NEW YORK (FN) — A new film starring Josh O’Connor, “The Mastermind,” revisits a turbulent era when art thefts surged across the globe. Directed by Kelly Reichardt, the film draws inspiration from the 1972 robbery at the Worcester Art Museum in Massachusetts, a crime that marked a turning point in how paintings were perceived—not just as cultural treasures, but as high-value commodities.
In May of that year, two armed men stole four paintings by Paul Gauguin, Pablo Picasso, and a supposed Rembrandt, holding students hostage and injuring a security guard. Valued at 2 million Dollars, the heist was one of the largest of its time. The mastermind, Florian “Al” Monday, was quickly undone when his accomplices bragged about the crime in a local bar. The stolen works were later recovered from a pig farm in Rhode Island.
Reichardt’s film, which opens in U.S. theaters on Oct. 17 and in the U.K. on Oct. 24, centers on JB Mooney, a disillusioned art school dropout who plans a museum heist to repay debts to his wealthy parents. The film subverts the glamorous tropes of traditional heist movies, portraying JB as a deeply flawed character whose scheme unravels due to poor planning and misplaced confidence.
Art historian Tom Flynn says the 1970s art crime wave coincided with a booming art market and a cultural shift. “It’s a change where we start to see works of art as the equivalent of money,” Flynn notes. But he also points out that many thieves lacked sophistication. “The history of art crime and major art heists has been one of opportunist idiots who don’t really understand the nature of works of art,” he says. “They suddenly discover, to their horror, that the objects they’ve stolen are very difficult things to shift.”
The romanticized image of the art thief as a suave rebel gained traction during the 1960s and ’70s, fueled by films like “Topkapi,” “How to Steal a Million,” and “Gambit.” According to author Susan Ronald, this archetype reflected the era’s anti-establishment sentiment. “Part of the appeal is outsmarting the establishment,” she says. “It’s an institution, and there’s something quite daring about it.”
Reichardt’s film challenges these portrayals. JB is no heartthrob; he’s a self-absorbed, misogynistic man who relies on the women in his life—his wife Terri (Alana Haim) and former classmate Maude (Gaby Hoffman)—to bear the emotional weight of his reckless pursuit of freedom. “Just the idea of being able to be the outlaw is a privilege,” Reichardt says. “But in the end, you root for them—it’s just a narrative thing.”
Flynn argues that the glamorization of art theft has led to misconceptions, including the notion that it’s a “victimless crime.” “We don’t take it seriously enough,” he says. “Criminals often get ridiculous sentences for what are serious cultural crimes. But because it’s art, we don’t think it’s so important.”
Museum security in the 1970s was often lax, with budget cuts and inflation leaving institutions vulnerable. Guards were typically unarmed and undertrained, and getaway routes were easily accessible. The FBI Art Crime Team wasn’t established until 2004, leaving earlier cases to local law enforcement with limited resources.
Today, public museum thefts are less common, as criminals have realized that stolen artworks are “essentially non-fungible objects,” Flynn says. Yet recent U.S. government funding cuts could jeopardize museum infrastructure. “If you don’t invest in your roofs and windows,” warns heritage consultant Vernon Rapley, “weather and climate change are probably a greater risk to objects than criminals are.”
“The Mastermind” offers a sobering look at the intersection of art, crime, and cultural value, dismantling the myth of the noble thief and reminding audiences that behind every stolen masterpiece lies a trail of damage, delusion, and misplaced ambition.
