American Hustle

Though it boasts an impressive cast and a promising storyline, American Hustle ultimately establishes itself as yet another disappointment from David O. Russell – with the film, saddled with a 138 minute (!) running time, often coming off as an interminable and downright boring piece of work that one endures more than one experiences. The movie, which details the 1970s-set exploits of several sketchy figures (including Christian Bale’s Irving Rosenfeld, Bradley Cooper’s Richie DiMaso, and Amy Adams’ Sydney Prosser), unfolds at an almost excessively deliberate pace that prevents the viewer from connecting to the material on an ongoing basis, with the hands-off atmosphere perpetuated by an erratic and far-from-cohesive narrative that lurches from one uninvolving, ill-conceived set-piece to the next (ie there’s just no momentum here). It is, as a result, not surprising to note that the talented cast is given little of consequence or substance to work with here, as Russell often seems more concerned with sustaining the film’s flashy aesthetic than with transforming the protagonists into three-dimensional, wholeheartedly interesting figures – with the most obvious casualty of Russell’s superficial modus operandi Jennifer Lawrence’s barely-developed Rosalyn Rosenfeld. (The actress attempts to compensate by offering up an irrelevant, wildly over-the-top performance that’s like nails on a chalkboard, which is similarly true, to varying degrees, of virtually all of the movie’s assorted players). American Hustle‘s inability to capture the viewer’s attention, even fleetingly, ultimately cements its place as a disastrous and thoroughly misguided endeavor, with Russell’s palpable incompetence insidiously affecting every aspect of the proceedings and ensuring that, with few exceptions, the movie is hopelessly devoid of compelling sequences.

*1/2 out of ****