In a dazzling display of musical anachronism, director George Roy Hill decided to serenade his audience with Scott Joplin's ragtime beats from the turn of the century, all while parading around 1930s depression-era Chicago. If you thought this mismatch was a clever historical twist, think again. Hill seems to be allergic to historical authenticity, opting for a vibe that's more cartoonish than a Looney Tunes marathon.
Our journey kicks off in Joliet, Illinois, where we meet Johnny Hooker (Robert Redford), a grifter with a heart of gold and a penchant for relieving others of their hard-earned cash. Joined by his partner Luther Coleman (Robert Earl Jones), they manage to swindle $11,000 from the pockets of a lowly courier working for Irish American crime boss Doyle Lonnegan (Robert Shaw). But hey, it's okay, because Lonnegan is officially a certified bad guy, and apparently, that's a get-out-of-jail-free card.
While it's commendable that by 1973, racial stereotypes had taken a back seat, Luther Coleman, despite being a grifter, feels as weightless as a soap bubble. When Lonnegan decides to play the role of the ultimate buzzkill by bumping off Coleman, Hooker's quest for revenge begins, leading him to the Windy City.
Following Coleman's posthumous suggestion, Hooker seeks help from Henry Gondorff (Paul Newman), a carousel operator doubling as a brothel frontman. The problem? Newman is too young for the part, and the father-son dynamic feels as forced as a bad punchline. Gondorff, like Hooker, lacks the grifter grit, and we're expected to empathize with him solely because his target is, you guessed it, another bad guy.
The duo concocts an obsolete scam called "The Wire," involving a fake OTB parlor and a bunch of small-time crooks sworn to secrecy. Miraculously, everything unfolds flawlessly, leaving the sophisticated Lonnegan scratching his head. Gondorff even manages to cheat Lonnegan out of $15,000 in a poker game on the 20th Century Limited, with Hooker masquerading as associate 'Kelly' planning a hostile takeover.
The con evolves into an elaborate charade where Gondorff's crew, posing as painters, hijacks a Western Union office. Meanwhile, Lonnegan, still nursing a grudge from the initial con, knowingly keeps Hooker close while aiming to eliminate him. The twist comes when Gondorff, with a mix of deduction and luck, figures out that diner waitress Loretta is, in fact, the assassin Salino. Behold, a revelation so breathtakingly unexpected, it makes the plot twists of classic whodunits look like a game of tic-tac-toe between toddlers. Brace yourselves, folks - the sarcasm detectors might just explode.
In a climax as contrived as a poorly written soap opera, Lonnegan is primed for a double whammy, convinced that a $500K bet on Lucky Dan is a guaranteed win. However, the convoluted scenario reaches peak absurdity when the tipster tells Lonnegan to "place it" instead of the proper racing vernacular, "bet on Lucky Dan to place." Of course, Lonnegan loses, making the whole plot sound like a bad dad joke.
The movie concludes with Gondorff seemingly gunning down Hooker, only for FBI agents to reveal it's all part of the con. The fake blood washes off, Lonnegan is escorted away by an unwitting police detective, and Hooker decides to ditch his share of the cash, claiming he'd just gamble it away anyway. Redford and Newman, unfortunately, are left playing lightweight, lovable grifters devoid of realism, while Shaw's tough crime boss steals the show.
Watch "The Sting" for the killer soundtrack, snazzy "Saturday Evening Post" title cards, award winning costumes and vintage auto eye candy. Otherwise, you're left with a film boasting a plot thinner than a paper-thin crust pizza, undeservedly clutching an Academy Award for Best Picture.
Our journey kicks off in Joliet, Illinois, where we meet Johnny Hooker (Robert Redford), a grifter with a heart of gold and a penchant for relieving others of their hard-earned cash. Joined by his partner Luther Coleman (Robert Earl Jones), they manage to swindle $11,000 from the pockets of a lowly courier working for Irish American crime boss Doyle Lonnegan (Robert Shaw). But hey, it's okay, because Lonnegan is officially a certified bad guy, and apparently, that's a get-out-of-jail-free card.
While it's commendable that by 1973, racial stereotypes had taken a back seat, Luther Coleman, despite being a grifter, feels as weightless as a soap bubble. When Lonnegan decides to play the role of the ultimate buzzkill by bumping off Coleman, Hooker's quest for revenge begins, leading him to the Windy City.
Following Coleman's posthumous suggestion, Hooker seeks help from Henry Gondorff (Paul Newman), a carousel operator doubling as a brothel frontman. The problem? Newman is too young for the part, and the father-son dynamic feels as forced as a bad punchline. Gondorff, like Hooker, lacks the grifter grit, and we're expected to empathize with him solely because his target is, you guessed it, another bad guy.
The duo concocts an obsolete scam called "The Wire," involving a fake OTB parlor and a bunch of small-time crooks sworn to secrecy. Miraculously, everything unfolds flawlessly, leaving the sophisticated Lonnegan scratching his head. Gondorff even manages to cheat Lonnegan out of $15,000 in a poker game on the 20th Century Limited, with Hooker masquerading as associate 'Kelly' planning a hostile takeover.
The con evolves into an elaborate charade where Gondorff's crew, posing as painters, hijacks a Western Union office. Meanwhile, Lonnegan, still nursing a grudge from the initial con, knowingly keeps Hooker close while aiming to eliminate him. The twist comes when Gondorff, with a mix of deduction and luck, figures out that diner waitress Loretta is, in fact, the assassin Salino. Behold, a revelation so breathtakingly unexpected, it makes the plot twists of classic whodunits look like a game of tic-tac-toe between toddlers. Brace yourselves, folks - the sarcasm detectors might just explode.
In a climax as contrived as a poorly written soap opera, Lonnegan is primed for a double whammy, convinced that a $500K bet on Lucky Dan is a guaranteed win. However, the convoluted scenario reaches peak absurdity when the tipster tells Lonnegan to "place it" instead of the proper racing vernacular, "bet on Lucky Dan to place." Of course, Lonnegan loses, making the whole plot sound like a bad dad joke.
The movie concludes with Gondorff seemingly gunning down Hooker, only for FBI agents to reveal it's all part of the con. The fake blood washes off, Lonnegan is escorted away by an unwitting police detective, and Hooker decides to ditch his share of the cash, claiming he'd just gamble it away anyway. Redford and Newman, unfortunately, are left playing lightweight, lovable grifters devoid of realism, while Shaw's tough crime boss steals the show.
Watch "The Sting" for the killer soundtrack, snazzy "Saturday Evening Post" title cards, award winning costumes and vintage auto eye candy. Otherwise, you're left with a film boasting a plot thinner than a paper-thin crust pizza, undeservedly clutching an Academy Award for Best Picture.