Sigh. Let’s just get this out of the way so we can all move on: Con artist movie Focus is a steaming pile of dung. It’s a stomach-churningly glossy, empty, poorly-plotted, terribly-scripted, overly-shiny, vacuous, blank, emotionless, impassive, wooden, lifeless, careless, abonimable, abhorrent, insipid, loathsome, repugnant, odious, hateful, nauseous, insufferable, irksome rotten mess of a movie. It’s the kind of picture that has come into being because the bunch of cynical fucks behind most Big Movies have gone too far and have assumed that we – that’s me, you, the guy who was here five minutes ago and the girl who will drop by tomorrow – are nothing more than cooing, mindless idiots who will be left impressed and satisfied and mentally stimulated by nothing more than a combination of Margot Robbie’s body, Will Smith’s body, some sparkling jewellery, a couple of expensive cars and swanky hotel room after swanky hotel room after swanky hotel room after swanky hotel room after swanky hotel room after…AAAAAARRRRGGGHHH! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE! IT! STOP! They think that by merely throwing all these pretty things together into one 90-minute package and including nothing else of note we will be convinced that we’re being entertained and we will not notice that the plot is as thin as a cheese sandwich or that the whole thing is very close to being completely devoid of charm; the one saving grace being Adrian Martinez, who is ever-so-slightly amusing during his brief time on screen. As for the rest of it: porridge has more charm. A carpet has more charm. A toothpick…a fucking toothpick…has more charm than Focus. I find it incredible that people are expected to pay good money for this or that *splutter* $50 million was spent in order to make it. Here’s Will Smith’s chest. Here are Margot Robbie’s legs. Give us your money. Here are some shiny things. Look how they sparkle. Here’s a sports car. Look at the sports car. Looky wooky at the sportsy wortsy car. These people have nothing but contempt for cinemagoers. The story is woeful, the whole ethos of the film makes me sick, the cons are particularly unconvincing and I fear for Smith in particular, who seems to have no trouble whatsoever playing an insufferably smug prick. It’s incredible that the duo behind I Love You, Phillip Morris, Crazy, Stupid Love and the screenplay for Bad Santa have turned this in. Seriously: watch The Thomas Crown Affair (either version), The Grifters or The Sting instead of this repugnant toss.
Directed by: Glenn Ficarra, John Requa.
Written by: Glenn Ficarra, John Requa.
Starring: Will Smith, Margot Robbie, Rodrigo Santoro, Gerald McRaney, B.D. Wong, Adrian Martinez.
Cinematography: Xavier Pérez Grobet.
Editing: Jan Kovac.
Music: Nick Urata.
Running Time: 102 minutes.