EMILY THE CRIMINAL (2022)
Directed by John Patton Ford
Roadside Attractions, 93 minutes, R (language, drugs, some violence)
★★★★
Audience scores for Emily the Criminal were so tepid that it barely recouped its $2 million budget. (If you don’t know, a budget that low is like buying gasoline for 30 cents a gallon.) I have to think that it simply wasn’t marketed very well, because it has a recognizable lead (Aubrey Plaza) and critics liked it. More to the point, it’s a really good film. Maybe the problem is that it was packaged a crime thriller. I can see that, but it’s really more of social commentary than a thriller.
Emily Benetto (Plaza) is a young woman failing to make a go of her life in the Los Angeles gig economy. She’s smart and smart alecky, but she’s burdened by crippling student debt and once got into a spot of trouble. Life on the margins + dead-end jobs + a criminal record = unemployable insofar as securing a decent-paying job goes. As her frustration grows, so too does her snarkiness and pessimism. It doesn’t help that her job with a catering service–Gina Gershon plays her boss–doesn’t exactly expose her to La-La Land’s most-polite citizens. And it really doesn’t help when someone she knows pulls strings to get Emily an interview with a magazine, which turns out to be a long unpaid internship that might turn into a paid position if she excels against other interns. She finds that insulting, says so in no uncertain terms, and storms out. (Anyone out there share her view and mine that unpaid internships are a violation of unfair labor practices laws?)
The crime part of the movie comes when she finds her way to Youcef Haddad (Theo Rossi) on a tip that he’s looking for someone to be a “dummy shopper.” If you’re thinking she’s helping others, think again. Emily’s obvious intelligence grabs Youcef’s attention in a roomful of other recruits, many of whom are probably undocumented immigrants. The operation is really a credit card scam. “Shoppers” are issued cards Youcef and his cousin Kahlil (Jonathan Agridori) make themselves and bear names and numbers gathered via identity theft. The job is to use the cards to buy high-ticket items and bring them to a predetermined location where they are loaded onto a truck that will take them to be fenced. Illegal? Of course, but $200 a day sounds good to Emily. If the system is going to treat her like garbage, why not get back at the metaphorical haulers?
Dangerous? Shoppers are told never to visit the same place over a period of time. It also helps to be issued a taser and receive directions on how to use it. She will have to do exactly that when she’s jumped while dog sitting for her friend Liz (Megalyn Echikunwoke). Youcef plays both a love interest (of sorts) and the good guy role that’s juxtaposed against Kahlil’s surly cold-heartedness.
I won’t pretend that Emily the Criminal is the most original film you’ll ever see. Based on the above, you might be able to sketch out most of the directions the script takes. For the record, it also channels the Lawrence Kasdan-directed Body Heat (1981) at one point and this film is certainly not in the same quality category at that one. Nonetheless, Plaza is letter-perfect as a young woman pushed to the edge. She enhances the role by also playing the part physically. She’s clearly an attractive young woman but Plaza plays Emily as rough around the edges, the sort who embodies the phrase “she cleans up well.” In other words, she strikes a balance between downtrodden grit and affected poise, and walks the line between anger and hope.
Emily the Criminal did well at the Sundance Festival, so think of this one as one of those so-called “small” independent films whose lack of traction was due more to falling through the cracks rather than its merits. It also helps to muse upon its ironic title. If the proverbial “system” gives no breaks, who is the criminal in the title? Give it a try and decide for yourself.
Rob Weir
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