"THE ONLY LIVING PICKPOCKET IN NEW YORK" - MINI-REVIEW

John Turturro picks pockets, waxes nostalgic and takes the measure of his life in this clean, classy old-school crime drama from writer/director Noah Segan (a regular in the films of Rian Johnson, who serves as producer here).  Both 70s neo-noir and Rian Johnson vibes abound in this bad-guys-and-worse-guys tale in which aging pickpocket Harry (Turturro) picks the wrong pocket of a snot-nose punk (Will Price) who happens to be “connected.“

THE ONLY LIVING PICKPOCKET IN NEW YORK has the sexy veneer of a lark in the way it’s presented (watching Turturro at work set to Gary Lionelli’s snazzy jazzy score; an opening scene of an unwitting stockbroker victim set to LCD Soundsystem’s “New York I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down’), but as a mask for more of a contemplative piece that reminded me of ABOUT SCHMIDT. You may wish that the film retained its fun side through the end, but then again, crime doesn’t pay, right? In fact, in Harry‘s case, it pays less than it ultimately takes.

Even at less than 90 minutes, the film might be a bit low-key for some, but it is blessed with beautiful style (shot elegantly by DP Sam Levy), simple but potent dialogue, and some fine supporting performances from Tatiana Maslany, and a couple of satisfying previous Turturro collaborators like Steve Buscemi (from BARTON FINK and THE BIG LEBOWSKI) as his irascible fence, and Giancarlo Esposito (from DO THE RIGHT THING) as a police detective “who knew him when.”

THE ONLY LIVING PICKPOCKET IN NEW YORK is now in theaters.

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