Darren Aronofsky has had an interesting career thus far. After an auspicious beginning with his intriguing and minimalist debut Pi, the sadistic cult classic Requiem for a Dream, and the ambitious but ultimately unsuccessful sci-fi opus The Fountain, Aronofsky became a legitimate force with The Wrestler and Black Swan, both of which were serious awards contenders with huge audience appeal. Throughout his first decade working in film, he cemented himself as a performer’s dream director, guiding many of his stars to career-best work and a bundle of Oscars. Noah and mother! spelled out a new religious-themed ambitious streak, both divided audiences and failed to make much of a splash at the box office, despite their big swings. The Whale won Brendan Fraser a deserved Oscar but, performance championing aside, felt like a strange departure for the once-auteur with many calling it misery porn (which certainly wouldn’t be new territory). With Caught Stealing, a straightforward crime saga that plays like a Lower East Side Guy Ritchie knock-off, I am not entirely sure where the formal ambition and auteurist vision that once defined Aronofsky has gone but it seems we are yet again in unchartered territory. And not always in a good way.
