‘The Mastermind’ review: Kelly Reichardt’s sombre slice of 1970s Americana stars Josh O’Connor

Dir/scr: Kelly Reichardt US. 2025. 110mins

Kelly Reichardt typically tackles genres from indirect angles, subverting their most recognisable tropes to make one thing private and deeply felt. Such is the case with The Mastermind, ostensibly a heist movie that dispenses with the legal exercise early on in order that the author/director/editor can as an alternative inform an elegiac story about an bizarre screw-up. Josh O’Connor is marvelous as this sputtering soul with no aptitude for illegality — or, frankly, anything — as he drifts by means of an unremarkable life that’s slowly slipping by means of his fingers.

Connects to one thing bigger about an America dropping its approach

That is Reichardt’s second straight image to premiere in Cannes Competitors following 2022’s Exhibiting Up. O’Connor’s transferring flip will appeal to essentially the most consideration, and followers of the idiosyncratic filmmaker will certainly even be intrigued, though bigger crossover business success could also be unlikely for this gently melancholic work.

In 1970, out-of-work carpenter J.B. (O’Connor) lives together with his spouse Terri (Alana Haim) and their two younger sons (fraternal twins Sterling and Jasper Thompson) in Massachusetts. As the image begins, we see J.B. rigorously casing an area artwork museum, which he plans to rob with some associates. (Rob Mazurek’s jazzy, percussive rating prepares us for the large heist.) However though J.B. walks away with 4 Arthur Dove work, his plan backfires and he’s compelled to go on the run.

Not solely is The Mastermind set in 1970, however the movie very a lot appears like a product of that period, reflecting the unconventional narratives of New Hollywood that had been populated by offbeat antiheroes. It turns into a operating joke in Reichardt’s screenplay that others level out J.B’s lack of planning, and we rapidly uncover that the character’s defining attribute is how ill-prepared he’s for a lot of life. Even earlier than this bungled heist, he has lengthy been a failure — particularly within the eyes of his revered father (Invoice Camp), an area choose — and his quirky, unintentional odyssey won’t encourage him to succeed in larger heights inside himself.

Reichardt’s final pseudo-heist, 2013’s eco-thriller Evening Strikes, additionally concentrated a lot of its runtime on the crime’s after-effects, however right here the suspense is way extra existential. The Mastermind is hardly plotty, and but the episodic misadventures that befall J.B. as he improvises his escape are so well-observed that it’s greatest to know as little as potential entering into.

Suffice it to say that, with nice subtlety, Reichardt weaves in societal parts of the time — particularly, information in regards to the disastrous ongoing Vietnam Conflict — in order that J.B.’s meagre journey connects to one thing bigger about an America dropping its approach. Cinematographer Christopher Blauvelt captures fading suburbias, beat-up buses and cloudy skies, all of which assure this era drama betrays not an oz. of nostalgia. In truth, one might argue that The Mastermind is sort of well timed, additionally talking to America’s present political turmoil.

There are beautiful low-key performances from Haim, Camp and John Magaro as J.B.’s outdated pal, however the image belongs to O’Connor, whose silences convey all of J.B.’s unexpressed disappointments. As a result of the character is so stoic — so determined to seem as if he has all the pieces beneath management — it takes a couple of reels to recognise simply how misplaced he’s. O’Connor performs him just like the quintessential American dreamer, besides with out the abilities or fortitude to make these goals actuality. Tellingly, Mazurek’s rating grows extra sombre as J.B.’s prospects grow to be dimmer.

As soon as the heist implodes, in surprising and generally surprisingly humorous methods, J.B. is usually alone on display screen, which provides O’Connor the house to articulate the enormity of the person’s despair and inadequacy. Some could not know whether or not to chuckle or cry at J.B.’s predicament, which he has introduced upon himself, and Reichardt by no means suggestions her hand relating to her personal emotions on the matter. Even the abrupt, cosmically ironic last scene leaves room for interpretation about the place J.B. goes from right here.