Written and directed by Kelly Reichardt
Wrapped in autumn colors and soft light, The Mastermind is exactly what you would expect a Kelly Reichardt heist movie to sound, look, and move like. The leaves are changing, time slows, and every day feels like Sunday in 1970s New England.
The Mooneys are out and about: mother Terri (Alana Haim), father James (Josh O’Connor) and their two sons Tommy and Carl (Sterling Thompson and Jasper Thompson) are visiting their local museum, and only Terri’s paying attention. The boys are pre-teen, so their attention span is a wisp of smoke, but James is preoccupied too, scoping the layout, security guards, and other anti-heft devices.
This is curious, because he doesn’t resemble a criminal mastermind, nor do his two bumbling accomplices. These are just regular men. Only James seems blind to that fact, so when they later return to steal paintings in broad daylight, it can only go one way, and so The Mastermind unfolds, showing us a fairly realistic depiction of what it looks like when an out-of-work carpenter tries to stay one step ahead of the justice system.
Reichardt’s body of work is full of unassuming, slightly witless men. From her first feature, Old Joy, where two estranged friends struggle to spend a pleasant weekend together, to Certain Women, where Laura Dern and Michelle Williams’ characters have to contend with oafs and gormless partners with never-ending patience. Best case scenario is someone like John Magaro’s Cookie in First Cow, a meek mangenue.
James slides right into that pantheon. His wife has only exasperated consternation left for him, his father only disappointment. His mother… is still his mother. Despite this, O’Connor has a twinkle in his eyes that suggests self-delusion. It’s called for, because James never seems on the front foot, and as The Mastermind goes on, that twinkle will grow duller and duller. O’Connor adds some vitality to Reichardt’s movie, otherwise endlessly laid-back.
You’ll be forgiven for initially overestimating James at first, because Rob Murazek’s jazzy score is full of mystique and confidence. Suave, catchy – no one can fumble hard to a score like this. Christopher Blauvelt’s cinematography is so pleasing, so steeped in earth tones, so gentle, and combined with an increasing hush that falls over the movie as it winds along, you have a heist movie that feels like a wistful Sunday drive in the country.
This is exactly what you’d expect a Kelly Reichardt thriller to be. There’s a lot of light chuckling, a lived-in human connection, and now, the tension of outlaw life. Reichardt dabbled in this with Night Moves, but what was paranoia-driven back then is now an ever-deepening sigh: man, this did not go as planned.
As fun as The Mastermind is, Reichardt is still at her best when it’s the space between people she wriggles her way into. Her knack for crystallizing the small emotions that take up so much invisible space don’t come to the fore in a movie about a man’s desperate attempt to stay ahead, but if one wants to diversify one’s action movie consumption and try what can only be described as a slow thrill, this might just be the only chance you’ll ever get.
Mikkel Frederiksen 