A review of Kelly Reichardt’s The Mastermind, a minimalist, tragicomic twist on the heist genre, following Josh O’Connor as an apathetic family man whose amateur art theft slowly falls apart.

Imagine this: you are walking down the street at 9 a.m., barely awake, caffeinated beverage in hand, merely trying to make it through another day when you make eye contact with a stranger.  They’re cute.  They raise their eyebrows slightly. Are they surprised? Okay be nice.  You smile. They don’t smile back. Did you smile too wide? Are they disgusted by you?  Wait!  Someone else is looking at you weird. You think?   Is there something on your face? Oh god.  There are more peo