Taken from Eric Garcia’s novel of the same name and caliber, this unlikely Ridley Scott film is a straightforward adaptation of a rather serene novel. It is as much a story about family as it is about psychological condition as it is about the con game.
Cage stars as a successful con man whose tics and obsessive tendencies are as much a benefit to his game as they are a detriment; they ensure his precise and careful construction while at other moments almost blow the take. Scott takes every opportunity to subject the audience to the characters point of view, a technique that years ago bothered my viewing but today are rather tame. The jump cuts, blurred vision, intensified sound and color lend themselves appropriately to the subjective experimentation that filmmakers have been exploring since the birth of the medium. The film’s only glaring detriment is its low potential for a rewatch. It has been years since I last saw it and months since I read the book, but knowing the precise narrative end ruins its surprise. And it doesn’t, as it probably should, force one to reevaluate every scene and look for clues; the ones that exist are obvious when seen in the right context.
Given personal affection for caper films, it is unfortunate that this one is so forgettable. There is a sharp and crisp visual style that plays well for the story, yet with its conclusion there is not much to dwell on; everything has been patched and lives are in order. I’ll blame Hollywood for the just heck of it.
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