Essentially a throwback to pulpy 90s thrillers, Darren Aronofsky's 'Caught Stealing (2025)' is the kind of mid-budget, character-driven, star-studded movie they just don't make anymore. To be clear, they don't make these anymore not because they can't (or because "everything's too PC these days", which it honestly isn't - I mean, just look at the US President), but because they've created an environment in which this sort of thing just isn't viable. "They", of course, refers to the Hollywood studios who have basically split the marketplace into uber-expensive blockbusters and uber-cheap indie flicks with nothing in-between, pushed IP above talent or star power, decided that only certain types of film play in the cinema for the appropriate amount of time, and constantly wonder where they went wrong and why they keep losing money on tentpole pictures that make over $100 million dollars but still can't recuperate their mammoth production budgets. Regardless of the reasons it's so rare, it's lovely to see something like this on the big screen, a narrative so unconcerned with sequels or cameos that can afford to be lean, mean and relatively unpredictable. This New York-set novel adaptation sizzles with a punky energy that's only outmatched by its delightfully irreverent end credits (if the movie itself had even half the scream-in-your-face intensity of its scrolling end sequence, it would surely be one of the most intense Hollywood movies in recent years). Anchored by a surprisingly 'normal man' performance from Austin Butler, who grounds what constantly threatens to be a ridiculous narrative and acts as an emotional lifeline for the far zanier actors he's surrounded by, the feature sprints forward at its own self-assured pace and forces you to chase it, leaving a bloody trail of named-character bodies in its wake and barely taking a second to acknowledge the dangerous zig-zagging route it takes you on. With an unwieldly tone but a steady hand, the film remains engaging and enjoyable for its majority. It feels like it wants to primarily be fun, but it's actually quite gruelling in its own way because it's incredibly violent, bleak and coated in an almost tangible layer of dirt that reflects its atmosphere and setting. It is entertaining, for sure, but it's never as much of a flippantly callous blast as it seems to think it is. It's too mean to be unmitigated fun, but it's zippy and zesty and especially well-made for the kind of souped-up B-movie it ultimately is. It's a really good effort, one that feels like a throwback both in its period setting and in its overall vibe. It's a bit of a weird one for Aronofsky to do, but it proves that he's ultimately just a film fan like the rest of us. Not everything needs to have thematic weight or a specific point, nor does it need to push the boundaries of style or feel wholly unique. Sometimes it's okay to be caught stealing from the past, to create something that doesn't blow the world away but would have been steadily rented from Blockbuster nevertheless. This is an entertaining experience from beginning to end, and it's surprisingly refreshing considering how basic it undeniably is. It's actually pretty great.
