John Powers

Yet one can be technically flawless and still be middling.

For a skater, the true measure of greatness is the expressive artistry of the free skate.

For a kabuki actor like Kikuo, what makes you a national treasure isn't merely doing every dance and gesture to perfection, but imbuing them with a huge, almost mythic emotion.

Kikuo captures how wondrous that can be, and the pain required to get there.

If there's anything I miss in pop culture, it's the presence of ordinary movies.

I don't mean blockbusters like Avatar, or cultural events like Barbenheimer, or Oscar contenders like One Battle After Another.

I'm talking about the routine, well-made entertainments that, for nearly a century, used to open in theaters every week.

You'd go see them because the story sounded good, or you liked the stars, or you just wanted to enjoy something as part of an audience.

I was reminded of how much I'd missed them as I watched Crime 101, a pleasingly rare example of what used to be commonplace.

Based on a 2020 novella by the terrific crime novelist Don Winslow, Bart Layton's movie boasts a slate of top-notch stars and puts a nifty, self-conscious spin on the old-fashioned heist picture.

Hopscotching through Los Angeles' glamour and grit, the action centers on three solitary characters, each at a personal Rubicon.

Chris Hemsworth plays Davis, a virtuoso jewel thief who pulls off clockwork robberies in neighborhoods along the 101 freeway.

A study in terse masculinity, Davis is a Steve McQueen fan, it's worth noting, this control freak gets knocked off his bearings by running afoul of his mentor, played by a menacing Nick Nolte, and by getting involved with a charming publicist.

That's Monica Barbaro, who wants him to open up.

His nemesis is an honest police detective named Lou, nicely played by Mark Ruffalo.

Rumpled and brainy, Lou's got an unhappy wife, that's Jennifer Jason Leigh, and an unhappy boss who tells him to stop chasing the 101 jewel thief and start padding LAPD arrest stats by closing easier cases.

but Lou's obsessed.

Both he and Davis wind up crossing paths with Sharon, that's an excellent Halle Berry, who works selling high-end insurance to rich jerks, one played with fine jerkiness by Tate Donovan.

Waiting for a promotion that never comes, Sharon suffers from insomnia, her sleep app chastises her, and seeks refuge in self-affirmation tapes.

Although frustrated, Sharon is sharp.