'Crime 101' review: Generic heist film doesn't have the juice

Courtesy of Amazon MGM Studios

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Look, I understand that nothing can ever truly be “original.” It’s nearly impossible to conjure up a premise that hasn’t already been explored in a medium that’s been around for over a century. So yes, audiences will inevitably walk into “Crime 101,” an LA-set heist thriller, and start drawing comparisons to a certain Michael Mann classic from the nineties. The problem is not that “Crime 101” borrows from familiar territory. It’s that it never finds the panache or personality needed to elevate material we’ve all seen before. Maybe that comes from a pulse-pounding car chase, a singular performance, or a duo whose chemistry crackles so intensely it leaps off the screen. Whatever the secret sauce may be, it’s frustratingly absent here.

I struggled to find those moments in Bart Layton’s “Crime 101,” a film that looks stacked on paper but ultimately settles into a dull, mechanical rhythm. The ensemble is packed with heavy hitters, Chris Hemsworth, Monica Barbaro, Mark Ruffalo, Barry Keoghan, and Halle Berry, yet most of their characters feel oddly underwritten and emotionally inert. Despite the pedigree, they rarely get the chance to dig into anything substantial, leaving even talented performers stranded in a narrative that never quite ignites.

“Crime 101” hits nearly every genre cliché imaginable. There’s the central thief with a strict no-violence code, played by Hemsworth, who wants to believe he’s one of the good guys even as he shoves victims into trunks and politely informs them that water is nearby. Opposite him is Ruffalo’s grizzled detective, burned out and on the brink of divorce, chasing ghosts while the case slips through his fingers. The film tosses in a few potentially fun wrinkles, including Berry as a slick insurance broker working for a morally corrupt enterprise that would rather dodge payouts than do the right thing, and Keoghan as an unhinged mercenary who isn’t afraid to leave behind a mess in his wake. These elements should create chaos and texture, but the script rarely allows them to evolve beyond archetypes.

Hemsworth is particularly flat as elusive jewel thief Mike Davis, a hyper-meticulous planner desperate for one last score before he disappears into the sunset. He’s written as a man with no attachments, living in a sterile, personality-free apartment that draws parallels to a certain Robert De Niro character. The film attempts to humanize him through a meet-cute with Maya, played by Monica Barbaro, after a minor fender-bender. Unfortunately, their relationship is so thinly sketched that it barely registers. It ultimately feels like narrative filler rather than a meaningful connection, which raises the obvious question of why it’s there at all.

The story revolves around the familiar “one last job” trope, driven by Mike’s mounting anxiety and desire to finally sleep at night. You know from the opening scenes that he and Ruffalo’s weary detective are destined to collide. The film teases this inevitability for far too long without building the kind of suspense or character investment needed to make that collision feel earned. While the final showdown manages to inject a brief jolt of unpredictability, it arrives so late that it feels more like a desperate last-minute scramble than a satisfying payoff. By the time the credits roll, you’re left wondering why it took so long to deliver a moment that still falls short of memorable.

That makes “Crime 101” especially disappointing given Layton’s track record. One of his previous outings, “American Animals,” a personal favorite of mine from the last decade, proved he knows how to make a low-stakes heist job feel vibrant, chaotic, and enthralling. That film thrived on style and character psychology, pulling viewers into its world with kinetic storytelling and genuine stakes. Here, Layton seems restrained by a script that constantly gestures toward greatness but rarely commits to bolder choices. The movie flirts with the gritty DNA of 1970s crime cinema, even evoking the spirit of “The French Connection,” yet it seldom pauses long enough to explore what made those films electric in the first place. Instead of embracing risk, “Crime 101” plays it frustratingly safe, coasting on familiar beats without ever elevating them.

In the end, “Crime 101” is not a disaster. It’s occasionally intriguing and features a cast that should be capable of delivering something far more compelling. But competence is not enough in a genre defined by style, swagger, and unforgettable characters. Without that spark, the film ends up feeling like a collection of missed opportunities, a slick package that promises danger and excitement but rarely delivers anything more than a shrug.

Grade: C 

CRIME 101 is now playing in theaters.