Caught Stealing

Darren Aronofsky isn’t a director who tends to cut loose. His comfort zone is exploring the darkest depths of misery (Requiem For A Dream), Biblical apocalypses (Noah, mother!), and characters chasing oblivion (The Wrestler). But while there are typically Aronofskian themes at play in Caught Stealing, it is, ostensibly, the filmmaker having fun — a gritty, pacy, propulsive crime thriller, adapted from Charlie Huston’s novel, that grabs Austin Butler by the ankles and drags him screaming further and further into New York’s criminal underbelly. It’s quite the pivot from 2022’s The Whale.

This being Aronofsky, it’s a particularly stressful type of fun. There are shades of After Hours and Uncut Gems in the escalating anxiety-nightmare stakes that Butler’s bartender Hank faces across his urban odyssey. A reluctant agreement to cat-sit for neighbour Russ (a mohawked Matt Smith on brilliantly brash form) has deadly consequences when Russian mobsters turn up and beat Hank to a pulp — just the beginning of his pain.

Aronofsky puts pedal to the metal here, with often thrilling results.

It’s that commitment to pain that makes Caught Stealing a true Aronofsky film; not only does the violence hit hard, with bone-crunching sound effects, but it’s clear Hank has become numb to his own agony. His relationship with alcohol is unhealthy. Trauma from his youth wakes him up screaming every morning. The film asks whether Hank can get his shit together and move forward — hope for a brighter future represented by Zoë Kravitz, on sparkling form as Hank’s almost-girlfriend, paramedic Yvonne. Unfortunately, the world seems intent on dragging him to hell, as successively shifty criminal figures emerge to ruin his life.

Aronofsky puts pedal to the metal here, with often thrilling results. This is easily his most accessible work since Black Swan, more akin to David Fincher in Panic Room or The Game mode. It’s beautifully lensed by Matthew Libatique, wallowing in the grime and grit of NYC, shot on location in the Big Apple; Butler balances Hank as a sympathetic lead, a frustrating fuck-up, and a capable quick-thinker when the mayhem begins; and the intensity is ratcheted up by a friction-fuelled soundtrack by British post-punkers Idles.

Which makes it all the more frustrating that Caught Stealing almost fatally kneecaps itself so early on, with an end-of-Act-1 turn that threatens to deflate the whole affair. A seismic plot development drains nearly all the emotional investment built up, leaving a sour taste in the mouth just when the madness kicks into gear. It’s hard to get beyond. Perhaps that sourness is what Aronofsky relishes — even in fun mode, he can’t help but be drawn to the abyss.