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What makes a performance worthy of an Oscar? Over the decades, the thousands of industry professionals who vote for the award tend to favor young actresses who deliver career-defining performances right out of the gate. Meryl Streep was 30 when she landed her first statuette for Kramer vs. Kramer, Sally Field was 33 when she nabbed one for Norma Rae, Jennifer Lawrence scored hers at 22 for Silver Linings Playbook, and Emma Stone got there at 28 for La La Land.
It’s often a different story for men. Henry Fonda’s time came at the age of 78 for On Golden Pond. Al Pacino was 52 when he won for Scene of a Woman, and Sean Penn was 43 when he scored with Mystic River. On occasion, voters have heralded newer generations, most recently with last year’s win for Michael Jordan in Sinners. But many established and revered performers are forced to play the waiting game.
Which brings us to John Turturro. One of the most familiar faces from the past 30-odd years of American cinema, Turturro has demonstrated extraordinary range in some of the most essential movies from that period: Everything from Do the Right Thing to Barton Fink, Quiz Show and The Big Lebowski, not to mention an extensive list of television credits that culminated in an Emmy nomination last year for Severance. Yet throughout that whole time, the 69-year-old hasn’t been nominated once. The Only Living Pickpocket in New York should change that.
In director Noah Segan’s acclaimed first feature, Turturro plays a tired, out-of-touch street hustler whose nimble handiwork has grown dated in an era of hackers and email scams. In an ironic twist, technology lands him in a serious jam when he steals a seemingly useless USB drive that attracts attention from a far more dangerous criminal enterprise. Forced to track down the missing device, he roams the New York City streets in a frantic effort to end his messy career with a final valiant act.
It’s a poignant and bittersweet turn, more subdued and empathetic than many of the noisier, more eccentric characters Turturro has enlivened over the years. At the same time, it doubles as a charming encapsulation of Turturro’s distinctive screen presence. His frizzy hair and lanky figure render him instantly recognizable in each frame, yet an air of mystery hangs over his interior life. He projects confidence and uncertainty as a tangled contradiction of expressions and asides, always with an air of authenticity.
The curious absence of Oscar nominations in Turturro’s past is a mystery on par with the ones he conjures onscreen. Regardless, The Only Living Pickpocket in New York should do the trick. The entire movie revolves around Turturro’s ability to remain a relatable, even comforting figure in spite of his character’s many flaws. We should all be so lucky. Memo to Oscar voters: It’s his time.
Turturro is one of two Johns in the Best Actor conversation this season. The other, John Malkovich, delivers a similar reminder of his extensive and altogether gratifying career as a deranged and terminally-ill CIA hit man in the upcoming dark comedy Wild Horse Nine. The two actors worked together back in 1998 with Rounders, and it’s an unfortunate byproduct of awards season that they have to spend the next few months leading up to the 2027 Oscars as competitors. Whatever happens at the ceremony in March, the amount of time spent campaigning to remind people that two of the best actors of their generation deserve celebration won’t have gone to waste.
The Only Living Pickpocket in New York opens at the Playhouse this week with a pre-recorded introduction by John Turturro.