Leone in cameo that doesn’t exactly stretch her screen persona. There is a bounty of action involving barrel-chested Singh the bodyguard climbing over the roof and under the chassis of speeding flatbed fortress. However, the real pleasures of Baadshaho are the courtly intrigues swirling around Gitanjali.

As the dueling Singhs, Ajay Devgn and Vidyut Jamwal have mucho action chops and are quite evenly matched when it comes to swaggering screen presence. However, neither of them can lay a finger on Ileana D’Cruz, who burns up the screen as the femme fatale Mahrani. Man, is she ever formidable, just you wait and see. She basically owns the film, but it is also nice to have Denzil Smith onboard as Seher Singh’s commanding officer Rudra Singh, because his baritone voice can make even the most prosaic lines sounds like “now is the winter of our discontent.”

Screenwriter Rajat Arora largely sidesteps the bitterest controversies of the Emergency Period, but his screenplay certainly makes the cops and military of the era look venal and sadistic. It is mostly about meatheadish pedal-to-metal action, but Luthria and film editor Aarif Sheikh cleverly keep cutting back and reframing a pivotal scene that will eventually have viewing chuckling in anticipation. Mostly just good, clean, Indian-censorship-office-approved fun with the added weird fascination of its setting, Baadshaho is now showing in Los Angeles at the Laemmle Town Center.

Soderbergh’s Logan Lucky

It is not exactly Le Mans, but since it usually runs over four hours, the Coca-Cola 600 is easily the longest race of the NASCAR season. That’s a lot of time to spend money at the concessions. Hopefully, it will also give Jimmy Logan enough time to pull off an unlikely heist in Steven Soderbergh’s Logan Lucky (trailer here), which opens today nationwide.

Logan thought he would claw his way out of border state poverty playing football, but when his knee blew out, he lost his scholarship. Work had been so scarce, he drove all the way into North Carolina for a construction gig, but he is fired by the cold-blooded HR department for not disclosing his limp. At least Logan got a good look around while he was on the job repairing sink-holes under Charlotte Motor Speedway. Turns out, there is a system of pneumatic tubes that takes money dropped at the registers directly into the vault. It is enough to give a fellow ideas.

If truth be told, the Logan family could use the money. According to his brother Clyde, there is a Logan family curse responsible for Jimmy’s knee and the hand he lost while serving in Iraq. So far, their sister Mellie has escaped the curse, but the beautician is hardly living on Easy Street. When his ex-wife serves notice of her intention to move further away with his beloved daughter Sadie, it creates a sense of urgency, so he hatches a scheme to knock over the Speedway. In additon to his siblings, Logan will also need the help of the only demolitions expert he knows. Unfortunately, bleach-blond Joe Bang is serving time in prison, with his parole imminently approaching, so the Logans will have to sneak him in and out of prison without anyone being the wiser.

Frankly, some of the cleverest parts of the scheme revolve around that secret prison break. Unlike most caper films since Rififi, Soderbergh and first-time screenwriter Rebecca Blunt do not immediately explain the full extent of their plan, opting instead to reveal it step-by-step, while the heist is already underway. Apparently, critics on both coasts are so obsessed with the Donald, nearly every review includes a condescending line to the effect of: “this is Trump country, but the Logans are surprisingly likable and dignified.” Conversely, no Western Virginian review of a Woody Allen movie would ever feel the need to observe: “when Upper-Eastsiders are not dining at Elaine’s, marrying their ex-wives’ adopted daughters, and hosting fundraisers for Hillary Clinton, they are just as insecure as the rest of us.”

Regardless who the Logans might have voted for, the suggestion Soderbergh treats them and their milieu with respect is indeed correct. Frankly, Channing Tatum and Adam Driver look more like real life siblings than any movie pairing since De Caprio and Carey Mulligan appeared as near-identical twins, Jay Gatsby and Daisy Buchanan in Baz Luhrmann’s accidentally taboo take on the Great Gatsby. As Jimmy and Clyde Logan, they convey a sense of years of shared history and the shorthand that comes with such familiarity. When Tatum rolls his eyes at Driver’s talk of the curse, we feel like they have replayed this scene thousands of times before.

