By TIM DAVID HARVEY.
(For the opening scene of #FilmsForFridays' new feature, #SceneStealing-were we breakdown the best scenes in films in more detail-we start with 2015's 'Focus' starring Will Smith and Margot Robbie. WARNING: Specific scene spoilers, but not plot points follow.)
"Can I get in on this?!"
'Focus'. Like critics thought the latest Will Smith cinematic comeback vehicle ('Bright', 'Aladdin', 'Gemini Man' and the latest 'Bad Boys For Life' have been fun for the 'Independence Day' and 'Men In Black' 90's blockbuster icon lately, but he still needs that 'Ali' knockout comeback for his 'Pursuit Of Happyness') and Margot Robbie hottest actor of the moment starter (just 'I, Tonya', 'Once Upon A Time...In Hollywood', 'Bombshell' and 'The Fantabulous Emancipation Of One Harley Quinn' look at her now) could have needed more of a half (can you believe it's been that long?) decade ago. But even if the con wasn't on for some critics, it still held a lot of cards. As a punch, drunk Smith laid out on the marble floor of a fancy Florida party, hungover after being thrown out by two bouncers like the way the fickle industry treats its most marketable, money making asset actors and groaned, "I've still got it". You do Prince. Pump it up! Still so fresh at fifty, like Ali swinging and dancing at sixty. Hustling hard it had its way. The chemistry between 'Suicide Squad' stars Margot and Will was compellingly set. It looked as slick as Smith did suited smart. And after an iconic one-shot car crash that hit you head on like a punch, you can feel it had an epic ending that was as thrilling as it was tense and powerful as it wasn't predictable.
New Orleans, Louisiana and the Mercedes Superdome held a sensational and stirring scene however that remains one of the smartest and best-yet most underrated in movies-in years. And how good for things to be celebrated in there again? The place could use that like 'Mindhunter' Holt McCallany in 'Sully' said New York could use the 'Miracle On The Hudson'. The whole scene and set-up that follows lasts a shade under 20 minutes, but that's a lifetime for a movie that clocks in at around one hour and 45 minutes. And coming into play at the first half hour, the rest of the movie can't quite top these high stakes. The morning after Deadshot and Harley Quinn have spent the night together, they have tickets to the big game...which Margot has managed to sleight of hand grab off Will's person, like he's been David Blaine-ing all movie. In the throws of a lustful love that's wasted on the young they can't believe their luck...or seats ("it's just one of the many wonderful things about being me" Smith says in confident reply to how he got these tickets, in a way only he can make sound charming and anything but cocky. Probably because it's true). "Is this a bad time to mention I don't really like football", Robbie asks awkward grinning, to which Smith playfully replies, "yeah...like the WORST time possible!" "It just seems like a lot of standing around all the time" (she's not wrong). So they decide to make things more interesting. "Forget football we can still have fun" Smith says searching the bleachers or an opportunity. Or a bet. That man won't catch the Hail Mary hot dog. $1. The shirtless guy rocking the Party, number 69 body painted jersey won't get up for the Mexican wave. $10. Cha-ching, Margot knows her drunks. The best looking couple in the arena are starting to get attention. Tiebreaker. A woman in short shorts is walking up the stands. How many men check her out? Margot: 8. Will: 3.
Five!
