The Mastermind begins with a crime in motion. James Mooney (Josh O’Connor) is casing out his local art gallery in 70s Massachusetts, painstakingly checking the objects of his desire with another eye on the sleeping guard nearby. 

A lustrous jazz score ascends and weaves throughout as James palms a figurine with little effort, despite the presence of other gallery attendees nearby. Except, it turns out that these other people are actually his wife and two kids, seemingly unaware of what’s transpired. 

Escaping with his family and freedom still intact, James forges ahead with his plan to steal four paintings by the Modernist American artist Arthur Dove. Two tough guys and a getaway driver are enlisted, but a last-minute problem throws James in the deep end, forcing him to wait in the car himself while his henchmen carry out the heist inside.  

The robbery doesn’t quite go to plan when the two men are caught red-handed, not by security, but by a young girl who spots the suspicious looking nylon stockings they’re wearing over their heads from a mile off. Further complications threaten to derail the heist completely, but somehow, they get away with it still. And that’s just the first act.

Sounds thrilling, right? Actually, it’s not, but that’s the whole point. 

As intriguing as the heist is, shot fastidiously by director Kelly Reichardt, it’s the aftermath of this crime that she’s far more interested in. In that sense, The Mastermind is a heist movie that’s almost unrecognisable as such. If anything, it’s more of an “anti-heist” film, as Variety put it so brilliantly, deconstructing this genre like Reichardt has done with so many others in previous films such as Meek’s Cutoff and Night Moves.

It’s almost funny just quite how inept James turns out to be, not just in the early stages of planning but further and further down the line as his life unravels in the days that follow the crime. It’s here that the rhythms of the genre are abandoned completely, transforming The Mastermind into a character study of a person who’s anything but. 

Shot with muted earthy tones, Reichardt’s latest moves along at an unhurried pace, gradually transforming like the autumnal hues in each tree that lines James’s suburban neighbourhood, the one that he’s forced to leave behind. If you’re not wearing a comfy jumper while watching this film, you’re doing it wrong.

Everything in The Mastermind is distinctly normal, and Reichardt revels in the mundanity of that. From the vintage car boot handle opened to stash those paintings to the rumpled sweater/underwear combo James wears as he waves his family off to school, this feels like a lost 70s film akin to The Holdovers that was released earlier this year. 

There’s humour to be found in the banal too, most notably when James struggles to stash the paintings away in a remote hayloft while a pig snorts and snuffles in the background. He’d be pitiful if not for the fact that he brought so much of this on himself, often at the expense of his own family. “Everything I’ve done is for you and the kids,” James claims to his wife before adding: “And me.”

There is some charm to him, which might explain how James got away with convincing people to side with him for as long as he has. Josh O’Connor nails that limited hangdog charm, even when his outsized ambitions are painfully out of reach, matched only by the absurd amount of belief he retains in himself. It’s in his puppy-dog eyes which look to others for help, and it’s in the wry smile that forms when he thinks he’s actually getting away with it.  

Alana Haim’s wife Terri is stoic in her resistance to James’ foolery, saying a lot with her eyes too (especially when the script fails to give her as much to do as she deserves). Other standouts include James’ old buddy Fred (First Cow’s John Magaro) who’s thrilled to hear what his friend has been up to and Fred’s wife Maude (Gaby Hoffmann) who’s anything but thrilled when James suddenly shows up at their door.

With each stop James makes on this increasingly downbeat road trip through the midwest, the wider context of what it means to live in Nixon’s America begins to seep in until reality becomes impossible to ignore. This all builds to a cosmically cruel yet just end that arrives just as it feels like the script has begun spinning its wheels a bit too much, ending the film on a darkly satisfying note. 

However, it’s not until you’ve sat with the story for a while that its true impact can be felt. Like much of Reichardt’s work, the intimate scale of her first solo writing credit takes time to settle, even if it’s obvious early on who the real mastermind is in all this.   

Should you watch The Mastermind?

If you’re expecting a heist with all the thrills and grandeur of something like Ocean’s 11, then The Mastermind is not for you. That is, unless you’re interested in a different spin on the genre, one that flips all the Hollywood gloss into a far more intimate endeavour.

Either way, don’t let anyone con you into skipping this one, especially in cinemas. Grab a knitted jumper, a latte of the pumpkin spice variety, and sink into a comfy seat for a slow-burning autumnal treat that features one of Josh O’Connor’s best performances to date. 

The Mastermind is airing at the London Film Festival now, and releases in cinemas on 17 October 2025 in the US, and on 24 October 2025 in the UK. American readers can buy tickets from AMC Theatres, Fandango and Atom Tickets. Those in the UK can get them from Picturehouse and Curzon.

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