Movie Review

As many as 4.7 million people ride New York’s subway system every day. Like fish, those people swim through train’s sliding doors—bags in hand, packs on back, eyes on phone—on their way to countless destinations: a museum, a park, their homes, their jobs.

But for some, that ride on the subway is their job. With deft fingers and a slight jostle, they make a pocket a little lighter—and a subway stranger’s day much, much worse.

Pickpockets don’t get performance reviews. But if Harry did, he’d receive high marks. He’s been at the business for decades now, and his fingers have only grown faster, his technique more refined. The subway is his prime hunting ground, but he’s not particular: He can’t afford to be. He’ll strike on the street, in a parking lot, in a corner diner if the opportunity presents itself.

Then, when the working day is done, Harry will pick up Rosie—his beloved, catatonic wife—carry her up the stairs, squeeze her dinner into her IV. And, if the bills are especially tight, he’ll pay the neighbor across the hall to listen for anything amiss in Rosie’s world. And then Harry will head out for a second shift.

And so it goes. Every day, every night, he lifts and pockets wallets, watches and smartphones he can’t use. He sells what he can, throws away the rest and moves on.

Until one night, Harry steals from the wrong guy.

He’s a kid, really—a Gen Z player with a baggy coat and vintage car. Harry strikes up a conversation, swipes the guy’s wallet and sticks a penny in the door handle (an old trick to keep the door from locking). Then, when the kid is guzzling down trendy TikTok drinks with his buddies in the bar, Harry goes back, opens the door and swipes the man’s gym bag.

Inside that bag he finds a watch worth 15K stuffed in a running shoe, a fancy, credit card-shaped USB drive (though Harry wouldn’t recognize it) and a gun.

He pockets the watch, keeps the drive (why, he’s not sure) and tosses the rest. He doesn’t want any trouble with a piece-packing kid.

But it’s too late. The trouble has begun. That kid—Dylan—belongs to the sort of family you never, ever steal from. And Dylan wants—no, he needs—that USB back.

And a comatose, helpless wife? Why, that might be just the leverage that Dylan can use.