Harry Lehman (John Turturro) likes things the way they’ve always been; it’s hard for him to keep up with trends like Etsy, gluten-free bagels, and, of course, the switch to a near-cashless society.
These changes can be hard for anyone his age, but they’re especially difficult in his line of work. Like its protagonist, The Only Living Pickpocket in New York longs for the New York of the late 20th century. The character-driven narrative and simple but effective shots and sets harken back to ’80s and ’90s crime dramas, creating a sense of nostalgia shared by Harry and the audience.
The once-lucrative gig of pickpocketing in New York has proved more time-consuming and less profitable as more and more people carry less and less cash. But Harry can’t afford to keep swiping empty wallets and fake watches. His wife, Rosie (Karina Arroyave), is sick, in a catatonic state, and needs Harry for everything. Rosie not only raises the stakes to support Harry’s need to continue his life of crime, but their relationship provides the much-needed heart of this film as Harry desperately tries to make Rosie’s life as normal as possible. In one especially heartwarming scene, Harry dances to Odyssey’s “Native New Yorker,” encouraging Rosie to dance with him (though she just stares blankly back at him). It’s a heartbreaking scene of a man desperately trying to hold on to the past, adding a new layer to Harry’s reluctance to move on.
While Turturro carries the film with his dynamic and complex portrayal of Harry, many of the other characters become caricatures for cheap jokes. Dylan (Will Price) is a Gen Z frat-boy-turned-tech-bro whose money is in Crypto and is essentially a personification of the negative things Boomers think of Gen Z kids (you know, never seen a real book or had a conversation because they just look at their phones all day). His character is a one-dimensional jerk who, although the antagonist, somehow lowers the stakes of the film.
While The Only Living Pickpocket in New York is a fun crime drama with an interesting premise, its biggest flaw is that it assumes the audience isn’t very clever. The film constantly over-explains Harry’s sleight of hand, nearly begging for the audience to be impressed after never giving them the chance to discover the plots on their own. If the audience thinks “I never saw that coming” because you skip over the essential hints (or even full scenes) so they never had the chance to see it coming, you’ve missed half the fun in making a crime movie. Somehow the film flip-flops between under-explaining and over-explaining, and it fails to walk the line we expect of truly great, innovative heist films.
Ultimately, The Only Living Pickpocket in New York is heartfelt and bittersweet, albeit flat at times. It’s a shame, given Turturro’s talent, that it doesn’t come through in this film. The characters would have benefited from more dimensions, and the film could have afforded a deeper scene or two with its very tight runtime. Harry’s dilemma of adapting to the times, hanging on to what’s lost, and learning what truly matters in life was a great moral, but the execution ultimately makes the meaning of the film fall flat.
