Kelly Reichardt delivers a masterful ‘Mastermind’
Kelly Reichardt is among the most unsung and underappreciated filmmakers working today. I suspect that’s because her movies appear so low-key on the surface. Quiet and almost gentile in their approach, wispy in their execution, but profound in their meaning. You don’t “see” a Kelly Reichardt picture; you allow it to wash over you, penetrating your mind and taking up residence like an inescapable earworm.
She also never allows herself to be defined by genre, with each new offering more complex and distinctive than the one that precedes it. But nothing about her glorious past prepares you for the huge leap forward she takes with the ironically titled “The Mastermind.” The growth is evident from the start as she ventures far beyond her Oregonian stomping grounds to Framingham, Massachusetts, a relatively nondescript suburb just beyond the reach of Boston, the Hub of the Universe.
It’s no coincidence that geographic description also befits the status of her vanilla-flavored protagonist, James Blaine Mooney, the proverbial underachieving son of a judge who thinks of himself as too brilliant to fill any menial job. Or, any job, for that matter. It’s a role of an angst-ridden layabout that Josh O’Connor snatches and runs with, just like his James snatches four Arthur Dove paintings from the Framingham Museum of Art and runs off with them – in broad daylight. What never occurs to him is: What happens next?
Not to worry. Reichardt has the answer, one that is hilarious on the surface, but delves deep into the discombobulated soul of a man so consumed by an insatiable thirst for excitement that he thinks nothing of how his actions will affect his mousy, bread-winning wife, Terri (Alana Haim from “Licorice Pizza”), and their two tween sons, Carl and Tommy, played nicely by real-life brothers Sterling and Jasper Thompson. Not that it seems like James cares. Heck, he doesn’t even know that he’s planned the heist on the same day as a school holiday, meaning he must improvise while dealing with what to do with the kids while Daddy’s off pilfering paintings.
In many ways, that unforeseen hiccup is a microcosm for James’ entire life. He’s always of the moment, making what he believes to be well-thought-out choices in a snap. Up until now, he’s been lucky. But he’s about to run afoul of everyone from the cops to a trio of unhappy gangsters displeased with James committing crimes without consulting them first.
What ensues favorably reminded me of another 1970s-set heist flick unfolding in suburban Boston: “The Friends of Eddie Coyle.” O’Connor is no Robert Mitchum – yet – but he paints an equally compelling portrait of a guy alone and out of place in a world he no longer understands. And like Eddie Coyle, James is quickly learning that his double life is not a healthy existence, both physically and mentally.
His henchmen, Larry (Cole Doman), Guy (Eli Gelb) and Ronnie (Rhenzy Feliz), lack his resolve once the cops start nosing around. And in one of the film’s best comedic moments, James discovers just how daunting it can be to stash four paintings in a dilapidated hayloft all by yourself. On the plus side, his cabinet-making skills prove handy when the situation calls for constructing a smart-looking box to house said artworks. Why, you wonder, doesn’t James apply this gift toward more productive – and legal – benefits? James’ exasperated parents, Bill (Bill Camp) and Sarah (Hope Davis) would also like to know the answer.
Therein, I believe, is the point Reichardt endeavors to make in using James’s smugness and rash thinking as a metaphor for America’s involvement in the Vietnam War. That disastrous conflict is always lurking around the edges of James’s story, through radio reports and Walter Cronkite delivering the grim news about the fighting spilling over into Cambodia. And like Nixon, James is too stubborn to admit defeat. So, he forges on, taking his act on the lam, calling on unreceptive allies like old pals Fred (John Magaro) and Maude (Gabby Hoffman) to aid and abet.
It all contributes to creating a palpable 1970s vibe, right down to Reichardt’s style choices, from the costumes to the set decoration and the unkempt beards and haircuts. At times, I could swear I was watching something unearthed from a time capsule. That’s how authentic Reichardt renders it. But it’s the humanity at stake that sucks you in and keeps you glued.
We have no reason to pull for James. If anything, he deserves our scorn. But you empathize with his loneliness and inability to find a single kindred soul. When the shit hits the fan, he realizes he’s all alone, and not even his parents, kids, or wife is willing to throw him a rope, probably out of fear he’d hang himself with it.
Yet, we still care, largely because O’Connor is such a charismatic presence. You want to like him, just as much as you want to tell him “Don’t do it.” It’s the ideal follow-up for the actor who enraptured audiences last year as the most sympathetic member of the menage-le-tois that was the marvelous “Challengers.” As with that film, “The Mastermind” benefits from an infectious, percussive soundtrack (by Rob Mazurek) that perfectly suits the off-kilter life James has created for himself.
Where it ends is anyone’s guess, courtesy of Reichardt’s deft use of unpredictable twists and turns. Every moment feels like a revelation. But then, that’s what we’ve come to expect from an unassuming filmmaker who continues to challenge herself and us, rarely failing to meet our highest expectations. Dare I say, a mastermind?
Movie review
The Mastermind
Rated: R for some language
Cast: Josh O’Connor, Alana Haim, Hope Davis, Gabby Hoffman, Bill Camp, John Magaro and Rhenzy Feliz
Director: Kelly Reichardt
Writer: Kelly Reichardt
Runtime: 110 minutes
Where: In theaters Oct. 17 (limited)
Grade: B+
