With Aubrey Plaza as the star and the odd title EMILY THE CRIMINAL, one might be reasonably expect some dark comedy but, no, this film is anything but funny. Instead, director John Patton Ford serves up what seems at first to be pointed social commentary on modern economic unfairness. until it morphs into a dark thriller with a feminist slant. In EMILY THE CRIMINAL, Aubrey Plaza plays a young woman with artistic talent and a pile of student loan debt who is struggling to make a living and dreaming about breaking through to white-color work. Emily (Plaza) is hard-working but is held back by a low-level criminal record that haunts her and leaves her with only low paid jobs and gig work. Offered a chance to make some quick cash, she takes what she thinks is a one-time opportunity, although it is illegal. Yet doing so opens a door to a new side of Emily, as she finds a surprising sense of power, in this mix of thriller and dark social commentary.
It is not comedy but it is a rare chance for Aubrey Plaza to show off her serious acting chops. Along the way, there is plenty of biting, sarcastic dialog for serious Plaza fans.
EMILY THE CRIMINAL opens with a telling scene of the income inequality and economic unfairness of modern American capitalism. The film opens with Emily (Plaza) interviewing for a job. The interview asks about her “criminal record” and Emily sheepishly owns up to a DUI, with an explanation that she was the least drunk of her friends and chalks it up to youthful poor judgment. But it isn’t what the interviewer has in mind, as he already did an background check on her and uncovered a felony conviction for assault. It shocks us, and her, and she starts to explain, then stops short and rages against him for laying a trap for her, when he already knew, and railing against the invasion of privacy and the pointlessness of the interview.
It does leave us wondering why she was there, if it was nothing but a mean prank. As she rails against her mistreatment, she reveals that she is desperately trying to pay off a large student loan for art school before storming out. She returns to the only job she can get with this “criminal record” hanging over her, that of a gig worker for a catering company. That the assault involved an abusive ex-boyfriend is something we learn later, as well as the lack of money and a family emergency that caused her to leave college before finishing the degree.
Emily’s criminal record is a kind of modern scarlet letter, and an economic trap she can’t escape, no matter how talented and hard-working she is. Her best friend from art school Liz (Megalyn Echikunwoke) is working at a prestigious ad agency but reluctant to recommend Emily for fear of endangering her own employment. In this pre-pandemic world, the employers hold all the power but even now, the ability that employers have to do background checks on any potential hires still leaves people like Emily out in the cold. It is a betrayal of the old ideal of America as a land of second chances.
Back at her restaurant gig job, a co-worker tips Emily off to a side job, as a “dummy shopper,” saying she can make $200 in one day. With the student loan weighing on her, she calls and shows up a nearly-abandoned office space, along with a roomful of others. When the trainer, a handsome, soft-spoken man named Youcef (Theo Rossi) starts to describe what they will be doing, she learns that the job is an illegal one, buying big-ticket items with stolen credit card numbers and turning over the merchandise. At the mention that it is illegal, Youcef pauses and invites anyone who is uncomfortable with that to simply leave now, no problem. Emily gets up to do that, but then reconsiders. She and the rest of the roomful of people are told this is a one-time thing, just quick money. Emily signs on.
This dabbling in the criminal world goes on for a while, with Emily signing up a second time for the easy money and finding a mutual attraction with Youcef. But then the film takes a sharp turn, away from social commentary and a woman ground down by economic circumstances, to something darker, more edgy and more a crime thriller. Emily finds herself drawn to the power she feels in this world, and what follows are several harrowing scenes, where the tables are suddenly turned and an unexpected outcome emerges.
Aubrey Plaza is fabulous in this role, making her troubled character both sympathetic no matter what she does, and a femme powerhouse by turns. Using a Jersey accent that gives her character a little edge, we suspect there was always a darkness and steel within her, something her friend from art-school lacks. When Emily talks about the assault charge involving the ex-boyfriend, she says the problem was not that she went too far, but that she did not go far enough to make him afraid of her. It is not what we expect from the character we first met, yet we kind of know it was there all along too.
There is a feminist empowerment side to this film but it is a dark version of that. At one point, Emily goes to meet Youcef’s Lebanese mother, who asks her what she does for a living. “Emily the teacher?” she asks sweetly, and when Emily replies she is not yet sure what her career will be, the woman assures her she will discover her true life path. But is Emily already a “criminal” at the beginning of the film, marked as such by a harsh system, or is it something she chooses? It could go either way in this smart, unsettling crime thriller.
EMILY THE CRIMINAL opens Friday, August 12, in theaters.
RATING: 3 out of 4 stars
