American Hustle

There is a joyous thrilling complexity to American Hustle that is nearly unknown in current cinema.  David O. Russell directs.  He co-wrote the smart and sure script with Eric Singer.  During the entire compelling, tight wire dance, character credibility remains consistent, albeit marvelously layered.  The ensemble cast carries this off with astonishing skill.

Christian Bale engages and endears even through tinted aviators and a randomly elaborate comb over.  And now, I must digress into the hair.  There is said comb over, with glued hair piece; a pompadour; the coke-head's obsessive tiny rollers; hair piled and streaked;  tresses curled and crimped.  Hair deserves a credit in this film, as it is practically a character.

Amy Adams plays a sharp bright beam of coppery intention.  Bradley Cooper gets to go bright eyed as the intensely manic wild card.   Jennifer Lawrence plays the wily shimmering goddess of chaos to perfection.  You may never hear "Live and Let Die" the same way again, or be able to dust the house without it.

The use of music is both flawless and memorable, a rare combination.  Camera work manages to be intimate without being intrusive. There is humor, but not at anyone's expense.  There is tenderness, but suggested not indulged.  There is a confidence in connections between humans and all the complexity that connection involves and reveals.

See it for the hair, the humor, the hustle.  Just see it.