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JUSTIN TANNER REVIEWS EMILY THE CRIMINAL
I don’t know how the thoroughly delicious Aubrey Plaza managed to stay off my radar all these years. True, I never saw one episode of “Parks and Recreation” — I’m allergic to sitcoms. But I did watch the movies “Black Bear” and “Safety Not Guaranteed” when they came out, and though I remember liking them both, I had no recollection of Plaza at all. Shame on me. So I played a little catch up this week, going down a YouTube rabbit hole of her numerous late night talk show appearances. Aubrey's quietly dismissive takedown of the unctuous and repugnant Howie Mandel on the Jay Leno show is positively epic! And I streamed her brilliant 2017 exercise in queasy discomfort, “Ingrid Goes West.” In that movie she plays Ingrid, a needy, obsessive sociopath (like a female version of Patricia Highsmith’s Ripley character) who is nonetheless adorable, and whom we root for (in vain) to get her act together (or her meds right).
And Plaza climbs right inside the character’s manic, uncomfortable skin and doesn’t let up for a second. It’s a breathtaking performance, but also an exhausting one. Her commitment is so deep and tenacious, she seems always on the verge of being genuinely repellent. Luckily, in “Emily the Criminal,” Plaza has found a role that balances her character’s ‘bad girl’ qualities with a totally relatable charm and genuine warmth. She misbehaves, gloriously, but this time we’re on her side, cheering her on. The movie has been described as a dark journey, but I found the whole thing uplifting. Sure her character gets into crime, one baby step at a time, but she’s without options and her chosen weapon is a portable taser, not a gun. In fact, there is a refreshing lack of guns in the movie, though box-cutters show up more than once, and a truncheon is used to almost knock the brains out of the male love interest (a dreamy Theo Rossi from “Sons of Anarchy”).
The difficulty (impossibility, really) of finding meaningful employment while saddled with a criminal record (for assault and a DUI) plus a crushing amount of student loan debt (her weekly salary from a shitty catering job barely covers the interest) leaves Emily with few options. And her smarts, charm and willingness to work hard do her zero good in the modern business world. When her best friend pulls some strings to get Emily an interview at a smug culture magazine, a job she’s clearly overqualified for, the haughty/grotesque editor doing the hiring (a reptilian Gina Gershon) expects her to work for free as an intern for six months. Emily justifiably pushes back on this ridiculous ‘offer’, and when Gershon orders her out of the office, snaps “You want to tell me what to do? Pay me first.” Facing the harsh realities of a system that seems bent on destroying the very idea of an even playing field — remember when college used to be free? — Emily turns to credit card fraud as a way to get out of debt so she can return to her first love: art. (Her drawings, which she spends most of the movie gently deprecating are good, but she lacks the time and freedom to be able to devote herself to mastery). The criminal enterprise she gets swept up in is run by the gentle and compassionate Youcef (Rossi), and he proves himself to be the most upstanding employer in the film, telling everyone right up front exactly what the job is: fraud, with no bullshit, no manipulation.
His slow-burn romance with Emily builds by tiny plausible increments until the very hot moment when she suddenly pushes him up against a building for a full court press: they make for a very sexy team. And though the perils of love and danger bring to mind 90’s neo-noir, (critics have described the film as ‘dark’ and ‘pitch-black’) John Patton Ford’s seamless script and astoundingly confident direction, feels more like Ernst Lubitsch (Trouble in Paradise) than Michael Mann (Heat). There’s also a refreshing lack of judgement in the film; we are never invited to wag our finger at Emily. In fact, when it looks as if she might quit larceny for a desk job, we’re momentarily horrified at the possibility. Yes, there are harrowing scenes of danger. Emily is accosted by numerous lowlifes, she’s punched in the face and a knife is held to her throat by a repulsive druggie couple who get what’s coming to them. But her canny thinking, quick insights and brilliant ability to pivot on a dime keep the story from slipping into exploitation. Besides, Emily knows how to take care of herself. She starts out smart and gets only more intuitive and determined as the film progresses. By the closing shots, which lead to a very satisfying ending, we are seeing someone who has made mistakes but learned from them. She’s not a cautionary tale, she’s an inspiration.
Aubrey Plaza has found the right role at the right moment. It’s a part that allows her to be vulnerable, dynamic, tough, scary and sexy as hell. Most importantly it provides a conduit for her preternatural brilliance to burn through to the surface in a way her other roles have only hinted it. From the first frame, she projects that rare quality of genuine star power and we can’t look away. We don’t want to do anything but sit there and soak in the reflective glow. In a year of great female performances — with Daisy Edgar-Jones (Fresh), Dakota Johnson (Cha Cha Real Smooth), Sophia Kappel (Pleasure), Tilda Swinton (Memoria), Emma Thompson (Good Luck to You, Leo Grande), Zoey Deutch (Not Okay) and Rebecca Hall (Resurrection) all delivering career-best work — Plaza goes to the head of the class. IN THEATRES
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It’s a great credit to the director and co-writer, Matt Spicer, that he doesn’t offer Ingrid a false arc of redemption. Unlike John Nash in Ron Howard’s dopey fairytale, “A Beautiful Mind”, whose schizophrenia is cured by a good hug, Ingrid has no easy escape route from the chilling grip of her psychological demons.
