Have you ever wandered through a famous art gallery and fantasized about grabbing those invaluable masterpieces off the wall and bolting out the door in broad daylight? That’s the scheme devised by Josh O’Connor’s character in *The Mastermind*. However, this isn’t the entire narrative of Kelly Reichardt’s latest project, which utilizes the art heist genre to explore the motivations behind such a decision, tracking a family man on the run amid America’s social and political upheavals.
Set in the 1970s in Massachusetts and loosely based on the notorious Worcester Art Museum heist, *The Mastermind* presents this situation with endearing authenticity, delightful humor, and an engaging soundtrack. Its strongest asset is O’Connor, whose captivating performance is both humorously deadpan and poignant.
*The Mastermind* stages a delightfully cozy crime.
With a notable change in the film’s focus, *The Mastermind* essentially unfolds in two parts: the first featuring a ridiculous art heist better suited for seasoned criminals, and the second a meandering road trip across American towns, all subtly colored by the overshadowing presence of the Vietnam War.
Regarding the heist, Reichardt retains her hallmark minimalism, avoiding the flashy style of *Ocean’s 11*. There’s no sophisticated surveillance equipment, minimal security personnel, and small-town law enforcement taking their lunch breaks. No tense safe-cracking sequences, no lasers to evade, no distractions. Instead of a varied team of experts executing “one last job,” it’s a trio of ordinary guys led by middle-class family man and unemployed carpenter JB (O’Connor). Accompanied by his stylish, composed wife Terri (Alana Haim) and their adorable young sons (Jasper and Sterling Thompson), he scouts the fictional Framingham Art Museum to pilfer four pieces by American modernist Arthur Dove.
Everything about this relatively snug crime feels gentle and distinctly autumnal, from Rob Mazurek’s soothing jazz score to costume designer Amy Roth’s selection of cozy sweaters and cardigans, to the handcrafted pillowcases Terri stitches for transporting the stolen artworks. JB utilizes paper maps to brief his accomplices and distributes beautifully illustrated flashcards of the pieces they intend to steal. Cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt captures every moment with a nostalgic, low-contrast radiance reminiscent of the classic ’70s film aesthetic of *The Holdovers*, and Anthony Gasparro’s production design portrays a crunchy-leafed suburban landscape of American modernist architecture — complete with wood paneling.
That being noted, there are some stark realities when things go awry. Quietly self-assured in his capability to execute such a bold crime with plenty of planning, JB naively relies on his jittery partners (Eli Gelb, Cole Doman, and Javion Allen), resulting in a chaotic execution that is both tense and comical to observe. Reichardt employs slapstick humor sparingly yet effectively. At times, *The Mastermind* even treads into Buster Keaton territory, particularly in one of the film’s most memorable sequences involving O’Connor’s encounter with a barn ladder and the heroic ambition of loft storage. Reader, I laughed heartily. Indeed, O’Connor’s talent for delivering a Keaton-esque expressionless stare keeps appearing throughout the film, one of the many subtle skills the *History of Sound* actor possesses.
Josh O’Connor excels in deadpan comedy in *The Mastermind.*
Although *The Mastermind* precedes the technology by a few decades, O’Connor’s JB embodies the deluded shrug guy emoticon, reassuring those around him (particularly his frustrated parents, played by Hope Davis and Bill Camp) that everything will turn out for the best. Despite the film’s title, JB is far from a criminal genius, even with a couple of Frank Abagnale Jr. moments thrown in. However, Reichardt is more invested in depicting the series of life choices JB makes in an attempt to secure financial stability for his family (and yes, a sense of personal achievement for himself).
While *The Mastermind* provides O’Connor ample material to work with, it regrettably does not extend the same generosity to his co-star, Alana Haim, whose portrayal of JB’s wife appears curiously constrained. Aside from a brief moment of bonding during the heist preparations, Terri has little to do but scowl and simmer at her clumsy husband, although Haim remarkably conveys nuance and emotion within her limited dialogue. JB literally implores his wife to “say something” and share her feelings. And while it shouldn’t always be necessary for women on screen to throw things to express their thoughts, Terri deserves more depth than being solely an alarm clock thrown offscreen.
Where *The Mastermind* truly shines is in JB’s old buddy Fred, an absolute standout of the film portrayed by John Mag.