Caught Stealing: Aronofsky Goes Lethal

by Emma Batterman

Academy Award nominee Darren Aronofsky’s newest film is a far cry from the director’s usual artistic flair. Set in the grimy New York cityscape of the late ‘90s, Caught Stealing (2025) stars Austin Butler as Hank, an unassuming bartender past his prime who is helplessly yanked into the city’s violent criminal underbelly. A former baseball prodigy with a drinking problem, Hank is involuntarily swept up in the business of his punk neighbor Russ, played by Matt Smith. When strange men come knocking and demand Russ’ whereabouts, Hank feigns ignorance before they beat him bloody, leaving his crumpled figure lying in a pool of his own urine. From here, Hank’s misfortune only escalates as corrupt cops, the Russian mafia, and Jewish mobsters swarm him looking for drug money Russ has supposedly stashed away—drug money they think Hank has access to. As Hank faces threats and abuse towards himself and his loved ones, he’s gradually forced to reckon with his own self worth as he faces the anguish of both his future and his past. 

Feeling more like it belongs on the shelf of ‘90s action flicks such as Point Break (1991) or The Fugitive (1993), Aronofsky deviates heavily from his prior work. Unlike the director’s previous films (such as his recent 2022 Oscar-winning project The Whale), Caught Stealing doesn’t seem to concern itself with any deeper message hidden beneath its surface. His voice still peaks through the shallow narrative, however, in his inimitable ability to create a believably frenzied tempo. Butler’s character is shoved into peril at every turn. Despite Hank’s genuine attempts to mediate each criminal coalition he’s involved in, almost everyone he meets is out for blood. Characters are murdered mid-sentence and betrayals are almost a guarantee as Hank’s innocence is hacked away in a whiplash of brutality and absurdity. Helped along by the deliberately frantic editing, the audience is barely given a moment to breathe before we’re thrown into the next break-neck sequence of car chases and gun fights. Yet, while still given space in the film’s climax, Hank’s addiction and deteriorating self-image are nevertheless second to kitschy blockbuster action sequences and amusing plights with outlandish characters. Gone is the existential grief and self-destructive obsession that permeates prior works such as The Fountain (2006) and Black Swan (2010). Instead, plot holes are ignored and plot armor is embraced all in the service of delivering an entertaining story. 

Admittedly, Aronofsky’s greatest achievement with this film was taking a rather middling screenplay and crafting it into something notable. While his distinct tone is noticeably absent, there is evident skill on display in the careful camerawork and attention to detail in each frame. The most striking example of such skill is present in the interspersed imagery of Hank’s past haunt: a career-ending car crash straight into a concrete pole. In lieu of what could have been another frenetic crisis mirroring Hank’s current tribulations, Aronofsky dials back the hurried tempo. The crushed metal of the hood and broken glass from the windshield slowly wrap around the frigid beam like soft fabric, clashing with the devastation it reaps. It’s moments like these—where his extensive experience in directorial craft is evident—that make the film shine, despite existing few and far between. 

Butler still puts on a convincing performance as a former athlete forced to think on his feet despite little dramatic material to accentuate Hank against any of the actor’s recent performances. I sympathized with Hank considerably. Giving credit where credit is due, our protagonist has thankfully been endowed with the gift of reason. Almost every decision Hank makes is the right one in spite of his glaring alcoholism and waning superiority complex. Butler portrayed his character’s frustration and fear in parallel with the audience as the rug gets pulled from under him in the suddenness of treachery and violence. Alongside Butler stands a stacked roster featuring Zoë Kravitz, Regina King, Bad Bunny, Griffin Dunne, and more. The performances did not disappoint, with the cast delivering both humor and impressive physicality in the film’s extensive action sequences. Smith particularly stands out as the foul-mouthed Russ, a cockney British drug dealer with an impressive mohawk that sets off the film’s chain of events. Despite the lack of hard-hitting material to work with, the performances were easily a highlight as the actors’ comedic timing and convincing portrayals partially soothed my overall disquiet. 

Nevertheless, Aronofsky’s latest venture left me in the middle of the road, between underwhelmed and entertained. Having established himself in the realm of dramatic cinema, Aronofsky’s voice was distinctly absent throughout most of its runtime. As a fan of his work, I went in expecting something that pierced deeper than what this film had intended through its plain insistence on surface level character arcs and sudden violence. Well-choreographed fight scenes, good performances, and occasional flickers of the director’s signature craft and skill weren’t enough to stave off the underlying disappointment I held as I left the theater. Whether or not this pivot to mainstream audiences in the form of a dark-comedy-crime-thriller will prevail in the artist’s future remains unknown. I can only hope his future projects will satisfy my own high expectations of his work—a bar he set himself as a master of his craft. I was still charmed, however, when I found myself laughing out loud at its ridiculousness and flinching at its cruelty. Despite my discontent, I have no trouble admitting it was an enjoyable ride. Though stopping short of any real compelling narrative, Caught Stealing nonetheless manages to deliver an engaging action-packed thriller with plenty of laughs and lively characters.