Sky K Studios Movie Blog

Criminal

Diego Luna, from Y Tu Mamá También, is in two movies currently in the theaters. (I could probably find The Terminal still playing somewhere, too, but odds aren't good that you'd get me to see it.)

Nicotina stayed at the Vista for all of a week, which was seven days longer than it should have played such a great venue. Let this film put to rest any doubts that anyone might have about the post-Pulp Fiction genre. If Guy Ritchie didn't kill the genre with his violent, soulless bludgeoning of it, then surely Hugo Rodriguez has finished it off with this cold and humorless piece of crap. People die in this film: some randomly, some deservedly, some unfortunately, most meaninglessly. But they sure do die. Maybe I missed something, but I couldn't figure out why I should care about any of them. A movie has to be pretty damn unengaging for all that cigarette smoking not to hook me.

(Speaking of this, I keep meaning to write substantively about the post-Pulp Fiction genre-- both the good and the bad. I recently re-watched Go and remembered all the wonderful things that can be said on the genre in general and on that film in particular. Taking the time to write all this down is the hard part. Besides, I'm sure someone already has, and better.)

Criminal is also a genre pic, but this one works. Here, Luna plays a sweet, searching, young Mexican immigrant in LA. He's doing some small-time grifting when John C. Reilly takes him under his more experienced wing. Obviously, the prospect of a big score soon emerges. The 24 hours that follow unfold with a tone that you'd expect of a con film and with all the requisite plot twists -- there are zigs and zags and then back again -- that you'd expect also. The two travel the city from East LA to Beverly Hills to Venice Beach and the Biltmore, playing the game while we figure out how all the pieces fall into place; obviously we know the rules already from Mamet. While Criminal never rises to the level of Mamet's genius with characters and dialogue, the grifts are fun and -- here's the hard part with the genre -- don't overly strain credulity.

Reilly should really settle into his role as one of the best character actors of our time, and not try to stretch it, though. Having essentially built his acting character as someone lacking confidence, it's hard to see him as someone who has mastered the confidence game, and he doesn't make it easy for us to go with it: he is never fully convincing as someone totally in control of every move (Joe Mantegna in House of Games is the gold standard, to keep harping on Mamet). Luna, as the pupil, really carries it off with his untucked shirt and his disarming smile. The final twist left me a little unsatisfied, but perhaps I was just disappointed in myself for not having seen it coming. But when the ending of a con genre film isn't totally telegraphed, that alone gets it a lot of points. (I'll give a shout out here to Matchstick Men, the absolute worst recent example of the genre, on this and many other scores.)

So Luna, who was just a boy in Y Tu Mamá, has now grown into a man-- a poor man. Nicotina is a poor man's Guy Ritchie (god forbid), and Criminal is a poor man's Mamet. A thoroughly great use of 95 minutes, and if it doesn't hold up to Mamet, it's only because the bar is so high.

posted by Jon Z at 1:02 AM