"Can I get on this", said the man who once told you as a kid that all the dinosaurs in, 'Jurassic Park' were female. You may recognise B.D. Wong these days from the genetically engineered scientist come villain in the 'Jurassic World' sequels, (the plot twist we hate to see, but love to still have him in the park, back in the lab) and T.V. shows like Rami Malek's 'Mr. Robot', or how about being Arkham Asylum's own perfect prescribed Hugo Strange in 'Gotham' that we already miss tonight? But here pencil moustache, pin-striped and scotched to the eyeballs, this slicked back CONnoisseur for your change lifting his blinged pinky as he raises his glass of ice is dripping in new money and scene stealing, camp charisma as he sits a few seats higher one leg over the other, cocksure as downstairs. With the second most beautiful girl in the arena that everyone's checking out, bet by his side. Margot knowing her letches like she does her drunks wins this one. Money, money, money. But Sherlock the game is only just afoot. Wong wants a chance to make his money back. We're in a penalty situation...but Margot "(doesn't) know football" so as B.D. Take a seat next to Big Willie she let's the guys pissing contest play. We're into grands now like piano and Will drops the first one like falling keys. It's all fun and games. 5 thou. "He's been drinking". "I HAVE!" B.D. leans in to reply playfully. "Do they pass or run?" Money in Wong's pocket. OUCH! "Ouch is right". And on that note...or five thousand of 'em, Will calls it. Time for a drink. A double perhaps?
Double or nothing? Wong won't let up. "Come on I want to play...I like you" he flirts. Lightly hitting Will with the wad he's just lifted off him like he's dusting his jacket for lint. "You can't lose". He can. $10,000 gone like the condiment stand. He's got the hooks in him now. 50. Margot's starting to get wooried. "He's not going to return the kick". He's going to take a knee like that hero Kaepernick, Trump called a traitor (takes one to know one...one who is the exact opposite of that to America, whilst they all complain about not getting a haircut). The seemingly friendly facade drops into a returned cold as ice grill after Wong endearingly realises Will likes to make things interesting. But he's not going to return his money. The camerwork starts to act like Smith is drunk, even though it's his betting partner, cleaning him out whose holding the glass like all the cards. Turns out Will is woozy off another addiction, and there's no way out of this circling the bottom of the glass like a drain now. He's all in, with nothing to bet with, forget nothing to lose. The drums that Charlie Watts forgot for Lady Gaga's One World Together Live At Home stream of the Rolling Stones start to play. But will there be sympathy for this devil? "Wow...WOW!" He starts to get his Owen Wilson on. It's on now. "Give me a second...give me a second". 100 grand. "You don't have one hundred thousand".
Yeah he does.
"Please allow me to introduce myself" Jagger croons as Will Smith racks up stacks like chips in Vegas. Do you want any fives with that (Chris Tucker voice). "I'm a man of wealth and taste". Well so is B.D. Wong, high rolling and upping the ante out his briefcase like something in the movies. The money bands are out like we were exchanging foreign currency. Smith is serious. Wong in control is all smirks and smiles, still friendly, still flirting. They should get a room. Margot just wishes she wasn't in this one right now...but the Costner channeling bodyguard who treats B.D. like Whitney won't let her. Wong calls his dog off. It's not about hostility. This is his suite and this is just too sweet. It's about hospitality. Next play. Pass incomplete. Shrugs of why not. No it's not. Can you guess who made THAT bet? Robbie's reaction says it all. Ball roll. Eye roll. Wong makes a sound like a purring cat, clinks glasses with his friends. "We're going...WE'RE GOING", Margot implores barrelling the duffle bag that's all about the Benjamins stuffed full into Smith's chest. He walks away and then works a spin move on Robbie that 'The Last Dance' of Jordan would be proud of to pick and roll. "All of it". He empties the duffel onto the table like the movies...hey when in the French Quarter right. 1.1 million. But it ain't just his money. Its everybody's. Margot's too. He slams a pack of cards down like a joker. High card takes it all. "You're crazy" B.D. warns, "and I like it" he endears, beckoning his men to bring his briefcase to the table, as the smile returns like Smith wishes his luck would as Wong's won't run out. "After you" Smith ever the gentleman. Hand over the heart, almost mockingly if B.D. wasn't so nice, "thank you". He gets his right hand all warmed up, stogie in the other. Tongue out like M.J. But then he picks a hand of cards no thinner than a coaster...and it's the five of clubs. The house comes down like the cards did on Spacey. Wong shows the first sing of frustration. Saying something in his mother tongue, not really under his breath as he slides the cards back like a credit card through the reader fot a spoilt child. "What's that" Smith says some of his trademark, charismatic confidence coming back to the steely, simmering surface. "It's just an expression". "The rough translation is-as Will picks the three of hearts-I Am F#####!" The smile returns. The one Will has been wearing for the last ten minutes does too. Margot slumps to the floor. They begin to walk out in slow motion like Wong's cigar smoke swirling in victory. The songs switched to "there's nothing in my dreams, just some ugly memories". If Will hasn't lost it all...including Robbie, he has now. The lighter goes back in the pocket. The cigar burns orange embers at the tip. "Sorry friend. That's what happens when you play with the big boys".
