by MARK SCHUMANN
Father of Three
Sometimes a movie is so disappointing that all you can imagine is what must have happened on the set each day. How did the actors react to such dialogue? How did the director imagine such a collection of clichés? Who agreed to put up the money for the production? And did they ever really think someone would want to see it?
How to Rob a Bank is a weak enough independent film to give all independent films a bad name. This most savored niche of the movie industry, usually reserved for the highest of creative expression, is mysteriously invaded by this parody of Hollywood caper films. That a filmmaker would want to explore the genre is no surprise — think back to
Sneakers and
Die Hard — but an effort so poorly developed is very disappointing. Marketing this piece of useless fluff as an independent cinema creation is misleading; this one deserves to land on pay-per-view in a flash.
The slim plot (of an 81-minute film) seems to borrow from the magical Dog Day Afternoon with a young bystander innocently caught in a bank vault following a botched bank robbery. He is a man of standard movie attitude, with lots of smart remarks about ATM fees, corporate greed, and lost innocence. That the hero is played by the usually commanding Nick Stahl (from In the Bedroom) only makes things worse. This actor conveys too much authenticity to pull off the con-man-in-training attitude that the character (as it is) demands. Stahl merely delivers a collection of remarks and mannerisms. This is not a performance.
Whatever Stahl would have tried to do with the role is undermined by everything that happens around him. There is not a plot as much as a collection of sketches tied together by what looks like last-minute character generation to set up the scenes. We hear an endless collection of cell phone conversations (supporting my theory that the crime movie has never been the same since the invention of the cell phone and the computer) frequently interspersed with fast-moving visuals of all the police action happening outside the bank. The whole thing is packaged in a world of would-be cool complete with the generic music track that seems lifted from a contemporary hotel lobby.
So, when the film was in production, what must have happened on the set? Did writer/director Andrew Jenkins have a script in hand or did he make it up on the fly? How did a serious actor like Stahl react when handed the words to read or did he improvise his way through the scenes? Did the film intend to be a serious look at a crime gone wrong? And is the tongue-in-cheek veneer a result of creative miscalculation rather than purposeful direction? Whatever we see on screen, it smacks of moviemakers who had no idea what they were trying to accomplish and, once they saw what they had, tried to add every type of visual trick to keep us from noticing all the flaws. It’s no surprise that Jenkins would give the film a polished look, given his work in music videos and commercials; it’s disappointing he didn’t spend time developing the script.
As parents, we look for movies to share with our kids. While there is nothing offensive about
How to Rob a Bank there is no reason to spend the gasoline money to check it out. Simply talking with each other at home is a much better way to share time.
Note to Parents: Despite the hype it received at recent independent film festivals,
How to Rob a Bank has nothing of nutritional value to offer to families. Younger children will be put off by the disconnected storyline; teenagers will look for more action; and adults will grow impatient with the whining of the key characters. It’s unfortunate that, when so many deserving scripts go unproduced, that the limited production dollars land like this on the screen — with a thud.
Film Nutritional Value:
How to Rob a Bank
* Content: Low. The marginal plotline can barely sustain the film’s short running time.
* Entertainment: Low. Visually, the film is interesting but, ultimately, it’s a poorly paced and hollow caper.
* Message: Low. It’s not a message picture. It’s not entertaining, either. The only message, and this is a stretch, is that we all pay too much to use ATMs.
* Relevance: Low. None of us need to be reminded that economic times are tough right now. That these whining characters are discovering the real world is hardly the foundation for an entertaining film.
* Opportunity for Dialogue: Low. Read a book or play a board game.
