Josh O’Connor stars in The Mastermind, a film set in 1970s Massachusetts that revolves around a modest art heist inspired by the infamous Worcester Art Museum robbery. The movie explores the life of a family man driven to steal valuable artworks amid social unrest and political turmoil in America, weaving the art heist theme with deeper emotional and societal layers.
The film follows O’Connor’s character, JB, an unemployed carpenter and father, as he schemes to pilfer four pieces by American modernist Arthur Dove. The story unfolds gently, focusing less on the thrill of the theft and more on the motivations and personal consequences faced by JB and those close to him during a turbulent period shaped by the Vietnam War.
The Dual Narratives of a Botched Crime and a Nation in Flux
The Mastermind is structured in two distinct parts: the first depicts a somewhat clumsy but endearing art theft, while the second turns into a reflective road trip across changing American towns. Director Kelly Reichardt embraces a restrained style, steering clear of flashy heist tropes in favor of a more authentic portrayal. Surveillance technology is absent, security is lax, and law enforcement is presented as distracted, all contributing to a low-key atmosphere throughout the crime.
JB leads a small team, including his wife Terri (Alana Haim) and a handful of acquaintances (Eli Gelb, Cole Doman, Javion Allen), to carry out the theft at the fictional Framingham Art Museum. Their preparations involve simple, hands-on tools like paper maps and hand-drawn flashcards, emphasizing the ordinariness of their scheme. The film’s visual tone, with its warm, soft focus cinematography and autumnal color palette, enriches this cozy yet fragile vibe.
Despite careful planning, the plan goes awry due to the unreliability of JB’s accomplices, mixing moments of anxiety with understated humor. Reichardt uses slapstick sparingly but to great effect, with one memorable scene featuring O’Connor’s character comically struggling with a barn ladder showcasing his impeccable deadpan timing reminiscent of Buster Keaton. This deadpan style becomes a hallmark of O’Connor’s portrayal throughout the film.
Josh O’Connor’s Mastery of Deadpan Brings Depth to JB
O’Connor’s JB embodies the archetype of a beleaguered everyman, adopting an almost resigned attitude toward the chaotic consequences of his actions. His character’s determination to provide for his family is portrayed with both pathos and subtle humor, far from the slick criminal typically depicted in heist narratives. The film sidesteps glamorizing JB as a mastermind, instead focusing on his flawed humanity and wishful thinking.
In contrast, Alana Haim’s role as Terri feels constrained, primarily reacting to JB’s missteps and offering limited character development. Despite this, Haim manages to convey unspoken tension and emotion in her minimalist performance. At one point, JB implores her to express her feelings aloud, reflecting the film’s quiet exploration of strained relationships without dramatic outbursts or confrontations.
John Magaro shines as Fred, JB’s old friend, injecting warmth and enthusiasm into the narrative. His joyful reactions to JB’s escapades balance the film’s more somber elements, especially when contrasted with the cool disdain of Fred’s partner Maude, played by Gaby Hoffmann. The dynamic among these three characters remains partly ambiguous, inviting viewers to read between the lines and engage more deeply with their interpersonal undercurrents.
Subtle Historical Context Enhances the Film’s Mood
Kelly Reichardt’s storytelling resists neat resolutions or heavy-handed historical exposition. Instead, political and social unrest in the 1970s United States seeps into the narrative through subtle but pointed references. The omnipresence of the Vietnam War shapes the backdrop, visible in news broadcasts, protest scenes, and overheard conversations.
The film’s road trip portion highlights Jill’s observation of the era’s cultural shifts, including a naval officer departing on a Greyhound bus and passionate clashes between student activists and older nationalists. A discussion between JB and Fred touches on Canadian communes housing
“draft dodgers, radical feminists, dope fiends — nice people,”
capturing the uneasy social fabric of the time.
“draft dodgers, radical feminists, dope fiends — nice people.”
— JB and Fred, conversation in The Mastermind
These elements weave seamlessly into the story, enhancing The Mastermind’s unique blend of quiet humor, social commentary, and genre elements. The film captures a moment of personal and national struggle without resorting to clichés or overt moralizing.
The Distinctive Appeal of The Mastermind and O’Connor’s Performance
What sets The Mastermind apart from typical heist films is its focus on realism and subtle character study rather than action and spectacle. The understated autumn setting, detailed production design, and Rob Mazurek’s mellow jazz score all contribute to an intimate and reflective atmosphere. O’Connor’s magnetic presence, combining deadpan comedy with heartfelt emotion, anchors the film.
The film’s release is highly anticipated following screenings at the New York Film Festival and the BFI London Film Festival. It opens in cinemas on October 17, offering audiences a contemplative take on crime, family, and historical upheaval, filtered through the lens of both tragedy and dry wit.