Will doesn't make it to the door. Margot's eyes fall to the floor. "Oh F###!" Double it. Even B.D.s GQ cool veneer drops, "ah man, dude what are you doing". Smith doesn't respond to people telling him he's got a problem, his character has probably heard that his whole life. Will reckons he can guess the number of any player picked through the binoculars of this high rise like suite. Wong doesn't like it. OK. Smith sweetens the deal. Wong picks. Robbie guesses. WHAT?! That's like 100-1. 2 million. F###### crazy. But would you turn down free money? You've got a bet. Out come the binos as Margot's Australia would say. "Don't touch me. What it's not enough you lost everybodies money, my money". "Eugh, she sounds like my wife" Mr. Wong says whilst choosing for the funniest moment in this whole slickly, sickly tense scene. Let's play. "Don't make me do this". Nike response. "Just do it". Wong picks, asks if he wants him to write it down, but Will trusts him. Margot's turn. One last chance to back down? Hell no. She scans the field as B.D. giddly dances next to her, he knows it's in the bag like shopping. She doesn't know what to do. But then as the Stones drums come back in her eyes widen like she doesn't even need those viewfinders anymore. She finds what's she's looking for like U2. A face in the crowd. A familiar one. A friend. Rocking the number. I didn't know he played football. He doesn't...that's the point. Number 55. Wong turns to a smiling Will, smiling too. "No". He looks to Margot. "No". Shakes his head in slow motion. "No, no, no, no, NO F###### WAY! That is unbelievable! HOW DID YOU DO THAT!?" "I'm right?!" "F###! YES!" He actually sounds kind of happy. "You're f##### right!" "You're not mad", Margot asks I'm disbelief. "NO F###### WAY" he screams like HE just won the jackpot, not lost 2 million as he plants a kiss on her cheek like a check. "We have got to go to Vegas RIGHT now" he tells Smith as he shakes his hand with both of his like you just sadly wouldn't do right now. "I have a jet". "That was incredible...did you see what she just did?" His friends look as happy as he does...even his girlfriend whose in for a cheap Christmas. "And you" he says to Smith, hand on hip, cock and the walk, swagger strutting over as he sways and talks about the size of Will's minerals. "You are my new f###### hero!" Will finally relaxed with the weight of the world and his whole body seemingly out of him and off his shoulders as he leans on the woman of the moment Margot Robbie points back and cheekily says it..."double or nothing?" "WOOOOOAH! NO F###### way!" Wong replies as Margot hits Will playfully telling him off. "GET THE F### OUT MY SUITE" he half jokingly replies in kind. "NOW"! "TOUCHDOWN...YEAH", screams number 55, slapping the coaches butt like he just completed a play (he did) and telling him their score is settled, as the Mandarin, "woo, woo's" of the Rolling Stone's 'Sympathy Of The Devil' repeats for the 124th time. Now! Want to know how they did it?
Focus and watch the movie.
Five!
