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| Images Courtesy of Persimmon |
The heist
genre is filled with various interpretations of the criminal underworld and the
professionals who dwell within it. Joshua Cassar Gaspar's debut
feature film, The Theft of the Caravaggio, turns the cliches of the
genre on its head by presenting a real-life historical heist via two timelines
that both focus on the dramatic implications rather than the criminal
elements. The result is a mixed bag, with interesting visual compositions
that are lessened with copious amounts of exposition.
1984.
In Malta, a painting by famous Italian artist Caravaggio is stolen.
A priest, Orpheus, is drawn into the police investigation, where his
personal life and his faith are tested as various secrets are revealed.
Gaspar wrote the script with Monika Maslowska. There are interesting
ideas that are dappled throughout what initially seems to be a paint by numbers
procedural, particularly when it comes to Orpheus and his familial problems as
they come into conflict with his profession. Another layer of intrigue is
added when Hades (yes the names are Orpheus and Hades) enters the narrative and
his thoughtful exchanges with the embattled priest becomes the centerpiece.
Paul Kissaun
gives his role as Orpheus everything, completely vanishing into the performance.
His interplay with Robert Grose's Hades is both languid and disparate, as the
two verbally fence and simultaneously meditate on the past. This is
ultimately what Gaspar is concerned with, how the past sends waves into the
future with the potential to both create and destroy and the overall result
comes close to the mark.
Shot on film,
Daniel Cawthorne's cinematography balances the lush world of the church against
the dusty, sun-washed streets of the city. Despite the lack of foreign
language, everything feels as if it is transpiring not just in decades long
passed, but also in a place far beyond the confines of the West. Johann
Scerri's immaculate production design is the perfect accoutrement, filling the
interiors with vibrant colors and meticulously placed works of art. The
final yield is an above average offering that delivers the goods visually but
lacks a certain amount of depth.
Now available
for digital rental, The Theft of the Caravaggio explores a real
historical caper in a more soulful manner, allowing its ideas to gestate within
a world of politics, art, and crime. Carried
by a handful of powerful performances, its pacing may be a turn off; however,
viewers who are looking for an introspective approach to a tried and true formula,
may find something of value.
--Kyle
Jonathan