A heist? More like robbing you in front of your eyes. And by you, I mean you. Reading this.
The director Steven Soderberg is famous for sugar coating a bitter script into a magical bean. That’s sort of his resume. He directs. And just as some famous directors (only directors) he relies, obviously, a lot on the writer. Unfortunately, tonight’s not the night for Soderberg. That is not an excuse or defend for the director. I am not lawyer-ing for him, since he chose to work on the script with a big star in his pockets. I am defending him for I am with him, completely on his work. Usually while reading a script, something clicks and you see those words in a certain way. Hopefully, no one has ever seen.
Now you want to put your personal spin on that storyline and characters that will hook the audience lickety split. And if I was in his seat, I would too struggle a lot to hone this based-on-real-events crisis. But then maybe that’s why he is Soderberg and I am.. Anyhoo, this brings back to where we started. The film doesn’t stay true to anything. It never reaches the “Oh! This is that kind of a film” moment. And when it does and it does, late, right before the last act. It is clearly too late.
Despite well edited so called “small talks” and hilarious scenarios, the film doesn’t capture the humor as it needed to. It is referred to, as being a wannabe Adam McKay’s The Big Short, but it actually isn’t. McKay’s bibliography might as well be thrown out since it’s not going to be useful for anyone but him. His unique touch is not Midas but a McKay’s touch. The gold that Soderberg digs here had a wrong map, motivation and might I dare, even the hosts. And I mean, every actor present in The Laundromat.