This film is supposed to be about a heist – but the only thing we’re robbed of is its potential

FILM
The Mastermind ★★
(M) 110 minutes

American writer-director Kelly Reichardt is widely known on the independent film circuit as the queen of understatement.

Josh O’Connor in a scene from The Mastermind.Credit: AP

She doesn’t believe in shortcuts. The camera sits and watches while her characters take their time in getting things done. At her best, she can slow your pulse and put you in a contemplative state of mind which eventually leads to empathy and understanding – as happens in her 2008 film, Wendy and Lucy, which provided a powerful boost to Michelle Williams’ career. A finely drawn portrait of a young homeless woman travelling across the country with her dog; it’s heartbreaking.

The Mastermind is another melancholy tale from Reichardt. Set in 1970 in the quiet New England town of Framingham, it’s been described as a heist movie but suspense is not part of the equation. The heist is merely the means to an end. We’re here to observe every minute of a self-destructive spiral engineered by Josh O’Connor’s James Blaine Mooney, whose father, a judge, regularly accuses him of not being very bright. Since the judge is a patronising bore, it would be very satisfying to see him proved wrong. You soon realise, however, that he’s absolutely right.

J.B. is a fine arts graduate who is visiting a local gallery with his wife and two small boys when first introduced. In front of a sleeping guard, he gives an intimation of things to come by stealing a small figure from a glass cabinet and slipping it into a bag belonging to his wife who doesn’t seem to object.

Why not? We never know. Reichardt doesn’t indulge in exposition. She’s so reluctant to editorialise that you’re not convinced you have a licence to laugh even when the plot is at its silliest.

This doesn’t take long to come about. J.B. hooks up with a group of petty criminals who know less about carrying out an art heist than he does but after he instructs them in the use of a stocking mask, they embark on a daylight robbery.

Having taken down two works by the pioneering abstract painter, Arthur Dove, still in their frames, they attempt to walk out of the gallery with them – despite the presence of a couple of terrified schoolgirls and the security guard downstairs, who is very much awake.

Admittedly, there have been some incredibly foolhardy heists in recent history but because the lead-up to this one has been so perfunctory, it falls far short of its comic potential. The film is billed as a tragi-comedy but the tonal shifts don’t really work. For farce, you need bustle, panic and exaggeration, and they don’t suit Reichardt’s style.

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She prefers to lurk in the shadows with J.B. – sometimes literally. There’s an extended sequence when the screen almost goes dark as we follow his efforts in heaving the paintings into his chosen hiding place. By now, he’s in all sorts of trouble although Reichardt’s fondness for the downbeat keeps the pivotal action offscreen. Instead, her focus remains on J.B. as his life is upended, his wife turns against him, and he goes on the run without really conceding that he’s to blame for his predicament.

There are some ruefully humorous moments, the funniest involving his unflappable son, Tommy (Jasper Thompson), who regards his father’s mystifying behaviour with a mature air of bemused curiosity. But O’Connor, who’s becoming an expert in deeply flawed characters, plays it straight and J.B. emerges as being too selfish and self-deluding to inspire your sympathy.

The Mastermind is in cinemas from October 23

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