James (Sam Riley), the crewmember most dubious of Thom’s inclusion in their ranks, asks how it is that this English kid has transitioned from unassuming student to criminal in a matter of three days, and it’s difficult to tell whether the filmmakers are intentionally embedding this revealing self-critique into the story. Rather than misleading us into feeling concern or affection-as in Lev Kuleshov’s early-1920s experiments with montage-the film’s direction simply gives us no sense of this character. As the new initiate, Thom serves as our vantage point on The Vault’s clan of sailor-thieves, but every cut to a reaction shot of his face shows Highmore assuming the same bemused, slightly bored expression, as if Balagueró were trying to trick us into seeing something different depending on what the preceding shot was. It’s hard to comprehend what Lorraine sees in Thom, since Balagueró appears to be using Highmore to stage some kind of extended, and ultimately unsuccessful, Kuleshov experiment. There’s no discernible character arc that emerges to explain or dramatize his entrée into a world of clandestine thievery: He signs up, and every once in a while, he supplies Walter’s crew with a clever idea, while the one woman in their circle, Lorraine (Astrid Bergès-Frisbey), inexplicably makes eyes at him. Thom is defined in the vaguest terms as an idealist who wants to put his genius toward good causes, and his journey from do-gooder engineer to land-lubbing privateer is as abrupt as the later revelation of his multilingualism. He recruits Thom, a recent Oxbridge graduate and purportedly brilliant mechanical engineer, to help them devise a way of breaking into a complex safe in the basement of the Bank of Spain. Simmering with Brexit-auguring resentment (the story is set between 20) at the continentals who have sapped Britain’s patrimonial wealth, Walter converts his crew into bank robbers. Speaking of hidden, Walter and his multinational crew are shipwreck salvagers whose long-desired haul of sunken treasure-golden coins on which are encoded the coordinates to a larger cache buried by Sir Francis Drake-was seized by the Spanish government because they were in the latter’s national waters. Only a later remark from the group’s leader, Walter (Liam Cunningham), about Thom’s “hidden talents” remotely justifies their strangely muted reaction. The Vault almost appears ashamed to dwell on Thom’s abruptly revealed multilingualism, for fear of calling too much attention to how curious it is that his fellow thieves were seemingly unaware of his Spanish skills when they were planning a heist in Spain. A convenient contrivance rather than a clever reveal, this moment comes off like a hasty decision in the writers’ room. Our main character, scruffy young Englishman Thom (Freddie Highmore), disguised as a Spanish janitor and cornered by bank security guards in the midst of suspicious activity, suddenly speaks passable Spanish. That Jaume Balagueró’s The Vault presents little more than hollow echoes of the genre’s standardized but often delightful beats is illustrated by a scene that replaces the grand escape with an easy out. ![]() Heist movies tend to revel in sleight of hand, misleading us into traps that seem to result from a conspiracy between the filmmakers and their story’s master criminals.
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