Kelly Reichardt’s MIFF headliner, The Mastermind, is a uniquely slow and understated reimagining of the usually cerebral, high-energy heist genre.

Reichardt subverts the genre in numerous ways. Initially, through the setting, with heist taking place in a quaint local art gallery, of a sleepy Massachusetts town. The unlikely target: a series of abstract paintings by the little known modernist Arthur Dove. This low stakes scenario fosters a surprising sense of humour, amplified further by the unassuming and dopey characterization of protagonist James, portrayed by Josh O’Connor, and his accomplices.

This patient style is further reflected in the film's quiet soundscape, and subdued visual language, featuring long takes of static wide shots, with muted earthy colouring shot on 16mm film to evoke the nostalgic feel of the 70’s era and its cinema.

Despite its stylistic restraint, the film avoids dulling the genre; A testament to the excellent writing, directing and acting. The brilliant jazz score also does some heavy lifting as it sparingly weaves through the film, inducing a pavlovian adrenaline response. When that first teasing tap of a snare is heard the audience unconsciously sits upright, knowing the stakes are being raised. Or this was the case, for the first half of the film.

While heist films generally take place during the planning and execution of a heist, this one drags on, continuing beyond the heist itself and into the unglamorous aftermath. In the latter half, James idles aimlessly in hiding, doing little but attempting (and as always, failing) to parasitise his friends and family for money and shelter. We hold tight to our expectations; that the protagonist will turn it around somehow, win the score, and get away scot-free. However, this expectation is continuously subverted as James continuously fails. Yet we hold on, for his charm, and his glimpses of capability. He begs his wife Terri (Alana Haim), and by extension the audience, for “a little faith”, and we grant it to him. This proves to be unjustified. Eventually, he falls to his lowest point before finally facing the ultimate consequence, tying that loose end kept dangling before us like a carrot before a horse. The way in which he meets his end is somewhat amusing, albeit exasperated by the misplaced justice and the abruption of it all, thereby feeling dissatisfying.

I pay credit where it’s due to Reichardt for offering a fresh realist perspective on an often repetitive genre. However, it felt like I was watching two separate films that failed to energetically and narratively cohere. Though I found the first half engaging in its quiet thrills, the latter half retained its quietude but now without any of the (however misguided) hope or zeal of the first half. I felt that the film betrayed the audience to an extent, by setting up and asking us to maintain our expectations for so long, only to never meet them and to leave us feeling cheated. I do believe the second half is strong in its own right. My problem primarily derives from the lack of cohesion between the two halves. If presented as two separate films, I think I would have thought of each part more highly than I do of their combination. Unfortunately, this was not my experience.

It was perhaps not my favourite film caught at MIFF this year, but it is the one that I can’t keep from talking and thinking about. For that I commend it, and recommend others to watch and form their own opinion, if for nothing else, so that I have more people to argue with about it.

The Mastermind will screen in Australian cinemas from October 23rd.