Like Marty, the film that bears his name has no heart. It's all plot, no story. A runaway Rube Goldberg machine that keeps the character conning and the camera charging through relationships, conventions, and common sense, only to leave the audience behind to sift through the debris for the film's emotional point or purpose.
Safdie's talent and style is evident throughout. He's a good, highly kinetic director. And Chalamet has probably never been better. He's an actor who shows no fear and here he embraces Marty's shamelessness and cruelty with glee.
Unfortunately, it's all in service to an overstuffed and overlong shaggy dog story (with an actual shaggy dog) that rinses and repeats Marty's callousness in incident after incident that batters, and frankly, bores. The character never stops moving or talking, but ends up standing still. His ping-pong shots have an arc, but he doesn't. And the completely unearned finale, despite what the writers might believe, doesn't lend him one.
This is Catch Me If You Can without the joie de vivre. The Loneliness of the Long Distance Runner without the rebellion. It glitters and shines and catches the eye, but it's not another uncut gem. It's costume jewelry.
