Every opinion I came across about The Only Living Pickpocket in New York before seeing it was positive. I didn’t see a single negative take, and with nothing else to go on, that consensus was carrying all of my expectations. I’m unfamiliar with Noah Segan as a director, as I missed his feature debut, Blood Relatives. I also hadn’t read anything about the story or even looked at who was in the cast. So this was a completely blind experience: no premise, no faces, no clue whether I was walking into a crime thriller or something much sadder. I just hoped the reception I’d been seeing was the real thing.
Harry Lehman (John Turturro, Barton Fink) picks pockets for a living, the old-fashioned way, in a city where almost nobody carries cash anymore. Most of what he lifts gets cancelled before he can use it, and the little he makes goes toward a modest life with his wife, Rosie (Karina Arroyave, Falling Down), who depends on his care. Then he snatches a bag from Dylan (Will Price, A Complete Unknown), the entitled son of a crime family. Inside is a USB stick worth far more than anything Harry has stolen in years. He has no idea what it is, so he gets rid of it. Dylan wants it back, and the clock starts ticking on Harry finding it before his family comes to collect.
The idea of an old-school pickpocket in today’s New York is a good one, and the film gets a lot out of it. Harry works with his hands in a world where almost nothing worth taking is physical anymore. People barely keep money in their wallets, cards are blocked before he’s crossed the street, and there’s a camera on basically every corner watching him work. Tough era for pickpockets, indeed. I appreciated that Segan never stops the movie to explain any of this. It lives in small details, like Harry opening a car door with a penny, or dropping the wallets he’s emptied into a mailbox so their owners get everything else back. There’s a neat irony buried in the plot, too. The most valuable thing Harry has ever stolen is the one thing he can’t recognize as valuable, because its worth exists somewhere he can’t touch.
I’ve never lived in New York. I’ve never even visited. Still, one of my favorite things here is how much of the city it shows beyond Manhattan, which is where nearly every New York film seems to take place. This one spends its time in the other boroughs, in pawnshops and diners and corners of the city that rarely make it to the screen. It feels lived-in instead of another trip through the same few blocks we’ve seen in thousands of other movies. Sam Levy (Lady Bird) shoots it with a lot of care, and I love the final shot. That same specificity is also why The Only Living Pickpocket in New York feels a bit niche. It isn’t inaccessible, far from it, but it clearly speaks most to people who live in New York and understand its environment and culture from the inside. I’d bet it plays much stronger for Americans than for those of us watching from the other side of the Atlantic.
Turturro carries the film, and it isn’t close. He never goes big — Harry isn’t a man who proclaims what he feels, so everything goes into his posture and the small gestures he makes without thinking. There are exceptional microexpressions that come and go in a second, and his eyes keep getting teary while the rest of his face refuses to give anything away.
The best example is his conversation with Kelly (Tatiana Maslany, Stronger). Maslany has a single scene, and she shines tremendously in it. I won’t say what they talk about, but it’s a phenomenal interaction. Turturro barely moves or raises his voice, and his face tells you everything this man has been carrying for years. If anyone ever needs proof of how much he can transmit while saying and doing very little, this is the scene I’d point to.
It’s also where the movie’s balancing act pays off. The Only Living Pickpocket in New York wants you to like Harry, and that’s easy. He polishes his shoes every morning, and he treats strangers with an old-fashioned courtesy. Even his reasons for stealing, keeping a roof over his head and Rosie looked after, are hard to argue with. The film just never pretends that code makes what he does okay. He’s still a thief, the people he robs are still real people, and the life he chose has a cost that others have been paying for a long time. Segan lets both things be true without a speech telling you how to feel about it. From the outside, this might look like a simple crime flick about a lovable crook. It’s more complex than that, as making Harry sympathetic without excusing him is the movie’s biggest win for me.
In general, it feels like an older film, in the best way. The soundtrack leans on old songs about New York that fit the narrative beautifully, especially “New York, I Love You but You’re Bringing Me Down” from LCD Soundsystem, which praises and criticizes the city in the same breath, pretty much like The Only Living Pickpocket in New York does. The score is a technical standout, jazzy and loose, and it makes an already short runtime feel even smoother. The faces from Harry’s past fit that mood too. Detective Warren (Giancarlo Esposito, The Usual Suspects) has spent years on the other side of Harry’s game, and Ben (Steve Buscemi, Fargo) runs a pawnshop that feels like one of the last places in town still running on cash. Both actors are pretty damn good in their roles.
The final act is the weakest stretch. I like that Harry is smart, and watching him get around obstacle after obstacle is a big part of the fun. In the last third, though, the movie turns too thriller-heavy, and everything falls into place a tad too neatly. A certain actor showing up near the end is the clearest example, as their appearance feels out of place, almost as if the whole film had been building toward a big reveal when that couldn’t be far from the most important thing in it. Segan handles the tone well, the humor and the melancholy sit side by side without clashing, but the balance between drama and thriller/heist has its issues. The ending comes off as calculated, although I still appreciate where Harry’s arc lands.
It’s also a rather familiar setup. An aging criminal, one big mistake, a deadline he can’t afford to miss. The writing is earnest and genuine, and the performances sell every bit of it, but the bones of this story are ones I’ve seen plenty of times before.
Final Thoughts on The Only Living Pickpocket in New York
The Only Living Pickpocket in New York is a small, warm, old-fashioned crime drama, and John Turturro carries it with a performance that says a lot without saying much. His one scene with Tatiana Maslany is the highlight, and the film’s trip through a New York far from Manhattan, along with its jazzy score and old songs about the city, gives it real personality. Its best move is making Harry sympathetic without ever excusing him. The final act gets too neat and calculated, a late appearance feels out of place, and all that city specificity will probably land harder with Americans than with the rest of us. I went in hoping all those positive reactions were right. For the most part, they were.
Rating: B
The Only Living Pickpocket in New York releases in theaters on October 30th.
Learn more about the film, including how to watch it, at the official website for the title.
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