Will Smith appears to be at a career crossroads. While his fans would scoff at such a suggestion, the truth is that, in Hollywood, he’s gone from “sure thing” to “question mark”. Ever since 2007’s I Am Legend, his efforts have been underwhelming at best. (We’re not even counting the cash grab that is Men in Black III; that movie made money, but it more or less killed the franchise.) Between Hancock, Seven Pounds, After Earth, and Winter’s Tale, he’s been associated with more mediocrity than Independence Day blockbusting.
Focus should change all that — at least, temporarily. While Smith is already prepping for his next roles (as part of a film on the NFL and concussions, and as Deadshot in DC’s Suicide Squad epic), those who remember Big Willie as a fun, fierce onscreen presence will adore his work in this clever con-artist romp. Co-starring Margot Robbie as a huckster in training and helmed by the dynamic duo of Glenn Ficarra and John Requa, this is the Smith we’ve come to expect: lithe, witty, and when need be, a total badass. (While you’re at it, do yourself a favor and seek out Ficarra and Requa’s criminally underrated Jim Carrey project I Love You Phillip Morris — you’ll be glad you did.)
The rap icon turned film superstar plays Nicky Spungeon, a flimflam man whose never known a life outside the game. Raised on the streets and capable of turning something like Super Bowl week into a multimillion dollar hustle, he runs into Robbie’s Jess Barrett as she’s trying to scam a mark in an fancy hotel. Calling her out, he agrees to become her mentor. It’s not long before they are in New Orleans with a large group of assistants, fleecing football fans out of their hard-earned wares. After a big con with a very high roller, Nick gets cold feet and sends Jess packing. She is devastated.
Three years later, they meet up again in Buenos Aires. He’s working for a Grand Prix race car owner named Garriga (Rodrigo Santoro). She’s his current arm candy. At first, they both agree to avoid each other. But Nick has a hard time keeping his feelings to himself. Throughout, Garriga hopes to slip false information to the competition, creating an advantage for his team in the process. While Nick tries to maintain focus and find a way back into Jess’s good graces, it appears that their naturally affection for each other will lead them both to ruin. Or riches. Or both.
As if her work in The Wolf of Wall Street wasn’t enough to convince you, Australian actress Margot Robbie is an A-lister in the making. In this, her second significant movie role on our shores, she beams with a kind of breathless beauty that only comes with a combination of looks and likeability. She doesn’t play to the porcelain ice queen type like her fellow Aussie Nicole Kidman, and her personality mixes the mysterious with the mischievous. She’s the perfect foil for Smith, himself a mash-up of the silly and the savvy. You never know what you’re going to get when he appears in a film. Sometimes, he’s all bravado. Other instances, like here, he’s complicated and completely self-effacing.
For a film like Focus to work then, these two have to have indescribable chemistry, and they do. Without that electric connection, the viewer grows restless and then, god forbid, the narrative comes under scrutiny. In this case, Ficarra and Requa try to bring something different to the cinematic shell game, and for the most part it works. Instead of the basic ins and outs, Nick gives Jess a more psychological rundown on how the swindle works. Yes, it’s all about misdirection and confidence, but there are some other insights and tricks thrown in to give the moments more bite. This is especially true of the midway point reveal in NOLA. How that double-cross worked remains a well honed grifter mystery.
In essence, Focus is a rom-com with dimension. There’s substance in the meet cute and a real threat of danger in the will they or won’t they. Once Garriga and his henchmen come into play (including Gerald McRaney as a goon with a gift for gab greater than Smith’s), the movie kind of loses steam. It’s time to play wrap up and, frankly, we don’t want to see Smith and Robbie “return” to the real world. Indeed, Focus finds a way to keep us fully engaged even when the various pros and cons are taking us to places we’ve been to dozens of times before.
Still, this is one of the better movies made about the con game, and that goes directly to Ficarra and Requa’s main strength. They understand their material, and make sure the audience does as well. They are equally good at setting up characters. When they pay off, the results are amazing (see Phillip Morris). When they don’t, as in the odd Crazy, Stupid, Love, we still don’t mind the journey to such shoulder shrugging. The duo still need to find a voice — slick and polished is not an aesthetic — and there are times, like a pre-Robbie sequence with Smith, where their lack of vision clouds our perception.
On the other hand, the duo deserves credit for treading where others have gone and succeeded before (see The Sting, The Talented Mr. Ripley, and numerous other examples of the genre). Focus won’t inspire fawning praise or wicked rejection. Instead, it’s a solid Hollywood entertainment, and when you consider when it’s being released, that’s both a blessing and a curse. We critics are lucky something this likeable came along in the middle of the winter wasteland of post-awards season. Hopefully, audiences overlook the familiarity to find the freshness and fun within.