Catch Me If You Can

Leonardo di Caprio’s ongoing quest for world domination continues apace, the last month’s releases having teamed him up with the world’s most successful film-maker (Steven Spielberg) and the man widely considered its best (Martin Scorsese’s Gangs of New York).

Though Gangs might do more for the young pup’s general cred, Spielberg’s Catch me if You Can will undoubtedly wipe the floor with it at the box-office, a lamentably undeserved (if inevitable) state of affairs.

The true story of massive-scale fraudster Frank Abagnale Jr., a con artist who scammed $2.5million worth of forged cheques before the age of 21, Catch Me if You Can takes a predictably benevolent approach towards its subject’s crimes, casting him as a sort-of latterday Robin Hood (minus the giving anything to anybody but – apart from whores’ fees, that is).

DiCaprio has no difficulty with the role, which merely requires him to turn up the smarm and adopt the ‘lovable puppy-dog’ expression which has served him well through life so far. Tom Hanks is a typically reliable, if undynamic, foil as the FBI special agent who pursues diCaprio across the globe over several years, Christopher Walken puts plenty of effort into his minor role, and Martin Sheen turns up as well.

The problem with Catch Me if You Can’s isn’t the acting, the script or anything inherent: its fluffy crowd-pleasing nature is OK in itself, but as is so often the case, it seems to have given rise to an urge to spell out every single plot-point and verbal nuance in excruciating retard-friendly detail. The result is bearable if you’re on the two-films-a-year program, but deeply annoying for anyone whose reading of cinema has passed the point of ‘deciphering’ a raised eyebrow or shaken head.

Undeniably lightweight, mildly entertaining and deeply inconsequential, Catch Me if You Can is certain to be lapped up and adored by mainstream audiences: Spielberg and Tom Hanks have proved a hugely bankable partnership in the past, while diCaprio’s mere presence literally acts as a magnet for millions upon millions of females.

Nonetheless, it’s deeply unmemorable, horrifically over-extended at a mind-bending 140 minutes, and generally essential only to the 50% or so of the population who can’t let any Leo film pass by without a visit and a commemorative hand-job afterwards.