The Mastermind movie review: Josh O’Connor in low-key art heist caper

The timing is quite fortuitous for the release of The Mastermind.

With the daring, made-for-cinema heist of royal jewels from the Louvre earlier this week, everyone is a little bit obsessed with master thieves.

We’re all rewatching Lupin, The Thomas Crown Affair or Ocean’s 8, 11, 12 and 13. As an aside, can highly recommend Bart Layton’s 2018 caper American Animals. There’s just so much delight in witnessing clever schemes unfold, especially when something is held back from the audience until the very end.

But what if the thief was not so smart? What if the heist was not from one of the most famous or secure institutions in the world but a small regional art gallery?

Trust beloved American indie filmmaker Kelly Reichardt to make an unconventional heist film that is the opposite of what you’d expect from the genre, and trust British actor Josh O’Connor, fast becoming one of the most interesting thespians of his generation, to play the thief at the centre of this story.

The combination of the two makes this film an intriguing proposition, although The Mastermind will not be for everyone. It unfolds quite leisurely, a hallmark of Reichardt whose pacing is always deliberate and contemplative, challenging viewers to sit in a moment.

Loosely inspired by the real-life 1972 robbery of a Massachusetts museum, The Mastermind revels in being understated. Its protagonist, JB (O’Connor), is certainly that, someone you wouldn’t look twice at.

JB is the unemployed carpenter who hatches a plan to steal four paintings by American modernist abstract artist Arthur Dove from a local art gallery. Using money he borrowed from his mother, he hires some local criminals, but one backs out on the day, and JB finds himself driving the getaway car.

Reichardt gingerly balances the actual heist between low and high stakes, comical farce and thrills. It’s definitely not Steven Soderbergh slick, and it’s quite unlike much else you’ve seen in this genre.

The theft happens about a third of the way through the film with the rest of story given to the aftermath as JB hides the booty, fends off a police search and then ultimately flees.

So much of what follows happens with minimal dialogue, O’Connor’s performance is in the discomfort expressed by his body as the character increasingly becomes nervy. If you key into the vibe, it’s entrancing, watching this man not-quite-bumble but certainly improvise his every move.

He is definitely not his wife Terri’s (Alana Haim) favourite person, while a visit to old friends (John Magaro and Gaby Hoffman) from university doesn’t go to plan. Some time spent in Cincinnati has unexpected consequences.

Reichardt breaks up the quiet with humour, mostly using physical comedy, which she films from wide angles so that you can take in the whole scenario. It saves the Mastermind from being too slow. While its muted aesthetic evokes the movie’s 1970s setting.

The Mastermind doesn’t hit the highs of her previous work, including Meek’s Cutoff, First Cow or Certain Women, but like those stories, it’s a character-driven film that focuses on the beats of its outsider protagonist.

O’Connor’s JB is no sleek hero or criminal mastermind, and he would never attempt a heist at the Louvre. He’s just a guy, and that’s why he’s weirdly endearing.

Rating: 3/5

The Mastermind is in cinemas