‘The Mastermind’ Review: Josh O’Connor is Caught Stealing in Kelly Reichardt’s Vietnam Era Portrait of an Art Thief [A-] Cannes
Early in Kelly Reichardt’s new anti-heist film, The Mastermind, J.B. Mooney (Josh O’Connor) stops in front of a security guard on his way out of the Framingham Museum of Art to tie his shoe. His wife Terri (Alana Haim proving she’s perfect for another 70s-set project after Licorice Pizza) and their two sons, Carl and Tommy (fraternal twins, Sterling and Jasper Thompson), are already outside and on their way to the car, but Reichardt keeps her camera in the lobby with J.B.. He’s just swiped a small wooden figurine from a glass case inside, and like all thieves, he seems to be flirting with the idea of getting caught. Reichardt is teasing us here, too, with Rob Mazurek’s jazzy score and the 1970s-inspired vertical title cards suggesting that mischief will follow. The sleepy guard doesn’t even look his way, though, and J.B. is off into the crisp Massachusetts autumn air (a pivot from Reichardt’s Pacific Northwest mainstay). The Mastermind isn’t a classic heist film, though. It’s quintessential Reichardt, beginning as a quietly comedic and subversive genre exercise before unfolding into a slice-of-life character study of an ordinary man unwittingly living through an extraordinary time.
While J.B. wanders through the museum’s galleries, Terri sits on a bench nearby, Tommy reads his comic book, and Carl rattles off the types of facts that could only exist in the brain of a little boy–all tell-tale signs that boredom has kicked in and it’s time to go home. J.B., a former art history student, isn’t just interested in perusing the contemporary art, though. He’s specifically fixated on a series of paintings by radical modernist Arthur Dove, and he wants to plan a small-scale heist to steal them. Why exactly? Reichardt doesn’t make that clear at first, and, as J.B.’s father Bill (Bill Camp) hilariously states later, “I’m not convinced these abstract paintings were worth the trouble.” Unlike typical flourishes found in heist movies, J.B.’s plan is comically pathetic. There isn’t a grand set piece where the players walk through a sophisticated, strategic playbook before they drive off in their evening wear to execute the mission. Instead, J.B. and the two hired robbers, Guy (Eli Gelb) and Larry (Cole Doman), gather in the Mooney’s wood-paneled basement while Terri makes dinner for their family and her in-laws upstairs. J.B. gives each of them an egg-shaped box of L’eggs pantyhose (a perfect ‘70s comedic moment) to cover their faces and begins to lay out the plan. He’s not involved in the robbery, of course, he’s just going to give them the money for the paintings, which he totally has. The heist he has in mind is a pretty risky and convoluted one: they need to steal a getaway car, wear those stockings to hide their identities, and recruit the notoriously unpredictable Ronnie (Javion Allen) to help them pull off the job.
J.B. isn’t equipped to handle any of this, and that’s made even more apparent when he meets with his mom, Sarah (Hope Davis), to borrow money. He’s a carpenter and has been unemployed for a bit now, but he promises her that a new opportunity to work with an architect is on the horizon. Of course, Sarah’s money is going straight to the hired thieves. To make matters worse for him, Carl and Tommy’s school is surprisingly closed on the planned day of the robbery, and now, with Terri at work, he dumps the boys at the bowling alley with some cash and the order not to eat too much. What’s clever about the robbery taking place during the daytime is that it not only highlights the shoddy nature of J.B.’s plan, but it also allows Reichardt to juxtapose the scene’s action with the sleepiness of the film’s idyllic setting, brought to life by Christopher Blauvelt’s grainy, gorgeous cinematography (his sixth collaboration with Reichardt). It’s a quiet suburb where nothing happens, the sounds of the Vietnam War thousands of miles away. With luck firmly not on J.B.’s side, his messy plan has consequences, and soon the local police are at his home after Ronnie ratted him out. The only (very telling) piece of information J.B. shares with them is that his father is the local judge; he can surely clear all of this up.
