Thief

Frank (James Caan) is a veteran jewel thief who fronts as a car dealer. After his fence unexpectedly dies, he is recruited by mob boss Leo (Robert Prosky) to perform a difficult, high-value heist. Though Frank is hesitant, he sees the take as a way to retire with his girlfriend Jesse (Tuesday Weld) in peace. However, it isn’t long before he’s attracted unwanted attention from corrupt police officers and his plans are put in jeopardy.

This 1981 adaptation of jewel thief Frank Hohimer’s Confessions of a Cat Burglar served as Michael Mann’s directorial debut, and while he would go on to bigger and better things, Thief serves as the genesis for Mann’s trademark style. Like much of his later work (Heat in particular), Thief is steeped in gritty realism and visually striking. Hohimer and other real-life thieves served as technical advisors, and Dennis Farina (then still a Chicago police detective) plays a small supporting role. The result is that everything from Frank’s cagey demeanor to the tools he uses seems authentic.

Mann also debuts some signature touches (an important, character-establishing conversation in a coffee shop, police tracking a vehicle on a highway at night, etc.) that will be familiar to fans of his work. Even the synth-heavy soundtrack (courtesy of Tangerine Dream) serves as a prelude of sorts to Jan Hammer’s successful Miami Vice theme. From a production standpoint, you would have a hard time telling this is a debut film: everything is masterfully handled.

But while Mann’s style is still easy to appreciate 30+ years later, other aspects of the film fall flat. The plot is nothing if not predictable, and there are no likeable characters here. We are supposed to take Frank (who longs for retirement and family) as an antihero, but even in this morally ambiguous capacity, his volatility, bigotry, and selfishness make him hard to get behind.

The acting is likewise uneven. Caan fills Frank’s shoes with gusto and delivers a credible performance in the lead while Prosky brings both literal and figurative weight to the villainous Leo. The third-best performance may very well belong to Willie Nelson, who appears briefly as Frank’s ill, imprisoned compatriot. On the other hand, James Belushi is ineffectual and miscast as Frank’s sidekick, Barry. Weld, meanwhile, proves herself to be her generation’s Cameron Diaz, stumbling through an empty performance as the clueless Jessie. The rest of the supporting characters – be they cop or criminal – are clichéd and one-dimensional.

At its core, Thief is an 80s B movie elevated by the technical prowess of its makers. This makes it worth a look as both an artifact and a way to pass the time, but it lacks the complete package feel of Mann’s later works.

7/10