Leading the ensemble cast is Christian Bale in a stellar performance that required him to fatten up, don a pathetically epic comb-over, dress in wide-lappelled polysester suits and then, if all that wasn’t humiliating enough, he spends the rest of the movie getting dressed down until all that's left is gut, comb-over and those miserably sad eyes. He’s American Hustle’s in-house punching bag, but he takes it all with great strides.
The David O. Russell picture chronicles the criminals’ side of the ABSCAM case, in which a number of high-profile elected officials were duped into bribes, some of them related to a fictional sheik, possibly played by a Mexican guy from the FBI. The wealthy sheik needed some favors before he could invest in American companies, and there was no shortage of people offering to provide handouts. The movie is told from the perspective of the criminals who arranged the whole thing, not the criminals who had their names on ballots.
Slapping the cuffs on them is FBI agent Richie DiMaso (Bradley Cooper) who listens to his suspects' stories and hatches a plan of his own: he wants to use them to land bigger fish, and then with them even bigger catches. He's fishing for whales, and he won't stop until he hauls in Moby Dick. Richie's the classic case of a man "with eyes bigger than his stomach." He also has a lovely perm, which he fastens in spongy pink curlers. Wow, is it a look.
The movie has a warm ’70s glow to it, and a classic-rock soundtrack to match it. The hair and makeup are showstoppers, from the first garish thread to the last teased lock. The plot progresses at varying speeds: sometimes at a break-neck frenzy as Irving and Richie con their way up the criminal ladder and, at other times, a little slower, with Sydney and Irving's wife, Rosalyn (Jennifer Lawrence), trading accusations as they fight to woo the dopey men they've decided to associate with. Irving, poor guy, spends much of the movie maneuvering all the pieces around the board: his wife, his girlfriend, bankers, the FBI, elected officials, casino executives and a rather cranky member of the mob, a man who'd likely kill the lot of them if he ever gets wind of what's really transpiring. The cameo here is not really a surprise, but it's fun.
Central to the case is Camden Mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), who seems to know everyone and proves to be the Kevin Bacon of the ABSCAM's Six Degrees of Separation. He takes a strong liking to Irving, which guilts him to no end because he knows Carmine's going to be the fall guy for his scheme. Family man and all-around nice guy, Mayor Polito even gives Irving a microwave, which Irving calls a "science oven." He pleads with Rosalyn, don't put metal in it. Rosalyn, fidgeting and neurotic with a thick Joy-zee accent, promptly puts metal in it and nearly burns the house down.
This is not the master filmmaking of The Silver Linings Playbook, Russell's last movie, nor does it reach the Scorsese-hot fever pitch of movies like Goodfellas or Casino, which I think of as crime operas more than anything. This is not that focused — mostly it's too long — but it is very good, thrilling even, especially with this flawless cast. Amy Adams, so good in everything, is a dream here as faux-British manipulator extraordinaire. Her exposed breastplate — revealed in every dress she wears — might be her co-star in the film. Her dresses plunge so far down they reach terminal velocity before they find hips, knees, toes … whatever fleshy landmark they can. It's a sexy adult role, one she hammers out of the park in each scene. Cooper, who is perfect in these kind of ego-maniacal roles, matches her pace at every step. Jennifer Lawrence, so good it's almost cliché, is a joy, as is Renner, another young wonder.
Really, though, it all comes back to Bale: he owns this drama from top to bottom. I especially enjoyed the opening scene, in which Bale's Irving Rosenfeld glues up a piece of fake hair and applies it to his head. This is the base, the foundation for his Trump-like do. Then he swings that big Ernie McKracken hair flap over the fresh turf and glues it down. Some more glue, some hairspray, some tweaking, more hairspray, and voila, Irving Rosenfeld everyone, literally a self-made man. America was made by men like Irving, and that's OK with me.
Central to the case is Camden Mayor Carmine Polito (Jeremy Renner), who seems to know everyone and proves to be the Kevin Bacon of the ABSCAM's Six Degrees of Separation. He takes a strong liking to Irving, which guilts him to no end because he knows Carmine's going to be the fall guy for his scheme. Family man and all-around nice guy, Mayor Polito even gives Irving a microwave, which Irving calls a "science oven." He pleads with Rosalyn, don't put metal in it. Rosalyn, fidgeting and neurotic with a thick Joy-zee accent, promptly puts metal in it and nearly burns the house down.
Really, though, it all comes back to Bale: he owns this drama from top to bottom. I especially enjoyed the opening scene, in which Bale's Irving Rosenfeld glues up a piece of fake hair and applies it to his head. This is the base, the foundation for his Trump-like do. Then he swings that big Ernie McKracken hair flap over the fresh turf and glues it down. Some more glue, some hairspray, some tweaking, more hairspray, and voila, Irving Rosenfeld everyone, literally a self-made man. America was made by men like Irving, and that's OK with me.
