For ‘Crime 101,’ the action is the juice, even if it knows ‘Heat’ too well

It’s nearly impossible to resist Michael Mann’s 1995 crime epic “Heat” — especially for filmmakers who can’t ignore the siren call to make their own Los Angeles-based showdown featuring a psychologically complex relationship between a perfectionist robber and an obsessive cop (e.g., “Den of Thieves,” “Wrath of Man”). British writer-director Bart Layton, who previously made the quirky art heist thriller “American Animals,” now offers up his version of “Heat” with “Crime 101,” based on a 2020 novella by Don Winslow, about a jewel thief who never strays far from the 101.

An opening sequence follows the meticulous preparations of our thief, Davis (Chris Hemsworth) — a ritual that entails an almost “American Psycho”-level of cleanliness, soundtracked to the soothing intonation of a guided meditation. The coo of these affirmations knit together our main characters in a montage: Davis and his victims, a trio of diamond dealers whose extensive security measures are in vain, as well as the morning routines of schlubby LAPD detective Lou Lubesnick (Mark Ruffalo) and image-conscious insurance broker Sharon (Halle Berry).

A guided meditation soundtrack underneath an armed robbery is an ironic juxtaposition and it becomes a motif throughout, a representation of a wellness-obsessed modern Los Angeles, as well as a nod to our characters’ desire to achieve some kind of serenity and control within the chaos of their lives. If that wasn’t obvious enough, sometimes they gaze up at real estate billboards that read, “Be here now.” Lou takes up yoga; Sharon is partial to green smoothies. (L.A., am I right?)

This is just one way “Crime 101” completely whiffs the subtext. Everything is out on the surface. Characters state the obvious and the dialogue has the delicacy of a sledgehammer. One character is so directly blunt, it’s almost laughable.

That would be Maya (Monica Barbaro), who, in “Heat” terms, plays the lonely Eady to Hemsworth’s all-business Neil McCauley: a love interest who barrels into this smooth operator out of the blue (she literally rear-ends him) and awakens a desire for a real relationship in the lone wolf who lives by the beach in an anonymous condo.

Once you start mapping “Heat” onto “Crime 101,” it’s hard to stop making the connections. Lou is a Pacino-like Vincent Hanna type, a driven, principled cop with problems at home — his wife (Jennifer Jason Leigh) dumps him in a diner because he’s a workaholic. Money (Nick Nolte), Davis’ fixer, is his Jon Voight-esque Nate; when Davis balks after a job almost goes sideways, Money tosses the gig to Ormon (Barry Keoghan), an upstart with a dirt bike and no qualms about violence. Yup, he’s the film’s Waingro — an element of chaos that rattles Davis to his core. He sets up one last job, luring Sharon, the disaffected insurance broker, into a high-stakes robbery scheme.

Layton maintains a simmering tension throughout, demonstrating a commitment to gritty SoCal locations, a few bang-up action sequences and nifty reveals. But the script relies on too much plot to keep it moving forward and the dialogue lacks nuance, inference or any semblance of how people actually speak. At one point, Sharon’s boss (Paul Adelstein) is blatantly, almost hilariously ageist to her, even stating her age in case we didn’t get what he meant.

Hemsworth moves well, but he feels tight playing a stoic — this kind of role is not in his strike zone as a performer and he doesn’t connect. But Keoghan, with his white-blond mop top and colorful windbreakers, is wildly compelling as yet another broken-doll boy, simultaneously unpredictable and vulnerable. The film comes alive with him on screen, as it does with Ruffalo, because of the strong characterization that both actors bring to their roles. Everyone else feels cookie-cutter or simply alien.

Layton strives to capture L.A. and he gets parts of it right: the side streets and strip malls and streaky headlights at night. But he fumbles with the fixation on Los Angeles wellness culture. Is it a running theme — or a joke? The bit remains frustratingly shallow, when there’s so much opportunity to plumb what it means to seek solace in smoothies and faux spirituality. All the meditation and yoga make the movie soft when it should be hard. The script ties itself in knots trying to make Davis a good guy, when he would be far more interesting if he wasn’t.

“Crime 101” overstays its welcome with bland story filler, but there’s no denying that it is handsomely made and rarely boring, offering the nominal pleasures of a good-looking serious adult crime drama, all too rare these days. After all, for some of us L.A. crime movie junkies, off-brand “Heat” is better than no “Heat” at all.

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