Directed by:
David O. RussellCinematography:
Linus SandgrenComposer:
Danny ElfmanCast:
Christian Bale, Bradley Cooper, Amy Adams, Jeremy Renner, Jennifer Lawrence, Louis C.K., Jack Huston, Michael Peña, Shea Whigham, Alessandro Nivola (more)VOD (1)
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A fictional film set in the alluring world of one of the most stunning scandals to rock our nation, American Hustle tells the story of brilliant con man Irving Rosenfeld (Christian Bale), who along with his equally cunning and seductive British partner Sydney Prosser (Amy Adams) is forced to work for a wild FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper). DiMaso pushes them into a world of Jersey powerbrokers and mafia that's as dangerous as it is enchanting. Jeremy Renner is Carmine Polito, the passionate, volatile, New Jersey political operator caught between the con-artists and Feds. Irving's unpredictable wife Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence) could be the one to pull the thread that brings the entire world crashing down. (official distributor synopsis)
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Reviews (13)
We weren’t wrong about David O. Russel the first time. American Hustle wants to be a refreshing, engaging and vibrant gangster movie and manages it quite well. At times, it tries too hard, especially with the at times surprisingly and intentionally weird behaviour of some of the characters, but it never gets to the point of bothering me. The performances are superb without exception. It’s delivered as a comedy and I take it as such. This time Russel doesn’t try to unsuccessfully portray romantic relationships or social conflicts, which I take it as a plus. For me, good fun and satisfaction.
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Omniscient narrators, stylish slow moments, and a dancing Bradley Cooper as the director's good luck charm. The master David O. Russell has not only mastered the art of pushing actors to unforgettable performances, but has also been conquering the forms of more and more genres. In this cunning mess, he succeeds even better the more superficial and confusing the whole American Hustle seems to other viewers. A tour de force from Amy Adams is just the sweetest cherry on top.
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Funny, I never noticed that Amy Adams and Jennifer Lawrence have such amazingly sexy breasts. And I had no idea that it was their image that must have been the most intrusive to the academics when putting together the Oscar nominations. How else can you explain that this is supposed to be the best film in a year that also gave us the privilege of seeing such cinematic gems as Gravity, Captain Phillips and Prisoners? Perhaps it's stylish in its attempt to mix pop culture dialogue and arthouse retro gangster, perhaps it's superbly acted by a group of stars who parody themselves so nicely with incredible verve (except for Cooper – he plays his standard), and maybe I don't even regret waiting patiently for the expected hectic conclusion, but neither of the aforementioned pluses (not even the boobs) can elevate American Hustle to the level of a film worthy of such Oscar attention. And paradoxically, everything here is visibly focused on material awards – it’s not for nothing that they say that less is sometimes more. 65%
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I feel cheated. The film lured me in by assembling some of my favorite actors. I watched more than two hours of a boring attempt at Ocean's Eleven from the 70s. The intention of the filmmakers fell completely flat, I was bored. Plus, it was obvious from the start how the whole spectacle would turn out. I’m giving two stars for Christian Bale's comb-over and Bradley Cooper's hair curlers.
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O. Russell annoys me immensely. His films are reminiscent of a showcase of clichés and conventions, and if all this worked well in Fighter, it changed from Silver Linings Playbook to empty glitz covered with an imitation of "something more". However, his mannerist preference for certain techniques and compositions is not even "nicely cheesy" and cool (exciting), but simply emptily self-serving. Completely in line with the never-ending "just enough so that you can't see much" show of Amy Adams's cleavage, which instead of excitement arouses, after a while, an inquisitive feeling about whether she is supposed to attract attention or distract the viewer. An absurdly rich selection of period hits, a showcase of idiotic hairstyles, dysfunctional parallel storylines and narrator voices, carried by Bale, who is already starting to forget that acting means more than periodically gaining and dropping 50 kilos. After The Wolf of Wall Street, this artificial attempt at an epic of deception and hypocrisy, folded into a would-be brazen and contemplative whole, feels even more unappealing. And the last Marty didn't get under my skin much. But at least I still have enough sense to recognize a hoax from the original. [50%]
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