There are many things I miss about the Nineties. First and foremost to the discussion, there was a large number of films just shy of two hours that were entertaining throughout their length. In this context I am speaking about The Game, Panic Room, Fargo, and Out of Sight (the latter I just watched the other night). With the ballooning cost of making movies however, studios are starting to bring back the mid-budget feature again. Two have been tearing up multiplex screens for a few weeks.
Caught Stealing, the ninth feature from director Darren Aronofsky, is in theaters and has to be his most accessible to date. Most will know him from the films Black Swan and The Wrestler. After helping nab Brandon Fraser an Oscar for The Whale, he now takes on the slums of late-90s New York for a tale of Mafia bosses and double crosses complete with a punk score by Idles. And it is a hoot to watch, or as least as much as the eternally pessimistic Aronofsky can be.
We are introduced to Hank Thompson, played by a scuzzy but bright-eyed Austin Butler, right as he’s about to leave his bartending gig. As he walks home with his girlfriend (Zoe Kravitz), he runs into his neighbor Russ (an unrecognizable Matt Smith) leaving for London and wants Hank to take care of his cat. Accepting this simple favor, Hank is blindsided when Russian gangsters and a Puerto Rican strongman comes by to find out what Hank knows about his British friend and what he owes them.
This encounter results in a detective story without the sleuth, we are made aware of the various plot points as Hank has to piece together what these criminals want and how he can get that for them. Butler commands every moment on screen, which is a majority. The supporting cast augment each sequence, making this truly an ensemble work. As mainstream as this is, some people might be put off by some of the violence. Aronofsky doesn’t shy away from the more horrific elements, including a backstory for our protagonist that doled out in perfect edited nightmares that are fully revealed over the course of the film. At just over 95 minutes, it doesn’t overstay its welcome.
The Coen Brothers were another directing team that found a lane in the late 20th century. However, after the success of No Country for Old Men, the duo turned to more highbrow fare than their original recipe. Now split, Ethan Coen (along with his co-writer and wife Tricia Cooke) have been trying to recapture the brothers’ heyday. With Honey Don’t, they come rather close. Taking place in a busted town in southern California, private investigator Honey O’Donahue becomes embroiled finding whether a potential client’s death was an accident or set up. Along with her inquiry we see the dealings of a shady evangelical church run by Chris Evans’s slippery preacher. With this role, he seems hellbent on destroying any shred of his Captain America persona.
Margaret Qualley turns in a quirky yet down to earth performance as the title character, showing us why she is the actress to watch. Her idiosyncratic way of speaking reminds me of the best Coen films. This applies to the rest of cast, even people we only meet once and never again. Each interaction imbues this world with a vibrancy that has been missing in the genre of crime comedy. With stand outs like Aubrey Plaza and Charlie Day, the film offers a lot to chew on for its scant 98-minute runtime.
This, along with Drive-Away Dolls, are a part of a “lesbian B-movie trilogy” as Ethan and Tricia have put it. The first left more to be desired. This second entry shows more promise in the concept. Only be warned, raunch is the name of the game here and I am not just talking about Chris in a jockstrap for just a dialogue scene. But if none of that bothers you, check it out on VOD. Neither of these disappoint.
