Crime 101 comes to us from writer/director/producer Bart Layton, who came up as a documentary filmmaker. In fact, this appears to be his first attempt at a narrative feature. With a crime thriller that’s got something like a dozen moving parts. That was a bold swing, and I’m not entirely sure it worked out. Buckle up, folks.

We lay our scene in L.A., in the middle of a crime spree at various places along California Highway 101. The culprit is played by Producer Chris Hemsworth. He goes by a lot of different names, so we’ll just call him Thief.

Thief is exceptionally good at what he does, using all sorts of trickery to rob couriers of high-value loot without ever resorting to anything more than the threat of violence. And because of how carefully Thief plots everything out, he leaves no evidence of any kind, not even a scrap of DNA evidence, so the cops are stuck chasing a ghost. (Actually just one cop, we’ll get to him in a minute.) But after a close call at the start of the film, Thief goes looking for one last heist with a payday big enough to let him walk away.

Enter Sharon (Halle Berry), a VP at an insurance company that sells coverage to wealthy VIPs. So she’s uniquely familiar with various high-value items, where they are, and what security is around them. She also spends all day surrounded by wealthy misogynist assholes, both among her clients and her bosses. She’s spent 11 years spinning her wheels with this company because nobody wants to promote the black woman over 50. Thus the disgruntled VP agrees to play along and get Thief his payday so she can get her cut.

This much is revealed in the trailer. And it doesn’t happen until halfway in. There is a lot going on here, y’all.

Mark Ruffalo plays Det. Lou Lubesnik of the LAPD, a detective who’s staked his career on catching the 101 Robber. Trouble is, that means he’s not solving other cases, so he’s dragging down the clearance rate for his entire department. So he’s a well-intentioned detective who does good work, but his bosses and coworkers don’t like him because everyone is more interested in politics and looking good than in actually doing their jobs.

The other main player here is Orman (Barry Keoghan), Thief’s equal and opposite. A young psychopath starting out his life of crime while Thief is winding his down. Thief’s heists are meticulous and bloodless, while Orman operates with all the subtlety and safety of a live grenade.

Last but not least, there’s the issue of Maya (Monica Barbaro), a civilian who strikes up a romance arc with Thief after a chance meet-cute. What we’ve got here is a romance arc built specifically to show how Thief has no past, no family, and no life that he can talk with anyone else about, and he’s functionally incapable of connecting with anyone on a human level. And Maya has to show a romantic/sexual interest in a man raising more red flags than China. Yes, Hemsworth and Barbaro are two intensely charismatic actors and they’re trying as hard as they can to sell it. But the bar to clear is impossibly high and all their efforts are not enough.

Speaking of which, it’s unfortunately true that with so many subplots going on at once, a great many talented actors are tragically wasted. Jennifer Jason Leigh comes in to play Lou’s estranged wife, which sounds like a hugely important role, but she’s only in the film for 30 seconds that easily could’ve been cut. Corey Hawkins gets stuck in the role of Lou’s work partner, which likewise turns out to be a thankless role beyond Hawkins’ ability to salvage. As for Nick Nolte, he plays “Money”, Thief’s fence/mentor/underworld connection. That sounds like it should be an important role, but he’s only there long enough to set Thief and Orman against each other before dropping out of the film like he was never there.

This is a heavily convoluted plot and the filmmakers aren’t always successful at juggling all the plotlines. For one thing, the filmmakers lean heavily on the editing, cutting together scenes to show the parallels and symmetries between the lead characters. It doesn’t really work. Sure, I get that the crook and the cop are two sides of the same coin, literally every other crime thriller out there makes that statement. More than anything, the intercuts are emotionally distancing and disruptive to the narrative pace.

I was far more impressed with the shared motifs and themes. I honestly love how Highway 101 is effectively a river flowing through the entire story, connecting all the characters in a continuous line and grounding them to the L.A. setting. More importantly, I love how the crook, the cop, and the corporate executive are all united by the theme of workplace exploitation.

Thief is on the outs with Money because he doesn’t want to get violent. Lou is persona non grata with the LAPD because he cares more about truth and justice than politics and optics. Sharon is chafing under an exploitative system built to keep the rich getting richer, and her self-serving bosses aren’t the type to keep their promises about bringing her anywhere near their level.

The film has a lot to say about the exploitation of the poor and workers stuck with bosses who’ve got more ego than sense. Trouble is, the film doesn’t offer much of an answer beyond “Walk away and tell your boss to shove it.” Okay, then what?

Another unifying motif is yoga, particularly self-help affirmations. Buried deep in the empty aphorisms and the various plot happenings, there’s the recurring concept of finding one’s place. It’s a neat idea, but the film ends without any real sense that the characters have actually found their place or what that looks like.

I will happily grant that the chase scenes are great fun. The action scenes are a blast, the heist scenes are all tense, and I genuinely loved watching how all the pieces fit together. The problem I keep running into is that the denouement was nowhere near as novel or interesting as the buildup.

More importantly, Crime 101 nails the crime thriller basics and the superficial thrills, but fumbles all attempts at anything deeper. Sure, it’s fun to sit through, but a film with this cast and this material could’ve delivered so much more. In point of fact, I get the strong impression that there might’ve been at least another 30 minutes that got cut. (Seriously, what happened with Jennifer Jason Leigh’s screentime?!)

All signs point to a filmmaker who took on a project out of his depth. Layton bit off more than he could chew and couldn’t quite stick the landing. I’m honestly glad I didn’t see this opening weekend, because a discounted second-run ticket price sounds just right for this one.