"Can I get on this", said the man who once told you as a kid that all the dinosaurs in, 'Jurassic Park' were female. You may recognise B.D. Wong these days from the genetically engineered scientist come villain in the 'Jurassic World' sequels, (the plot twist we hate to see, but love to still have him in the park, back in the lab) and T.V. shows like Rami Malek's 'Mr. Robot', or how about being Arkham Asylum's own perfect prescribed Hugo Strange in 'Gotham' that we already miss tonight? But here pencil moustache, pin-striped and scotched to the eyeballs, this slicked back CONnoisseur for your change lifting his blinged pinky as he raises his glass of ice is dripping in new money and scene stealing, camp charisma as he sits a few seats higher one leg over the other, cocksure as downstairs. With the second most beautiful girl in the arena that everyone's checking out, bet by his side. Margot knowing her letches like she does her drunks wins this one. Money, money, money. But Sherlock the game is only just afoot. Wong wants a chance to make his money back. We're in a penalty situation...but Margot "(doesn't) know football" so as B.D. Take a seat next to Big Willie she let's the guys pissing contest play. We're into grands now like piano and Will drops the first one like falling keys. It's all fun and games. 5 thou. "He's been drinking". "I HAVE!" B.D. leans in to reply playfully. "Do they pass or run?" Money in Wong's pocket. OUCH! "Ouch is right". And on that note...or five thousand of 'em, Will calls it. Time for a drink. A double perhaps?
Double or nothing? Wong won't let up. "Come on I want to play...I like you" he flirts. Lightly hitting Will with the wad he's just lifted off him like he's dusting his jacket for lint. "You can't lose". He can. $10,000 gone like the condiment stand. He's got the hooks in him now. 50. Margot's starting to get wooried. "He's not going to return the kick". He's going to take a knee like that hero Kaepernick, Trump called a traitor (takes one to know one...one who is the exact opposite of that to America, whilst they all complain about not getting a haircut). The seemingly friendly facade drops into a returned cold as ice grill after Wong endearingly realises Will likes to make things interesting. But he's not going to return his money. The camerwork starts to act like Smith is drunk, even though it's his betting partner, cleaning him out whose holding the glass like all the cards. Turns out Will is woozy off another addiction, and there's no way out of this circling the bottom of the glass like a drain now. He's all in, with nothing to bet with, forget nothing to lose. The drums that Charlie Watts forgot for Lady Gaga's One World Together Live At Home stream of the Rolling Stones start to play. But will there be sympathy for this devil? "Wow...WOW!" He starts to get his Owen Wilson on. It's on now. "Give me a second...give me a second". 100 grand. "You don't have one hundred thousand".
Yeah he does.
"Please allow me to introduce myself" Jagger croons as Will Smith racks up stacks like chips in Vegas. Do you want any fives with that (Chris Tucker voice). "I'm a man of wealth and taste". Well so is B.D. Wong, high rolling and upping the ante out his briefcase like something in the movies. The money bands are out like we were exchanging foreign currency. Smith is serious. Wong in control is all smirks and smiles, still friendly, still flirting. They should get a room. Margot just wishes she wasn't in this one right now...but the Costner channeling bodyguard who treats B.D. like Whitney won't let her. Wong calls his dog off. It's not about hostility. This is his suite and this is just too sweet. It's about hospitality. Next play. Pass incomplete. Shrugs of why not. No it's not. Can you guess who made THAT bet? Robbie's reaction says it all. Ball roll. Eye roll. Wong makes a sound like a purring cat, clinks glasses with his friends. "We're going...WE'RE GOING", Margot implores barrelling the duffle bag that's all about the Benjamins stuffed full into Smith's chest. He walks away and then works a spin move on Robbie that 'The Last Dance' of Jordan would be proud of to pick and roll. "All of it". He empties the duffel onto the table like the movies...hey when in the French Quarter right. 1.1 million. But it ain't just his money. Its everybody's. Margot's too. He slams a pack of cards down like a joker. High card takes it all. "You're crazy" B.D. warns, "and I like it" he endears, beckoning his men to bring his briefcase to the table, as the smile returns like Smith wishes his luck would as Wong's won't run out. "After you" Smith ever the gentleman. Hand over the heart, almost mockingly if B.D. wasn't so nice, "thank you". He gets his right hand all warmed up, stogie in the other. Tongue out like M.J. But then he picks a hand of cards no thinner than a coaster...and it's the five of clubs. The house comes down like the cards did on Spacey. Wong shows the first sing of frustration. Saying something in his mother tongue, not really under his breath as he slides the cards back like a credit card through the reader fot a spoilt child. "What's that" Smith says some of his trademark, charismatic confidence coming back to the steely, simmering surface. "It's just an expression". "The rough translation is-as Will picks the three of hearts-I Am F#####!" The smile returns. The one Will has been wearing for the last ten minutes does too. Margot slumps to the floor. They begin to walk out in slow motion like Wong's cigar smoke swirling in victory. The songs switched to "there's nothing in my dreams, just some ugly memories". If Will hasn't lost it all...including Robbie, he has now. The lighter goes back in the pocket. The cigar burns orange embers at the tip. "Sorry friend. That's what happens when you play with the big boys".
