PR in the Philippines

(SeaPRwire) –   Creating a compelling crime film first requires getting the audience to invest in a protagonist who is fundamentally unethical. Filmmakers might create a world of sophisticated criminals who target the wealthy (Ocean’s 11, The Thomas Crown Affair), revel in stylized violence between criminals (Pulp Fiction, Snatch), endow the hero with a secret moral core (Drive, Donnie Brasco), or simply make them slightly smarter and less brutal than their associates (The Departed, The Town). This approach frequently glosses over the sociopathic reality of organized crime; for instance, the film Donnie Brasco transformed Al Pacino’s mobster from the genuine cold-blooded brute into a tragic character who could only exist in cinema.

Thief avoids these concessions. Debuting 45 years ago today, Michael Mann’s first feature introduces its lead safecracker with an extended, nearly silent diamond robbery. The methodical precision of the protagonist and his team suggests another tale of polished experts. However, observing James Caan’s Frank outside of work reveals he is nothing like Danny Ocean.

Frank is rude, impulsive, ignorant, sexist, racist, and so stubborn he endangers himself. His career as a thief fits because it’s difficult to picture him in any other role. This isn’t to say he lacks human moments, but they are overwhelmed by the profession that consumes his life to the point of naming the film. He desires to execute a final heist and retire to a peaceful domestic life with Jessie (Tuesday Weld), yet it’s uncertain what he would gain from such an existence apart from boredom.

Frank’s most profound realizations occur when he recounts prison life to Jessie, and his sole instance of genuine compassion is when he arranges for a dying friend to leave prison for one last look at the outside world. Having lost his own twenties to incarceration, Frank perceives everything through the lens of that experience. The outcome is a man who embodies the most severe and isolating form of being an outsider. When the Hollywood glamour is removed, an outsider’s life is not a comfortable one.

The few people Frank meaningfully engages with are as marginalized as he is. Jessie has her own, less voluntary, criminal past. The crime boss Leo (Robert Prosky) lectures Frank on the value of family, but he reveals his true nature when making vicious threats to control him. Every character—from the blatantly corrupt cops extorting Frank to the unseen woman who sells him and Jessie a baby—is driven solely by self-interest.

This gritty reality is juxtaposed with beautiful imagery of rain-glazed streets, lengthy, almost fetishistic sequences of men operating their tools, and an iconic Tangerine Dream score that evokes the atmosphere of a Harrison Ford replicant hunt. Mann’s first film earned him significant praise for good reason. He coats Frank’s work in a stylish sheen before allowing its harsh truth to take over.

Inspired loosely by the questionable autobiography of burglar Frank Hohimer—who also preached family values while presenting himself as a crude thug only marginally better than the fearsome mobsters he knew—Thief plays like a lean, early version of Mann’s later masterpiece Heat (a kind of Preheat). The film rests appropriately on Caan’s chilling performance. Perhaps Frank’s life would have been different if he hadn’t stolen money at age 20, or perhaps this was always his destiny. Since he hasn’t pondered it deeply, neither should we.

The parallels to Heat are clear—emotionally detached criminals, an extended diner conversation, and a fixation on the technical details of equipment and firearms are signature Michael Mann touches present here. Yet Thief also feels connected to The Irishman, with Frank’s potential descent into lonely obscurity hinted at as he walks off alone into the night. He must abandon the idealized life he claimed to want and revert to the identity that defines him, and it’s difficult to conceive of Thief concluding any other way.

In this regard, and in every other, Thief is a resolute character examination of a resolute man. You will not like Frank, and you will likely be exasperated by his near-suicidal dedication to his own autonomy. But within a film landscape populated by implausible gentleman thieves and likable swindlers, he stands as a uniquely authentic representation of his trade.

Thief is available to rent on Prime Video.