O’Connor’s portrayal of J.B., with his rumpled hangdog look and pie crust promises, effortlessly fits into the modern Reichardt oeuvre and feels perfectly in place with the film’s 1970s setting. He’s the most versatile actor of his generation, simply for the myriad ways he conjures up sympathy for complex men with a mean streak or a complicated past (The Crown, Challengers, La Chimera, and now, The Mastermind). As J.B., he evokes a classic antihero of the independent films of the ‘70s New Hollywood with ease. As he runs around in his boxers one minute and is clad in corduroys and wrinkled, patterned button-downs the next, he feels like the second coming of Elliott Gould. In one of the film’s funniest scenes (and one of Reichardt’s best long takes), J.B. flees to a barn to hide the paintings, only to have to figure out how to carry a large box up a ladder on his own. It’s one of the innovative, sneaky ways that Reichardt plays with genre convention and the pratfalls of her leading man. O’Connor also makes it incredibly easy to feel a little bit sorry for this hapless man, even in scenes where he has no dialogue. Before bringing the art to its hiding place, he takes one of Dove’s paintings and quietly hangs it up in his living room to admire it. Without yet knowing much about J.B.’s connection to these paintings, the way O’Connor stops and looks at the painting on the wall provides a deeper understanding of how he feels about his current situation. When seemingly at the end of his rope, he calls Terri to ask her to wire him some money. Even though Haim is underused in the film, she and O’Connor play off each other incredibly well here, as the camera focuses on J.B. and his quiet desperation amidst Terri’s apathy.
The Mastermind feels like a classic American short story, where the author can revisit the themes present in her past work, while using a specific genre to mine new, rich material. A traditional heist movie builds to the action, but this is a film that only Reichardt could make, with the narrative quickly evolving to focus on how J.B.’s world changes in the immediate aftermath of the operation. While it feels closest in genre to her 2013 thriller Night Moves, the character study feels much more internal and observational, concerned specifically with the political ideology of the time and how the antihero fits into the film’s specific milieu. It’s also reminiscent of Reichardt’s earlier work, containing the same type of quiet, hypnotic power as First Cow, the genre revisionism of Meek’s Cutoff, and the exploration of the hold that art can have on an individual who just isn’t satisfied in Showing Up. The film’s most potent theme, though, is found in Reichardt’s knack for depicting lonely people living on the margins of society (Certain Women, Old Joy), as she carefully observes their economic and ethical stressors. This is best illustrated when J.B. stops to stay with Fred (John Magaro) and Maude (Gaby Hoffmann), two people from his past who give us clues as to why he may have stolen the Arthur Dove paintings. Fred is a bit more sympathetic to his situation, suggesting he flee to Canada. “Draft dodgers, radical feminists, and dope fiends…nice people,” Fred tells J.B., highlighting the subtle political commentary of the war that J.B. and the film have been lightly dancing around until Reichardt decides that it’s time for him to have his wake-up call.
What’s striking about Reichardt’s depiction of the Vietnam War and the protests in The Mastermind is that, at first, it feels relegated to the sidelines, captured simply in television and radio newsreels or headlines in the newspaper. J.B. seems to hear the country’s events in the background like a dull hum that he and the audience can just tune out if they wish. That’s all purposeful and reflective of J.B.’s attitude and place in the world. As the film’s slow burn continues to flicker, the current events begin to collide with J.B. as the news of the war and his wanted ad occupy the same newspaper real estate, and Reichardt’s perfectly timed final shot hits with a punch (the 1970 arthouse classic, The Conformist, came to mind). Just as J.B. robs the museum of a portion of their contemporary art collection, Reichardt executes a perfect heist of her own, robbing J.B. of the ending he wanted and one the audience may have expected. That’s an American mastermind.
Grade: A-
This review is from the 2025 Cannes Film Festival where The Mastermind premiered In Competition. MUBI will release the film theatrically in the U.S.
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