Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind: A Subversive Take on the Heist Genre

Kelly Reichardt, known for her distinctive approach to independent cinema, has once again delivered a film that places character above spectacle. Her latest work, The Mastermind, is set against the backdrop of 1970s America and offers a wry, measured exploration of a man’s ill-conceived attempt at robbery. Rather than focusing on elaborate schemes or high-octane chases, Reichardt’s narrative is a study in personal transformation, using the trappings of a heist as a vehicle for something far more introspective.

Josh O’Connor takes on the role of James Mooney, a man whose privileged upbringing has left him with an inflated sense of self-worth and little to show for it. His in-laws view him as a disappointment, and even his patient wife, played by Alana Haim, is beginning to lose faith in his ability to provide. In a bid to resolve his mounting frustrations, James hatches a plan to rob a local art museum, enlisting a handful of equally hapless accomplices. The planning and execution of the theft are rendered with a light comedic touch, bordering on farce; the group’s efforts are so riddled with errors that the only thing more inept than their scheme is the museum’s own security.

Period Detail and Subtle Satire

The film’s setting is meticulously crafted, with Reichardt and cinematographer Christopher Blauvet recreating the look and feel of early 1970s America. The era’s music, fashion, and even its cinematic style are woven into the fabric of the story, providing a vivid sense of time and place. Reichardt herself remarked,

“There is a lot going on. The Weather Underground is kicking it off, the Vietnam War is moving into Cambodia, there is a shooting at Kent State. It’s a volatile time.”

These historical events serve as a muted backdrop, largely unnoticed by James, whose self-absorption blinds him to the world’s turbulence—much as he overlooks the more pressing issues in his own life.

The director’s subtle use of colour and tone shapes the mood of each scene, shifting from slightly exaggerated to oppressively sombre as the story demands. This careful attention to atmosphere underscores the film’s understated wit and its gentle lampooning of both its protagonist and the conventions of the genre.

Character Study and Social Commentary

O’Connor’s performance is central to the film’s impact. He captures the charm and entitlement of a man accustomed to relying on others, as well as the dawning realisation that he is woefully unprepared for the consequences of his actions. As James’s situation unravels, he is forced to navigate a society in flux, encountering a range of individuals whose lives and perspectives differ sharply from his own. These encounters, while often comic, also highlight the limitations of James’s worldview and the broader social changes of the period.

The supporting cast, including Haim as James’s increasingly exasperated wife, provide a counterpoint to his obliviousness. Their interactions reveal the shifting dynamics of family and society, as well as the personal costs of James’s misguided adventure. The film’s final act brings these threads together in a conclusion that is both ironic and oddly fitting, as James is swept along by forces he barely comprehends.

Visual Style and Thematic Depth

Reichardt’s collaboration with Blauvet results in a visual style that oscillates between the slightly cartoonish and the starkly bleak, mirroring the protagonist’s journey. The director’s decision to edit the film herself ensures a cohesive vision, with each scene carefully calibrated to evoke a particular mood. The use of period-appropriate aesthetics is not merely decorative; it reinforces the film’s themes of disillusionment and uncertainty, echoing the national mood of the era.

Throughout, The Mastermind resists the conventions of the heist genre, offering instead a quietly subversive meditation on failure, self-delusion, and the search for meaning in a world that is itself in transition. Reichardt’s film is less concerned with the mechanics of crime than with the inner workings of its central character, making for a viewing experience that is as thoughtful as it is quietly amusing.