Is there room for the little guy in today’s oversized world of superhero movies? Hollywood comic book cinema loves to pay lip service to the underdog (as evinced in the recent trailer for Spider-Man: Homecoming, in which you can see the massive chip on Peter Parker’s shoulder all the way from Asgard), but it’s a world that’s increasingly reserved for big stories and even bigger budgets. Enter Sleight, the small-scale debut from director J.D. Dillard, a superhero origin story that’s set outside the typical comic book milieu but nevertheless falls victim to a different set of trends and clichés. The film’s unique concept—a young African-American street magician uses exceptional sleight-of-hand and a little bit of biomechanics to escape the clutches of a powerful drug dealer—is bogged down by familiar characterizations, rudimentary plotting and performances that seem to belong in a different movie altogether, and though there are some occasional highlights, they’re merely signifiers of all that wasted potential.
Jacob Latimore stars as Bo, a high school graduate and engineering whiz who turns down a major college scholarship after his mother dies and leaves behind his little sister, Tina (Storm Reid). By day, Bo walks the streets of Los Angeles and performs magic for susceptible tourists and curious locals; by night, he sells coke and molly to partying teenagers. It’s pretty easy to see where the story is going, especially when a love interest (Seychelle Gabriel) is conveniently introduced. Will things work out for the couple? Will Bo buckle under the increased demands of his volatile and violent supplier, Angelo (Dulé Hill, woefully miscast)? To his credit, Dillard has a few twists up his sleeve, including a literal one: Claiming that “anyone can do a trick, but doing something nobody else can do makes you a magician,” Bo installs an electromagnet in his right shoulder that’s connected to wires that run down to his fingers, allowing him to levitate and move objects. This comes in handy when things with Angelo spiral out of control, forcing Bo to take action like some kind of drug-dealing, card-carrying Tony Stark.
It’s a fun idea, and there’s a lot more that Sleight gets right: It’s self-contained and surely plotted, despite some meandering stretches in the middle; the cinematography, textured and handheld, has an almost Soderberghian quality; the special effects are modest and believable; and, most importantly, it dares to center on a young person of color rather than some chiseled white dude played by a Hemsworth brother. But at the same time, we’ve seen all this before: A good guy attempting to flee bad socioeconomic circumstances by adopting a life of crime and falling further into the world he’s trying to escape. The film’s superhero elements are accents, subtle notes meant to lend stylistic flourishes to the socially-conscious drama, and while there is something undeniably refreshing about not being hit over the head with the same comic book tropes as usual, a similar subtlety is noticeably absent throughout the rest of the film. The elements Dillard collects, and the way he arranges them on screen, give the film a mask of personality and power, but Sleight has a secret identity: A bad movie.
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