Crime doesn’t pay, but it does help with the bills from time to time. This is the general foundation on which Emily the Criminal is built, which serves to establish this as one of the most unexpectedly fascinating films of the past year. Written and directed by John Patton Ford in his directorial debut, the film tells the story of a young woman who has been struggling for years under enormous debts, which is not made any easier by the fact that she has a prior felony conviction that makes finding a decent job extremely difficult, leading her to take up a life of crime in order to support herself and find a means to escape this dreadfully paltry life she has been forced into living. The film is a fascinating document that looks at the trials and tribulations of an ordinary woman doing whatever she can to survive, even if it means resorting to fraud and theft in order to see a way forward. An audacious introduction to the director, who proves to have quite a distinct point of view, and told with the kind of stark precision we don’t often see from the genre, Emily the Criminal is a fascinating film, a daring and provocative drama about desperation breeding innovation, and the risks many people take in order to ensure that they have the most basic necessities, which can become troublesome once they are labelled as being undesirable under the bewildering restrictions of late-stage capitalism, where someone is only given worth if they are shown to be a productive member of society, which sadly prevents many people – whether intentional or not – from ever achieving enough in life to consider themselves even vaguely successful, or even just allowing them the bare minimum to survive.

Emily the Criminal is not the kind of crime drama that glamorises the lifestyle of those who engage in professional crime. The characters at the heart of this film are not taking part in these activities to amass a life of luxury and excess, but rather doing it merely to survive. Unfortunately, this paints a truly unsettling portrait of the modern world, in which capitalism and its refusal to help those in need runs rampant, causing many people into a position where they are unable to survive unless they engage in sordid activities. The character of Emily does not want to travel down this road, but she knows that it is the only way she is going to be able to make a life for herself beyond living paycheque-to-paycheque, which is already difficult enough as it stands. The film is a combination of a psychological drama and crime thriller, taking us into the mind of a character who is driven to the point of committing theft, fraud and a range of other crimes solely because it is her only option – and as she immerses herself more in this world, she acknowledges the risks, but also notes how this is a far more prosperous career choice than anything that is considered legal. The film takes a very peculiar stance on morality – everyone involved in these crimes notes how dangerous and immoral the actions are, and none of them necessarily want to be leading lives in which this is something that they do regularly, but considering how much the system has chosen to cheat them, they view it as a well-earned dose of revenge. Ford tempers this side of the story well, never making it seem like he supports these activities, but rather takes an objective approach to exploring a few weeks in the lives of these characters as they desperately try to find a way out, realizing it is not as easy to escape once you have been immersed in such a world.

Aubrey Plaza may not be the actor we’d necessarily expect for this role – she is supremely gifted, and has proven herself to be amongst the most brilliant performers of her generation, whether it be in broad comedies or slightly more experimental fare. Emily the Criminal is a very different kind of role for her – the character is far less complex than the people she ordinarily plays, and it depends less on her deadpan wit and more on her ability to convincingly play on the inherent desperation a character in her position may experience, which required her to veer far more towards the dramatic, which is not always what we’d expect from someone who has established herself as a more satirical voice. However, even at her most comedic, there’s a depth to Plaza that made her a perfect candidate for this role, which undeniably challenges her, but in a way that is meaningful and draws on her talents to take on more subtle work. The film is built entirely around her – there isn’t a single scene in which she does not appear, and we follow her journey as she finds herself thrown into this unsettling world, and Plaza’s performance is so incredibly believable, we start to forget that we are watching a performance, since she commits so entirely to the role. No one else in the film registers on her level, and it is further proof that she is as brilliant a dramatic actor as she is a comedian. They often say those work in comedy tend to have a more thorough view of the darker side of humanity, and this has rarely been more evident in Plaza’s performance, which is deeply moving and profoundly unsettling in how it captures the desperation and desire of someone to emerge out of a difficult situation. A masterful performance from one of the most exciting performers of her generation, and someone who is undeniably going to be considered one great actors of the present day if she continues to choose such compelling and fascinating projects that challenge her to show her many talents.

Much of Emily the Criminal is steeped in social realism – you would think that the absurdity of the premise (which actually turns out to be far more sobering than we’d initially have realized the further Ford dedicates the story to exploring the lives of these people) and the presence of Plaza would lend itself to something slightly more lighthearted – and while there are a few sporadic moments of levity, the film as a whole is a very dark, unsettling portrait of the broken promises of capitalism. However, it is not one that is all that interested in condoning the behaviour of these people – in many ways, the film is entirely objective to their actions, acknowledging the risks these people take and forcing them to face the consequences, which aligns with the director’s refusal to heighten the tension in the hopes that the reward will be more significant. It is driven by a very distinct tone, one in which the stakes are certainly very high, but where the resolution is not satisfying. Emily and her cohorts may successfully get away with one crime, but this is not the end – committing one major act of fraud is not enough to sustain someone for life, and only causes them to continue to engage in these activities, since it is the only way for them to survive. These are characters perpetually on the run, and the film does well in showing the cyclical nature of criminal activity – those who lead such lives are essentially going to keep repeating it, since it becomes part of who they are, their identity. There’s a reason this film is titled Emily the Criminal, since it shows the growth of someone who becomes defined by her immoral vocation, but one that is borne not from her desire to have wealth, but the desperation that leads her to abandon all morality and surrender to the temptation that comes with realizing that there is a way out, granted one is willing to take that risk.

Those expecting an action-packed, wildly entertaining crime drama filled with heists and exciting sequences are likely going to be disappointed with Emily the Criminal, which is a film that is built from a more sinister set of ideas. It is primarily a social commentary, dedicated to exploring working-class malaise, particularly amongst those who strive for better lives, but find themselves hindered by circumstances. Choosing to look at the development of a character who already starts the film with a criminal record (and thus avoids the hackneyed moral dilemma of showing her descent into crime) is a bold decision, since it forces us to look at the protagonist in a way that is sympathetic but not supportive, and we track her journey over time, observing her as she makes various decisions, some of them foolish, others working out surprisingly well. It’s an intense, complex character-driven thriller that pays attention to the most intricate details – Ford is not interested in making it seem like a life of crime does have its benefits, but he is also against creating a film that preaches to the audience, since we all likely know the risks that come with choosing to abandon morals, and the consequences that will very likely ensue. It’s a tense, heartwrenching social drama that is anchored by a magnificent performance from Plaza, and told with a combination of provocative commentary and deep empathy for the working class and how they have been betrayed by oppressive socio-economic systems – and it results in a gritty but powerful manifesto on a range of issues, primarily those that will be very familiar to anyone who has wondered why the rich tend to get richer, and that it is often those who are less fortunate that find themselves in the more challenging positions.