By Matthew Moorcroft

Strong Recommendation

• Directed by Kelly Reichardt
• Starring Josh O’Connor, Alana Haim, Hope Davis, Bill Camp
• R

A heist film is not exactly the thing you would expect from Kelly Reichardt on first glance. The slow cinema auteur known for her meticulously and lesiurely paced stories is, on paper, the anti-crime movie filmmaker; not nearly energetic enough to allow for the high intensity needed for a film about high octane characters and scenarios and with filmmaking sensibilities too tied up in the natural world to really focus in on the more urban elements that you would see in a film of it’s ilk.

Reichardt is anything but predictable though, seemingly approaching each of her new films with a challenge in mind. In the case of The Mastermind, it seems that it’s designed from the ground up as a way to deviate from her normal modus operadi as a storyteller. It feels equally as challenging as a Reichardt film as it does a heist film in own right, seemingly wanting to test both boxes as far as it can take it while also maintaining Reichardt’s own signature touches and trademarks. It feels somehow alienating to both crowds; likely a little too light for some of Reichardt’s more obvious enthusiasts but also far too slow for those looking for a classical heist flick.

More playful then you would expect from her while also far slower and methodical then basically any other heist film you can think of, The Mastermind shockingly works in spite of that alienation and contradictions. It’s Reichardt deciding to let herself a little loose for once and have a bit of fun, letting the absurdity of the situation speak for itself and letting the film unravel from there. It’s art theft at it’s most moronic, and that itself both part of the joke and part of the appeal here.

As an art thief, or a self proclaimed one, J.B. believes he is doing a service by returning these portraits to the world, away from the world. But whether or not J.B. is right is not really the point, nor is the film too interested in exploring that. Instead, J.B. is an arrogant, pathetic man who is more interested in proving himself right then actually doing any sort of meaningful good in a world that is on the verge of changing. It’s the turn of the decade after all, and the Vietnam War protests that were once popular were now dying off and slowly but surely losing their appeal to the common folk. J.B. has no interest in this cause he can afford to, cause it doesn’t affect him. Why should he care when these paintings are clearly more important?

The actual heist itself (which is a masterclass of physical and verbal comedy from the entire cast) is quick, and the rest of the film sees J.B. and his gang unravel slowly but surely in key ways. He’s so clearly in over his head and he got himself into it but his only response is to dig himself deeper as opposed to just owning up to his stupidity. Once the third act also begins to get going, with him getting more desperate with his actions as to avoid confrontation with the authorities, the film speeds into high gear as it showcases the true levels of narcissism that J.B. will go in order to try and get himself out the hell of his own making.

Josh O’Connor uses this to his advantage here, using his naturally unassuming demeanor and frame to give a certain type of energy to J.B. that’s hard to replicate. He’s magnetically compelling here, particularly once the heist itself is finished and he has to work as a manipulator and liar. Straddling the line between believable enough to actually lie with conviction but also bad enough that it’s clear he’s not cut out for this is a difficult task but he plays it with ease, and he’s ends up being a clear standout of the cast amidst several strong players.

And even if somebody can’t vibe with the film on it’s wavelength – jazz score and all – there is a craft to admire about how accurately it replicates the time period of which it is set. It’s so natural that at a point you almost forget you are watching a period film and instead it sometimes feels like a historical document. The cars are suitably old school, the clothing feels just retro enough to put you in that mindset, and the amount of corded phones will have you flashing back to a time before the era of the cell phone. Reichardt likes to work with micro budgets and the fact much of this was likely pulled off with a low of a budget as it was is not only impressive – it’s also wildly embarrassing to big budget features who sometimes can’t even muster the same level of detail on triple figures.

I sincerely doubt those who aren’t already on board the train for Reichardt will find much to like here, but for those already converted to her strangely hypnotic and fully absorbing filmmaking, it’s likely The Mastermind will more then suffice. It’s nowhere near her best but that’s less of a knock on this film then it is a praise of her other work. A hell of a time for those willing to be on it’s wavelength and just a really great little movie all around, she just keeps doing it.