Endearing, fast-paced offspring of Raising Arizona (1987) and "actual events", this jinxed comedy debuted on US tv during the dog days of summer when everyone I know was still on vacation. Please be home the next time it's aired.
Filmed several years earlier at a moment in history when it would've been hyped as a Brooke Shields/Rip Torn vehicle, "The Almost Perfect Bank Robbery" will one day be known as a wholly-owned subsidiary of Dylan Walsh's commanding performance.
A catchy score, richly-detailed comic touches in every scene, great attention to the peculiar supporting cast (at least five of whom were huge fun to watch in Radioland Murders), and the genial spoofing of our fondness for mall openings and "Wheel of Fortune"--none of the above would've kept me glued to the tube if it weren't for the adhesive that Dylan Walsh's performance applied to all that silliness.
He created a character SO earnest and SO focused (in perfect contrast to his scatterbrained sweetheart) that purely in sympathy I HAD to take the movie as seriously as he took his caper. While the rest of the cast diverts our attention with comic vignettes, all the suspense, all the credibility, and our only hold on this runaway train of a plot--it's all to be found on Walsh's face and in his body language. As the pressure builds, he lets us see his confidence begin to crumble, just a little at a time, while laboring to hide his feelings from everyone else.
Brooke Shields's lie-detector scene will make you laugh out loud (good acting, great writing), but Walsh's lie-detector scene will make you sweat. Does any actor since Peter Lorre do pure anxiety better than Dylan Walsh?
The director, who clearly enjoys drawing our attention to so many visual details, was right to comment that his movie was "almost" perfect; no movie is perfect if it can't manage a scene in a car without yanking the rear-view mirror. I HATE that! We've overcome the difficulties of ceilings and wall-to-wall carpeting, but in this age of Industrial Light & Magic, why oh why is it still so hard to show us the rear-view mirror?
Filmed several years earlier at a moment in history when it would've been hyped as a Brooke Shields/Rip Torn vehicle, "The Almost Perfect Bank Robbery" will one day be known as a wholly-owned subsidiary of Dylan Walsh's commanding performance.
A catchy score, richly-detailed comic touches in every scene, great attention to the peculiar supporting cast (at least five of whom were huge fun to watch in Radioland Murders), and the genial spoofing of our fondness for mall openings and "Wheel of Fortune"--none of the above would've kept me glued to the tube if it weren't for the adhesive that Dylan Walsh's performance applied to all that silliness.
He created a character SO earnest and SO focused (in perfect contrast to his scatterbrained sweetheart) that purely in sympathy I HAD to take the movie as seriously as he took his caper. While the rest of the cast diverts our attention with comic vignettes, all the suspense, all the credibility, and our only hold on this runaway train of a plot--it's all to be found on Walsh's face and in his body language. As the pressure builds, he lets us see his confidence begin to crumble, just a little at a time, while laboring to hide his feelings from everyone else.
Brooke Shields's lie-detector scene will make you laugh out loud (good acting, great writing), but Walsh's lie-detector scene will make you sweat. Does any actor since Peter Lorre do pure anxiety better than Dylan Walsh?
The director, who clearly enjoys drawing our attention to so many visual details, was right to comment that his movie was "almost" perfect; no movie is perfect if it can't manage a scene in a car without yanking the rear-view mirror. I HATE that! We've overcome the difficulties of ceilings and wall-to-wall carpeting, but in this age of Industrial Light & Magic, why oh why is it still so hard to show us the rear-view mirror?