From the star-studded promotional posters, you would be forgiven for thinking that American Hustle is going to be a slick crime caper with glamour to rival Ocean’s Eleven.
Cue the first scene: a paunchy Christian Bale delicately gluing a toupee to the top of his balding head in a Plaza Hotel. The con begins.
Bringing together Bale, Amy Adams, Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence – the stars of his two biggest movies (The Fighter and Silver Linings Playbook) – writer-director David O Russell must have been tempted to go all-out glitz. Instead, to his credit, he does the complete opposite. The sheen is merely a smokescreen for the bleakness that lies beneath the characters.
It’s 1978 in New York and Christian Bale is Irving Rosenfeld, a washed out dry cleaner/conman whose days of low-level hustling come to an end when he falls for the equally phony Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams). With the help of Sydney’s snobbish alias ‘Lady Edith’, the loved-up duo embark on a money-making scam that takes Irving to unnerving levels of wealth.
Inevitably the pair fly too close to the sun.
On this occasion, the heat emanates from Bradley Cooper’s federal agent Richie DiMaso who, after a bit of trickery of his own, ensnares the couple. The rabid-eyed but vulnerable DiMasso though is not satisfied with the capture of a common crook and begins coercing the pair into helping him nab bigger fish in Congress and the Mafia underworld.
With the help of a Mexican dressed as a Sheikh, the unlikely trio are catapulted into a relentless crusade of betrayal and distrust – mostly brought on by each other – as they attempt to survive in a world they aren’t all together familiar with.
Obstacles come in the form of the brilliant Jennifer Lawrence as Irving’s erratic wife Rosalyn, a cameo from a screen legend and, oddly for such a movie, the conscience of the characters. Irving befriends the altruistic Mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), who DiMasso is planning to bring down, and slowing begins to realise he may have found a genuine friend in this arena of duplicity.
In American Hustle, nothing is quite what it seems; the conman has feelings, the politician tells the truth and we’re not supposed to root for the hero-cop. O. Russell is careful to ensure that ‘the con’ entwines its way through the plot, never quite leaving the screen.
Whether it be the permed hair of DiMasso, the scented nail varnish of Rosalyn Rosenfeld or the fake British accent of ‘Lady Edith’, the characters are constantly tricking each other and the audience. There comes a point when we, the audience, aren’t exactly surely who’s conning who, begging the question whether we’re the victims of the dupe.
Somehow, none if this becomes disconcerting but wholly enjoyable. We, the audience, become willing participants in helping O. Russell pull the wool over our eyes. We readily swoon over Bale’s gravelly voice-over, conjuring up images of Scorsese’s Goodfellas, we gladly laugh at the incompetent Rosalyn and we cheerfully tap along to Irving and Carmine as they belt out Tom Jones’ Delilah.
It is easy to see why American Hustle dominated Sunday night’s Golden Globes with three awards. It is a hilariously told, almost true, story and thoroughly enjoyable to watch. The fast-pace is complimented superbly by the frantic characters, in most part thanks to fantastic acting.
Bale once again defies belief with his body-morphing. It’s not just his shape-shifting that impresses though as he becomes startlingly believable as the slovenly yet charming ‘Irv’. The brilliance of Bale, unlike some A-list stars, is that the we are never reminded of any of his former characters when we watch him.
This, after all, is the eternally cool Batman that we see desperately and at times pathetically trying to piece his life back together in American Hustle. Not once do we think of Bruce Wayne or Patrick Bateman of the countless other unique characters of Bale, such is his mastery.
Cooper plays the part of the story’s axis solidly. He is the fly in the ointment of Irving and Sydney and the introduction of his character takes the film to another level. He handles this role brilliantly contrasting nicely with Irving and the general flow of the arc.
As good as Bale and Cooper are in this movie though, it is the women that steal the screen whenever they appear.
Adams, who won best actress on Sunday, fluctuates between identities with astonishing ease, perfectly reflecting the unhinged nature of her true character. Lawrence, winner of best supporting actress, is sublime as the unpredictable ‘other woman’, despite being Irving’s wife, and her desperate hilarity make the audience want to look away and crave proximity in equal measure. The pair contradict each other entirely, generating one of the more enjoyable sub-plots.
American Hustle is a fantastic film and it is safe to say a con will not be necessary to persuade the Academy judges of its brilliance come March. Other Oscar contenders better watch out for this one as it could just hustle its way to the very top.
Image courtesy of Entertainment Film Distribution via YouTube, with thanks.
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