What we talk about when we talk about robbing banks
A heist to steal my heart
The romance of gangsterism looks to be America's most durable contribution to world folklore. — Geoffrey O’Brien
There is too much television for anyone to watch. Less remarked upon is the fact that there is too much television for anyone to write.
Did you see Kaleidoscope on Netflix? It is a cry for help in the shape of a heist drama. A story told with the skill of a child and the cynicism of a grownup.
Close to 100% of the series’ dialogue is expository, which is how you know the writers hate you. Rather than argue, flirt, or lie, Kaleidoscope’s characters describe the plot of each episode aloud. The show would be better, though not more subtle, if the cast were replaced by mimes. On the part of its creators, this reflects neglect at best and malice at worst, if not flat inability.
What I’m saying is, I disliked the show Kaleidoscope.
At work people complain that a meeting should have been an email. Sometimes a show should have been a movie. While Kaleidoscope could’ve sufficed as an unsent tweet, heists should usually be movies. The original Point Break is one of my all-time favorites, and its logline1 is proof that the best poems aren’t always poems:
To catch bank robbers, FBI agent must learn to surf.
Like many alive men, I feel about Michael Mann’s Heat the way teen girls once felt about The Notebook, or the way Dick Cheney feels about imperialism. More recently, Steve McQueen’s Widows was underrated.
Also underrated: Oceans 8. Cate Blanchett’s wardrobe alone deserved six Oscars.
But now we are overdue for a great heist movie.
Fortunately, I know exactly what to steal.
TO BE CONTINUED.
See you this weekend, dear friends.
aka ~elevator pitch~!