Darren Aronofsky seems to have been more prolific but this is just his 9th feature since his debut, Pi, in 1998, which is, coincidentally, when this new film is set. And it's a film that wears its love for New York City on its sleeve. There are shots of the Twin Towers, streets full of rubbish, dingy apartments, and even a brief pass by of the iconic Kim's Video store (now immortalised in a documentary of the same name).
Austin Butler stars as Hank, a former wunderkind baseball player whose careless driving ruined his pro sports future, but also crucially took the life of a friend, a passenger in the car. Some wag on Letterboxd said this film was a great advert for seatbelts, it's a recurring Public Service Announcement. Hank is getting by in NY, thinking of getting serious with his girlfriend, Yvonne (Zoë Kravitz), and generally wallowing in his lost opportunities.
Events turn when neighbour Russ (Matt Smith), an obnoxious punk geezer, pops back to Laaaahhnd'n for a bit, leaving something important with Hank. Some ne'er-do-wells come knocking and proceed to batter seven shades of shit out of Hank. Enter Detective Roman (Regina King) and a couple of psychotic Hasidic Jews, the Drucker Brothers (Liev Schreiber & Vincent D'Onofrio) and so, carry on please plot.
The aforementioned MacGuffin keeps the messiness scattering along, and the film is replete with moments where the audience is asked to suspend disbelief. Lose a kidney? You'll be fine in a day or two, so fine that jumping off fire escapes won't bother you at all, and so on. I'm willing to accept that kind of guff, but harder to tolerate is the none-too-clever early 'fridging' of a key character. I felt this decision let the film down massively, and maybe this happens in Charlie Huston's book too, but it jarred here.
As far as the cast goes, Butler is ok, Kravitz is better, and Matt Smith is slightly overdoing things but is missed when he's not on screen. D'Onofrio and Schreiber are good value in violently comic roles. In essence though, the film isn't funny enough to work as a pure comedy but doesn't have the verve to succeed as a high tension crime caper. Aronofsky knows all the tricks (see the Chekov's Gun detail) so it's very neatly directed, it's just lacking some spark. And where was the Jane's Addiction song that it's obviously named after? Nowhere to be heard.
Caught Stealing is still showing around Aust, you can catch it in Perth at the Luna and Palace cinemas.
See also:
There are some echoes of Sean Baker's Anora (2024), especially from the Russian nutters, and I was strangely reminded of the Nite Owl scene from Curtis Hanson's brilliant L.A. Confidential (1997).
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