How to Rob a Bank

Almost any film that dives into tech trends in the social-media age is subject to an imminent expiration date, which How to Rob a Bank fails to realize.

This slick and stylish heist thriller from director David Leitch (The Fall Guy) lacks the urgency and relevance it craves from desensitized moviegoers. As an eat-the-rich satire, it’s all smoke and mirrors.

In chronicling the exploits of a collective of brazen bank robbers who double as streamers trying to profit off their unsuspecting subscribers, the film takes down the gullible viewers who fall for the unsubstantiated conspiracy theories and self-righteous outrage about income inequality and capitalist greed they’re peddling.

Dealing in extremes and exaggerations, this shallow saga falls into its own trap. Straining to be provocative or profound, the film is more likely to induce eye-rolls by positioning its sanctimonious attention-seekers as ambitious dreamers and folk-hero philanthropists who have radically solved the trainwreck that is the American financial system.

The story is set in Pittsburgh, where Ryan (Nicholas Hoult) leads the capers and also fronts the group’s viral videos providing tips to prospective copycats, all while donning a wolf mask.

Meanwhile, a grizzled FBI agent (John C. Reilly) takes up the case, assisted by a disgraced university professor and coder (Zoe Kravitz) looking to clear up her legal entanglements.

Ryan’s crew seeks notoriety as much as money, under the guise of starting a movement built on fuzzy logic and paranoia. The oblivious viewers are the victims, and the overwhelmed authorities are merely collateral damage.

In other words, despite their unexplained loyalty to one another, they’re great content creators who aren’t savvy enough as thieves, so they rely on their followers to boost their profile.

Leitch brings a sugar-rush sense of kinetic energy to the action sequences, although the film is not as compelling as a procedural while building toward an inevitable high-stakes finale.

The film leverages anarchic attitude and edgy visual gimmickry to cover for a lack of emotional depth or narrative complexity among ethically bankrupt characters who are little more than selfish grifters and sleazy opportunists high on their own supply.

Even with the benefit of the doubt that it doesn’t believe its own self-important nonsense, the manipulative screenplay is borderline laughable in asking for sympathy.

Like its protagonists, How to Rob a Bank practically dares you to despise it, a challenge that’s surprisingly easy to accept.

Rated R, 122 minutes.