Review of Heist (2001) by Tyree G — 19 Sep 2011

It's funny to think that by 2001, no one had yet named a film simply "Heist" (okay, there's a forgotten one from 1998, but prior to that, shockingly, none, with a few possible translated exceptions). I suppose it's kind of a post-modern title--forget being poetic or unusual or unique, just go minimalist and directly descriptive, and be relatively original (the first few times at least) by ignoring all those expectations and methods of naming. In that sense, then, it makes sense as a film released in 2001. Of course, heist movies are far older than that--Kubrick's 1956 The Killing and Ocean's 11 in 1960 off the top of my head--but they are a reliable source of entertainment for those who like them, and are generally fun for their cleverness, so long as they succeed at intentions.

One of few heist films that start from a heist instead of building to a brand new one, Joe Moore (Gene Hackman), Bobby Blane (Delroy Lindo), Don "Pinky" Pincus (Ricky Jay) and Fran Moore(Rebecca Pidgeon) are not new to thieving, nor to teaming up with each other. In the middle of a jewelry heist, the aging Joe's face is caught on camera when a few steps go off plan. Joe decides this is the end for him, but Mickey Bergman (Danny Devito), who fences most of their loot, disagrees and insists that, before paying the group, they carry out one last heist: Swiss gold being brought in by airplane. Joe is against it and refuses and argues, but relents, and finds himself stuck with Mickey's rather green nephew Jimmy Silk (Sam Rockwell). Friction is generated between the two as Jimmy and his uncle believe Joe is off his game and Jimmy begins to pursue Joe's wife--fellow thief Fran.

I was reluctant to pick up this movie, on the fence because of the solid cast but familiar plot, until I noticed who wrote and directed: David Mamet. If you like Mamet's work (and you should, really), that's enough there, and when it's combined with something that is usually passably entertaining like a heist film and you're pretty well guaranteed good stuff. He keeps dialogue and plotting kinetic and exciting in whatever he does, and even when he doesn't keep you guessing, he fulfills expectations in the most satisfying ways. Mamet films are absolute pleasure, hitting the perfect balance of skill or talent and entertainment. For those who believe in such things, there is no need to bring up guilt with your pleasure, nor is there a need to worry that it will talk over you or just completely leave you in the dust. Your brain is engaged without being overwhelmed, and your appreciation and enjoyment are both satisfied. Your sympathies are put in the right places without the feeling of outright manipulation, as the characters pop and crackle with Mamet's most famous asset--witty dialogue--and become real enough, or at least strong enough projections, to carry all of their actions easily into the realms of believability. This speed and craft is most evident in a film based on deception and confidence games, as the characters slide from internal and real conversations with each other to blatant manipulation of external characters with barely a notice. And then in the third act, you realize that the internal dialogue wasn't always real either, and these characters are all constantly plotting, preparing and being in place for everyone and everything around them.

This is a potent and enjoyable example of heist films that outshines its fellows and manages to feel fresh and interesting and exciting despite coming so late to the party in a very specific genre, without having to resort to redesigning the concept of a heist film. And in many senses, it also manages to be exactly what its' title purports: a perfect crystallization of what heist films are defined as and should aspire to be.