'The Score' a riveting classic

"The Score" is classic film noir with an A-list cast, an exercise in traditional craftsmanship that is so rare in this age of bloated special effects budgets and editing choppier than the average transatlantic voyage.\nIt hardly ascends to the upper echelon of classics like "The Maltese Falcon" and "Chinatown." It's more like a contemporary production of Shakespeare -- more a vehicle for captivating acting than anything else.\nDirector Frank Oz convened a summit for the finest method actors of three generations for this heist flick -- Marlon Brando, Robert DeNiro and Edward Norton. In deliberately pacing the film, he simply stands back and gives them breathing room.\nOz, in his first departure from such light-hearted fluff as "In and Out," took the right approach. It would have been worth at least double the price of admission just to watch these vaunted heavyweights take turns reading from a phone book.\nThe only thing holding this movie back from entrance in the canon of high cinematic art is the screenplay, which is more than a trifle hackneyed. Although the ragged string of a plot has two thieves attempting to pull off a nigh-impossible heist, the only genuinely suspenseful moment comes when the hefty and decrepit Brando precariously perches himself on a bar stool.\nDeNiro plays Nick Wells, a master safecracker who has to be cajoled into One Last Job©. He runs a classy jazz joint in Montreal and decides to throw in the towel after narrowly escaping from a jewelry heist in Boston, only to discover that the buyer fell through.\nNick wants to retire because he hopes to run his club in peace and settle down with a saucy and underused Angela Bassett, who provides the token romantic interest. But Brando, a flamboyant Montreal crime kingpin, sells him on a long-term investment plan -- a priceless scepter that belonged to French aristocracy.\nBrando, who's been completely off his rocker for at least the past two decades, clearly ad-libs many of his lines, including the soon-to-be-immortal: "I'll believe that when pigs eat my brother."\nThank you Marlon Brando, thank you, for that colloquial addition to the American lexicon.\nBut it's good to see Colonel Kurtz back in action. Brando, who portrays his character Max as a wizened yet regal Truman Capote, positively delights, dispensing a kind of nutty wittiness and an irresistible charm. The words flutter from his lips like butterflies around sweet nectar. He's mesmerizing every second he's on screen, if only because he hasn't taken on such a substantive role in a long while. \nMax has an inside man at the Montreal Customs House, a fiery Edward Norton who masquerades as a mentally impaired custodian. Norton's Jack smolders with a youthful hunger and an inexperienced cockiness.\nOf course, the job violates two of Nick's most sacred tenets -- never work in your backyard and always work alone. But predictably enough, the thought of four million dollars in the bank overpowers his better judgment. \nOz then guides the audience through all the standard complications and double-crosses. While he painstakingly documents the heist in all its maddening technical complexity, there's never really any doubt as to the outcome.\nAs a taciturn and introverted safecracker, DeNiro steals the show with his low-key performance. \nWhile the immensely talented Norton wasn't out of his league, the viewer can readily tell that such insecurities lurked in the back of his mind. Brando also had to plead guilty to the misdemeanor of overacting. He presented the audience with an atrophied and foppish Vito Corleone.\nDeNiro, by contrast, marvelously underplayed his character. He has a scene with Bassett in which he expresses his desire to get out of the business. She's in another room while he chops up some vegetables for dinner.\nAs he lays down the knife, he sheepishly beats around the bush and never lifts his eyes. \nIt's just a quiet scene -- but it's surely some of the best acting to be found in theaters this year.