by Jo Stubbings
Worth: $16.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Moritz Henneberg, Julius Drost, Samuel Felinton
Intro:
Ending aside, Plischke’s film is riveting and unpredictable.
Film thief cops justice in the nicest possible way
Fakes, frauds and scumbags are the foundation of the true-crime entertainment that we hate to love. Igor Plischke’s documentary The Talented Mr F. plays in this space. It could equally be described as a morality play, a thriller, a road movie even. What sets it apart is its disarming gentleness – the perp is essentially harmless and his ‘victims’ so accommodating that we all risk drowning in a sea of niceness.
The back story concerns Berlin university students Julius and Moritz and their two-year thesis project – a short (and very cute) 3D animation called Butty. Julius explains, ‘Butty is about a clumsy household robot who’s looking for his place on earth’. Looking for his place on earth. The line proves uncannily prescient.
For smart guys, they then do a very dumb thing. They upload the film to YouTube to gauge audience reaction. Encouraged by strong feedback, they enter Butty into a swag of festivals and finally notch up a win. It’s Prosit all round until … it’s not.
Director Igor Plischke opens the documentary proper with a jolt: grainy footage of an American high school student accepting awards for Butty. Except, it’s no longer Butty. Rebranded as T-130, with added music, the film goes on to win 20 festival awards under a stranger’s name – one Samuel Felinton. A self-described ‘high-school entrepreneur’, he’s clearly not the creator. He’s a doggone thief.
From here, the film shifts into pursuit mode, Julius and Moritz, camera crew in tow, pointing their noses toward West Virginia – and their man. Their plan sounds okay – a New York contact, ‘Ian’, will pose as a film producer interested in Samuel’s ‘artistic success’, while the real creators disguise themselves as cameramen. It’s gonna be the most civilised sting.
What makes The Talented Mr F. a standout is its bizarre true story, deft storytelling, and extremely likeable ‘cast’. Plischke keeps the focus tight – Julius, Moritz and Samuel – with Ian in support and the director himself intervening later as an invisible kind of deus ex-machina.
But it’s animator/narrator Julius who steals the show. With his boyish Timothee Chalamet persona, he brings energy to the screen – the perfect foil to his more serious mate, Moritz, and the po-faced Samuel. He fixates on absurd details, giggles through tension, and seems more rattled by Samuel’s ignorance of 3D animation than the theft itself. We’re rooting for him instinctively. We’re outraged.
Much of the film’s tension is conversational rather than action-driven, Julius and Moritz asking the questions we’re all thinking. How could a thief be so blatant? What made him do it? How did he think he could get away with it? How will he react when confronted?
Plischke offsets the chat with constant scene changes – Moritz’s study, a café, a car, the street, the study again… Transitional shots of planes and open water neatly signal the move into the film’s second act – America and Samuel. It’s a neat device, inviting reflection on the key themes of authorship, identity and ambition.
In New York, the tone lightens briefly. Julius and Moritz bond with Ian; a sweet ice-skating scene reminds us that these are just kids, after all, who’d much rather be doing something fun than interrogating a stranger. As they close in on West Virginia, unease creeps back – ‘Is it all worth it?’, one wonders aloud. Road signs – ‘Do Not Enter’ and ‘Wrong Turn’ – hover with a mix of irony and foreboding.
To his credit, Ian introduces the film’s clearest moral stand, insisting that he never intended to cause harm or risk Samuel harming himself, should the reveal prove too much. (Samuel’s a shy guy. Looks vulnerable. Says little.) This, they’ve agreed to all along because, you know, they’re nice people.
This is also where the film falters. The long-awaited confrontation between the big three, after 70+ minutes of build-up, lands with the impact of a wet fish. Julian and Moritz just can’t help being nice. They even shake Samuel’s hand when all you want them to do is strangle him a little. Or maybe that’s just us?
This is the first of three ‘mini’ endings before we learn exactly what makes Samuel tick, and how good justice feels. These moments are neatly handled but diffuse the impact, softening what might have been a punchier conclusion (so to speak).
Ending aside, Plischke’s film is riveting and unpredictable. In a genre built on exposure and punishment, The Talented Mr F. asks the question – what does justice look like when everyone insists on being civilised? There’s an ironic consideration too. With a documentary like this – the short film Butty couldn’t hope for better publicity.