Yet, the most important relationship in the film is that between Jimmy and Sadie Logan. We can believe he would indeed risk his fabulous bachelor lifestyle to maintain their connection and possibly scratch out better futures for them both. A good deal of pre-release publicity has understandably focused on Daniel Craig’s drolly eccentric and muscularly swaggering performance as Joe Bang, but Riley Keough stands a chance of breaking through to Tatum’s level of fame through her work as the sassy but grounded Mellie. As a bonus, Hillary Swank and Blue Ruin’s Macon Blair nicely uphold the Twin Peaks-X-Files tradition of eccentric FBI agents in near cameos as the investigating Feds.

Lucky has a pleasantly genial vibe, but the stakes for the Logans are much higher than in Soderbergh’s Ocean films, which diegetic news reports slyly name-drop. There are definitely some clever bits, but more importantly, the film has real heart. Recommended for fans of caper movies and NASCAR, Logan Lucky opens today (8/18) across the country, including the AMC Empire in New York.

The Adventurers: Andy Lau Steals His Way Across Europe

Evidently, French prisons are so hot at rehabilitation either. To be fair, this Hong Kong jewel thief was primed for recidivism. He was caught stealing part of the priceless “Gaia” three-piece necklace set. To find the villain who betrayed him, he will need the other two pieces. He will also commit crimes against the English language, but his French copper nemesis sounds nearly as awkward in Stephen Fung’s breezy The Adventurers (trailer here), which opens this Friday in New York.

Dan Zhang is an old school Thomas Crowne kind of jewel thief, who was planning on going straight after the big score that sent him up the river. With a few loyal accomplices and “Red” Ye, a hotshot new recruit, Zhang plans to take the other two pieces of Gaia. The first outstanding component-piece has been put up for charity auction in Paris by Tingting, a Chinese celebrity animal lover. Ironically, Red will whip up the animal rights protestors against her, over her alleged fur wardrobe, to cover-up the caper unfolding.

That will be the easy heist, even though it is in Bissette’s backyard. The hard one will be the third piece of Gaia, nestled in a vault within a castle outside Prague, owned by a nouveau riche Chinese oligarch. His security is state-of-tomorrow’s-art, but Zhang has Red. However, Bissette also has his own surprise ally, Amber Li, the art expert who authenticated the original fateful piece of Gaia, who happened to be engaged to Zhang at the time. Unaware of his true profession, she also felt slightly betrayed by the events that transpired.

Despite the fractured syntax, The Adventurers is cheerful throwback to old fashioned caper movies. Yes, there are all kinds of double- and triple-crosses going on, but it is still a genuinely low stress affair. It is all about exotic locales (Paris, Prague, Kiev), cat burglar stunts and gizmos, and a ridiculously attractive cast (Andy Lau, Shu Qi, Zhang Jingchu, You Tianyi, and probably Tony Yo-ning Yang counts too), plus bonus character actors Jean Reno and Eric Tsang.

If you enjoy watching Raffles-like characters shimmying across ledges and illuminating motion sensor-lasers, then The Adventurers is your cup of General Foods International Coffee. As Zhang, Lau has his on-screen charm cranked up to eleven. Shu Qi enjoys playing against type as the mercenary femme fatale Red, but Zhang Jingchu might actually outshine everyone as the sensitive but cerebral Li. Of course, Reno and Tsang do their thing as Det. Bissette and Zhang’s “uncle” fence, King Kong.

The Adventurers probably will not make it onto very many awards ballots, but it will be fifty times more entertaining to re-watch than Crash, American Beauty, or Titanic. It is a fun, sparkly film that goes down easy and leaves you with a desire to visit Prague with Shu Qi or Andy Lau. Recommended as pleasant “Summer Friday” matinee, The Adventurers opens this Friday (8/18) in New York, at the Regal E-Walk.