The new con-artist thriller Sharper is arriving in theaters on February 10 (a week ahead of its debut on AppleTV+) with dismayingly little fanfare when it should instead be celebrated. The film, from director Benjamin Caron and writers Brian Gatewood and Alessandro Tanaka, is something vanishingly rare in today’s woebegone cinematic climate: a movie that, to borrow a phrase from a recent Grammys villain, feels like a movie. Sharper is sinewy and clever, a keenly acted and written B-picture of the sort that were once myriad but now only come around once every few years.
Sharper is built in segments, each following a different character caught in a web of lies and avarice. In the first part we meet Tom (Justice Smith), an unassuming (if dreamy) book store clerk who has a meet-cute with a customer, Sandra (Brianna Middleton). They share a bookish rapport, but Sandra is initially guarded against Tom’s gentle advances. When she does eventually agree to a date (later that day), she and Tom prove a natural fit. We watch as they fall in love over the subsequent weeks, building a glamorous little bohemian life together. That cozy swoon is emboldened by Caron and the cinematographer Charlotte Bruus Christensen’s choice to shoot on film; instead of the plastic dullness of a toss-off digital Netflix thriller, we get the grain and light of what movies used to look like.
Inevitably, trouble knocks on the besotted couple’s door. Sandra’s brother is in a bad spot and needs money. Tom reveals that, well, he’s got a sizable trust fund granted to him by his zillionaire father. Problem solved? No, of course not. Thus Sharper begins its crafty game, circling back on characters to reveal true intentions, or at least another layer of deception. Middleton takes center stage for a bit; then an alluring creep named Max (Sebastian Stan) moves to the fore. Finally there’s a smooth society lady, Madeline, played by a coolly radiant Julianne Moore.
As Sharper snakes its way along, Caron guides with a steady and confident hand. It’s an auspicious feature film debut, artful and polished while still mindful of the crucial mechanics of a twisty thriller. I’m sure Caron has ambitions beyond this kind of elegant pulp, but if he wanted to make a dozen more movies in this exact vein I’d eagerly welcome them.
Maybe a few of them could star Moore. In Sharper, the venerable actor returns to the flintiness and purr that has defined some of her best work. Moore got her start acting in soap operas, a particular skill set that she deftly deploys in Sharper. She’s so good at pushing things right up to the edge of camp without becoming silly; Moore is a consummate entertainer, carefully aware of her duty to keep things compelling. She’s got crackling chemistry with Stan, these two conniving sexpots doing terrible things with a hungry glint in their eyes.
Middleton is another standout, a relative newcomer who seizes a large, ever-shifting role with the ease and glide of an old pro. Like the rest of her cast mates, she seems invigorated by the snap and sophistication of the project. Middleton also deftly spars Stan, who has become one of the more reliable dark princes of the acting world—when he isn’t stuck glooming it up in various Marvel projects. Stan seems purpose built for a movie like Sharper, which asks him to be dashing and petulant, ruthless and bratty. He, Middleton, Moore, and the rest delight in the fun, substantial roles handed to them.
Would that there were many more like them. Maybe 20 years ago, a movie like this wouldn’t seem so precious; it’s possible Sharper only feels like a satisfying meal because we are so otherwise starved. But these are the times we’re living in, so I’m perfectly willing to declare Sharper one of those direly needed movies that they just don’t make anymore. It’s a stylish and engaging film that dares to be nothing more than a literate good time. It’s, to put it frankly, one of the best movies of 2023.
Though the movie will be streaming into your homes soon enough, consider seeking it out in theaters if you can. Perhaps a little box office success could encourage studios to produce more movies like Sharper, rather than churning out yet another mystery that’s been agonizingly stretched out over ten tedious hours. If it helps, just think of Sharper as a super-limited series—though, limited only in length.
