Whether a tale of ego being stripped away or a broader pondering on nature versus nurture, The Mastermind, playing at BFI London Film Festival, quietly rivets and entertains. JB may not be what he thinks he is, but Kelly Reichardt is a mastermind of her own craft.
Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind begins in a manner synonymous with many heist films. We see a quiet man, identified later as James Blaine (JB) Mooney (Josh O’Connor), wandering slowly around an art museum. As his wife Terri (Alana Haim) and two sons enthusiastically engage with the colourful portraits, JB slowly breaks into and steals a tiny museum exhibit. There’s a methodicalness to his actions that suggests he’s in complete control of the situation, the air thick with tension as he discreetly breaks the law.
Yet, Reichardt, an auteur known as much for her subversions as for her neo-realist minimalism, is not making yet another heist film. JB is actually doing a practice run for a grander job. After hiring a couple of small-time crooks, JB makes his plans known: he intends to steal four valuable paintings from the museum, using the money he makes from the heist to seemingly pay back debts he owes his parents. It’s a plan so bare-boned it borders on vague, but JB remains confident. Thus, when the plan goes awry, JB struggles to conceal the truth from his unaware family and evade the authorities.
Heist films are among the most enjoyable thrillers, as they often present complex moral ambiguities and riveting action sequences, benefiting from the mischievous yet entertaining touch of rebellion that their stories can contain. Famously, Jules Dassin’s 1955 classic Rififi was so detailed in its portrayal of an intricate heist scene that authorities feared it was an instruction manual for would-be criminals. It’s an inherently exciting format for a story, as it gives us a glimpse into the minds of people who would carry out such actions, usually exploring individual mentalities or the broader microcosm of socioeconomic hardships.
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To an extent, The Mastermind follows suit. JB appears to be an art enthusiast from a middle-class background, given that his father is a respected judge; yet, at some point, he has accumulated enough debt that finances are a concern. However, his specific motivations for what he’s doing remain fairly ambiguous, except for discussions about money and an accusation that he is trying to impress a former art teacher of his. Instead, the film portrays JB’s actions with a flat objectiveness, in keeping with Reichardt’s minimalist style. Visuals are typically framed in mid or long shots, with close-ups reserved for more cramped scenes and situations, giving the audience a degree of disconnect from JB as his plans crumble beneath him.
One can read this as a nature versus nurture storyline, in which JB can’t help but get himself into trouble, and there is some credence to that reading. But, given the confidence in his plans and the wild improvisations he has to make when things don’t go to plan, this critic perceives The Mastermind as a mockery of egotism despite one’s mediocrity. Where Reichardt’s previous film, the excellent First Cow, told a tragic tale, made poignant by the presence of a tight, earnest male friendship, The Mastermind is a cautionary warning about the fallacies of male ego. The title is a deliberately ironic one: JB is just arrogant enough to assume that he is a mastermind; that his plan is the foolproof one of unique intricacy we see in the best heist films, but, in reality, when the chips are down, he’s an amateur grasping at straws.
This generates considerable intensity, despite the seeming disconnect, as our investment stems from our curiosity about how long JB will evade forces or keep his secrets before he’s eventually caught. This is not dissimilar to other heist films, but where we often empathise with even the most notorious criminals in those pictures, here we almost pity JB as he stubbornly clings to his ways despite how much hot water they’ve landed him in.
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Josh O’Connor embraces Reichardt’s singular direction to great effect, his casual smiles and borderline robotic assurances that all is okay feeling out of touch with reality, yet still possessing the actor’s signature charm. Between this and the equally engrossing Wake Up Dead Man, O’Connor has been having a banner year in 2025. Opposite him is another great turn from Alana Haim, whose role as JB’s put-upon and much more self-aware wife makes her a voice of consistent reason that JB benignly but continually ignores.
A jazzy score by Rob Mazurek, which proudly champions the core improvisation of the best jazz music, reflects the excitement but ultimate futility of JB’s actions and character arc. Christopher Blauvelt’s cinematography complements Reichardt’s direction, affording us the broader perspectives that JB either can’t see or refuses to see. Even the abruptness of the ending highlights the film’s themes on male ego and how it’s doomed to fail, especially when one’s self-perceived genius is unfounded. JB relishes being seemingly one step ahead of the police, but if he is caught, whether by chance or through being outsmarted, he will be forgotten about as quickly as he was gossiped about. In keeping the audience at arm’s length, so that we can see how in vain JB’s efforts are, the film becomes almost as tragically farcical as it is deceptively thrilling.
Some audiences may take issue with this film’s flat emotion and slower pace, and not unjustifiably. But this critic really dug what The Mastermind was selling. Benefitting from Reichardt’s trademark minimalism, the film slowly but surely grips us with its methodical direction and sardonic portrayal of an amateur believing himself to be a mastermind. Whether a tale of ego being stripped away or a broader pondering on nature versus nurture, the film quietly rivets and entertains. JB may not be what he thinks he is, but Kelly Reichardt is a mastermind of her own craft.
The Mastermind is showing in cinemas nationwide from October 24.
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