THE THOMAS CROWN AFFAIR
A Monet painting worth $100 million is stolen from New York's Metropolitan
Museum of Art. Though no one suspects him at first, the perpetrator was
none other than the building's owner, millionaire playboy Thomas Crown (Pierce
Brosnan). Did he do it because he loved the painting? Or because he wanted
to sell it and cash in? No. He did it for excitement, just like wrecking
expensive catamarans and betting thousands of dollars on golf shots. He's
bored, you see, with all his money, and makes a sport of taking huge risks
and wasting millions. He doesn't want the painting; he just did it for fun.
Assigned to solve the case is detective Michael McCann (Denis Leary),
but he soon finds he has unwanted company. Catherine Banning (Rene Russo),
a representative of the painting's underwriters, shows up to help, and immediately
suspects Crown. While McCann is trying to go through the proper channels,
Catherine gets right to the heart of the matter. She insinuates herself
into Crown's life, practically becoming his girlfriend, and the two of them
do their best to outsmart each other. The trouble is, when she begins to
seriously fall for him, and he for her, their conflicting goals become increasingly
uncomfortable. While Catherine struggles to choose between marrying Crown
and arresting him, McCann continues his quest for justice — even if
it means busting them both.
This film is cute, with many twists and turns, and gives us beautifully
rich vistas of how the other half lives. But it suffers from one devastating
problem: the believability of the relationship between Crown and Catherine,
which is the hinge pin of the whole story. Brosnan and Russo both do fine
with their separate parts, but their relationship seems too rushed to be
plausible. The idea of both of them contradicting their sworn passions completely
for each other, after having just met, is too much to swallow. Catherine's
character, as she is introduced early in the film, is a shrewd, wily career
woman ready to use her seductive powers to outsmart her quarry; near the
film's end she becomes a jealous schoolgirl, pouting when she sees him with
another woman.
Meanwhile, Brosnan is so busy being James-Bond cool, he fails to convince
us that he really cares for Catherine at all. Throughout the film Crown
is seen talking to his psychiatrist (played stupidly by Faye Dunaway, the
female lead in the 1968 version of the film — a cute touch — perhaps
too cute), and he admits that he could never trust a woman enough to fall
in love. This is to assure that we will suspect his motives in his relationship
with Catherine, as does she. But he and director McTiernan never give us
a reason to come around to the other point of view. His suave, debonair
façade is never removed; even though he says he cares for her, we
don't see this even in his private moments.
The film's quirky plot is nicely underscored by Bill Conti's frenetic piano music, its twist ending is enjoyable, and the sexy romance reveals a surprising amount of flesh for a couple over 40 (Russo spends about half the film with no top). It is generally a satisfying mystery-thriller, but the relationship flaws tend to hamstring the film's credibility. ****