A short walk into Kelly Reichardt’s “The Mastermind,” a very different kind of art heist movie starring Josh O’Connor, and the irony of the title becomes readily apparent.
Because whatever one may say about JB Mooney, the mediocre art thief played by O’Connor, with an irascible, hangdog type of adversarial energy, is clear about what one cannot say. This one-time art student, now a family man and unemployed carpenter, is the furthest thing from a mastermind. He is neither clever, nor quick-thinking, nor sensible – qualities that one would consider necessary for planning a robbery.
But then, as we said, “the mastermind” This is hardly your typical heist movie. Usually a cinematic heist is spectacular – in its success or failure. Reichardt has stripped away all the spectacle and instead told a whimsical story of a man who makes a stupid mistake and gradually loses everything, like someone falling down a mountain in slow motion.
“Slow” is the operative word here. Reichardt takes her time with each shot, never rushing, as she crafts a carefully observed picture of Massachusetts life in the early 1970s, painted in earthy colors and framed to period perfection. This was a time when the now ubiquitous surveillance cameras weren’t around to catch any poor soul who decided to send a few guys to snatch a painting from a gallery in broad daylight and waited right outside in the car, like a dad in a school pickup.
We first meet JB at the fictional Framingham Museum, where he has taken wife Terry and two sons on a tour. While the family wandered off, JB quietly took a figurine out of a display case as the security guard took a nap – an early test of the security system.
Later at dinner with JB’s parents, his father – a stern local judge – wonders why his son is failing on the job front. JB says he has something good coming, and later he will ask his gentleman mother for money to finance the project. However, the most interesting thing about this dinner scene is the time Reichardt takes to depict a 70s family meal: meat and mashed potatoes, peas, corn on the cob, dinner rolls with butter.
Turns out, JB is plotting something nefarious in his basement. Simple plan: to steal four paintings – not Old Masters, but works by Arthur Dove, the pocket painter who studied at the school. At a meeting at home, he gives his untrained thieves their disguises: a pair of L’Aigs pantyhose to stick over their heads.
On the day of the robbery, problems arise. At school drop-off time, JB finds it closed for the day. What will he do with the children? You know it was back in the ’70s when he’d let young boys loose at a shopping center with some cash for junk food, and tell them to come back to the parking lot in a few hours.
The actual crime is remarkable…unusual. Reichardt’s observational, almost doctor-like style is at its best here. The pantyhose-clad dudes grab the booty without a blasting soundtrack or a hair-raising chase to amp up the energy. When someone goes rogue and holds a teenage girl at gunpoint – there shouldn’t have been any guns, but he wasn’t listening – they run down the stairs, beat up the security guard and jump in a car.
And then the trouble – and the movie – really begins. We realize that the story is not about a heist, but about the escalating consequences of one man’s unwise decisions and astonishing lack of self-awareness. Has JB even figured out how to fence the artwork? These paintings may not even be valuable, his father, unaware of his son’s involvement, thinks over dinner. JB hides the work in a dirty barn silo. But what’s next? Well, it doesn’t take long for someone to shout.
Soon, JB runs away. To his surprise, no one actually wants to see him – not his angry wife, not his friends. The irritated local goons come to meet him. As he slowly runs out of cash, his options diminish dramatically. And his brain cells are also the same; It never comes to his mind to change his hair or even cut his beard. Somehow O’Connor has a way of holding onto a little bit of our sympathy – small, but significant.
The supporting cast is perfectly cast, but it’s a shame that Haim isn’t used more – his most poignant scene is on the other end of a phone line, when JB is, surprisingly, apologizing for raising the family, but also asking him to give her the money.
Reichardt reminds us at several points that his film is set amid intense social turmoil over the Vietnam War, including fiery street protests. But the truth is that social context means nothing to JB. In O’Connor’s unique embodiment of the hopelessly mediocre man, our artless art thief doesn’t care about anything other than survival.
But even there, he doesn’t seem to commit very much, making careless decisions, which results in the film’s abrupt – but, in retrospect, satisfying – ending. And thus ends the story of our dacoit without any reason.
Mubi’s release “The Mastermind” is rated R “for some language” by the Motion Picture Association. Running time: 110 minutes. Three out of four stars.
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