American Hustle

American Hustle is based on the Abscam sting operation of the late 70s and early 80s, but David O. Russell’s loose ensemble piece is more giddily concerned with the dysfunctional lives of key players involved in a scheme in which FBI agents posed as wealthy sheikhs to ensnare public officials, including an otherwise altruistic New Jersey mayor (Renner).

These players include a two-bit con duo, Irving (Bale) and Sydney (Adams), the former’s volatile wife (Lawrence), and the self-deluded FBI upstart (Cooper) who forces the con artists to help him catch the politicians; the fed later sets his sights on some mobsters, too. The frequently hilarious fun of American Hustle is in watching its neurotic collection of blunderers, gamely played by a mostly excellent cast, clash and fall, often undone by their desire to become anything else in the world but who they actually are.

In accommodating its various divergences and eccentricities, the film – which does lag slightly in its first act – is unwieldy even at the best of times, though its frothy nature largely works as a cumulative whole. One nagging issue is that the selection of the era's famous songs on the soundtrack quite often score scenes in a distractingly nonsensical fashion; the context in which Goodbye Yellow Brick Road is used is particularly jarring.

There’s also the problem that Bale, attempting a De Niro impression in both mannerisms and weight gain, seems to have missed the memo that this is a comedy – although, like the best of the screwball genre, from which O. Russell’s films share characteristics, the emotional beats along the way do hit their mark. Somewhat in keeping with its narrative’s spectacle of deception, the comedown of this sugar rush of a film might not reveal the most nutritious consumption, but sometimes the messiest concoctions have a better taste.