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Derrick Dunn

“The Only Living Pickpocket in New York” Review: John Turturro Steals the Show in an Old-School Crime Drama

John Turturro has spent decades stealing a movie without ever demanding the spotlight, yet somehow he still doesn’t have an Oscar nomination. Writer-director Noah Segan may have finally given Academy voters a reason to correct this oversight with Sony Pictures Classics’ “The Only Living Pickpocket in New York.”

Turturro plays Harry Lehman, a Bronx pickpocket whose best days are behind him. He embodies a bygone New York where cash was king, a good hustle required quick hands, and a man’s word still mattered. At home, Harry cares for his disabled wife, Rosie (Karina Arroyave), while grappling with the estrangement from his daughter Kelly (Tatiana Maslany). His closest friend is Ben (Steve Buscemi), a pawnshop owner who understands that the city they once knew is disappearing.

Harry’s routine takes a sharp turn when he steals from Dylan (Will Price), a young man with dangerous connections. Among the stolen items is a USB drive that Harry doesn’t recognize as anything significant. Unfortunately, Dylan knows its true value and gives Harry until the end of the day to return it.

While the setup sounds like a standard crime thriller, Segan has something more intriguing in mind. Harry represents old-school street smarts trying to survive in a tech-driven world. Pickpockets once walked away with wallets full of cash; now they are lucky to find a few dollars or credit cards that can be canceled before they reach the next block. Watching Harry navigate this divide gives the film some of its funniest moments without making him a mere punchline.

What I appreciated most about the film is that Segan never asks us to view Harry as innocent. He is a criminal, plain and simple. However, he is also a husband trying to provide care, a father living with regrets, and a man whose options have steadily narrowed. You can understand someone without excusing everything they’ve done.

Turturro makes this distinction seem effortless. A lifetime of frustration is etched on his face, yet he never begs for sympathy. Buscemi provides excellent support, and the film’s retro atmosphere makes New York feel like another character. Some of the younger characters could use more depth, and I wouldn’t have minded a bit more exploration of Harry’s family dynamics.

Still, this modest, character-driven film reminds us of why great acting matters. No capes, explosions, or manufactured speeches are required—just John Turturro, reminding Hollywood of what it has overlooked for years. He certainly deserves a spot on my shortlist for Best Actor, and I would love to see his name called.

Final Grade: B+

 

 

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