Will doesn't make it to the door. Margot's eyes fall to the floor. "Oh F###!" Double it. Even B.D.s GQ cool veneer drops, "ah man, dude what are you doing". Smith doesn't respond to people telling him he's got a problem, his character has probably heard that his whole life. Will reckons he can guess the number of any player picked through the binoculars of this high rise like suite. Wong doesn't like it. OK. Smith sweetens the deal. Wong picks. Robbie guesses. WHAT?! That's like 100-1. 2 million. F###### crazy. But would you turn down free money? You've got a bet. Out come the binos as Margot's Australia would say. "Don't touch me. What it's not enough you lost everybodies money, my money". "Eugh, she sounds like my wife" Mr. Wong says whilst choosing for the funniest moment in this whole slickly, sickly tense scene. Let's play. "Don't make me do this". Nike response. "Just do it". Wong picks, asks if he wants him to write it down, but Will trusts him. Margot's turn. One last chance to back down? Hell no. She scans the field as B.D. giddly dances next to her, he knows it's in the bag like shopping. She doesn't know what to do. But then as the Stones drums come back in her eyes widen like she doesn't even need those viewfinders anymore. She finds what's she's looking for like U2. A face in the crowd. A familiar one. A friend. Rocking the number. I didn't know he played football. He doesn't...that's the point. Number 55. Wong turns to a smiling Will, smiling too. "No". He looks to Margot. "No". Shakes his head in slow motion. "No, no, no, no, NO F###### WAY! That is unbelievable! HOW DID YOU DO THAT!?" "I'm right?!" "F###! YES!" He actually sounds kind of happy. "You're f##### right!" "You're not mad", Margot asks I'm disbelief. "NO F###### WAY" he screams like HE just won the jackpot, not lost 2 million as he plants a kiss on her cheek like a check. "We have got to go to Vegas RIGHT now" he tells Smith as he shakes his hand with both of his like you just sadly wouldn't do right now. "I have a jet". "That was incredible...did you see what she just did?" His friends look as happy as he does...even his girlfriend whose in for a cheap Christmas. "And you" he says to Smith, hand on hip, cock and the walk, swagger strutting over as he sways and talks about the size of Will's minerals. "You are my new f###### hero!" Will finally relaxed with the weight of the world and his whole body seemingly out of him and off his shoulders as he leans on the woman of the moment Margot Robbie points back and cheekily says it..."double or nothing?" "WOOOOOAH! NO F###### way!" Wong replies as Margot hits Will playfully telling him off. "GET THE F### OUT MY SUITE" he half jokingly replies in kind. "NOW"! "TOUCHDOWN...YEAH", screams number 55, slapping the coaches butt like he just completed a play (he did) and telling him their score is settled, as the Mandarin, "woo, woo's" of the Rolling Stone's 'Sympathy Of The Devil' repeats for the 124th time. Now! Want to know how they did it?
Focus and watch the movie.
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