Producers: Brian Grazer, Jeb Brody, Allan Mandelbaum, Kelly McCormick and David Leitch   Director: David Leitch   Screenplay: Mark Bianculli   Cast: Nicholas Hoult, Zoë Kravitz, Anna Sawai, Rhenzy Feliz, Pete Davidson, John C. Reilly, Christian Slater, Paul Sparks, Tati Gabrielle, Young Mazino and Alessandra Frugoli   Distributor: Amazon MGM Studios

Grade: D-

Though at one point the script makes a shout-out to Kathryn Bigelow’s 1991 bank robbery flick “Point Break,” in which the surfer gang wore presidents’ masks during their heists, “How to Rob a Bank” is more like a bargain-basement “V for Vedetta,” James McTeigue’s adaptation of the graphic novel by Alan Moore and David Lloyd, in which a vigilante in a Guy Fawkes mask incites a revolt against a fascist British government.

Here Ryan (Nicholas Hoult), wearing a wolf mask, uses ritzy internet videos recording his gang’s Pittsburgh bank robberies to encourage people elsewhere to follow suit in battle against an economic system that exacerbates inequality and the brutal treatment of ordinary folk.  His viral success frustrates lead FBI investigator John West (John C. Reilly), who recruits convicted hacker Reagan Gardner (Zoë Kravitz), a former professor who created supposedly revolutionary software to track people by zoning in on multiple clues from various perspectives in postings, to help locate the perpetrators.

Most of the gang have personal reasons for their ire toward the establishment.  Ryan and his partner Emi (Anna Sawi) lost their child to cancer after the predatory bank loan for his treatment ruined them.  Ryan serves as the hidden face of the crew and narrator of the videos, while Emi contrives elaborate diversions, like bomb scares, to distract the authorities from the targets they’re hitting and acts as their getaway driver.  Army vet Vince (Pete Davidson) has found the VA’s treatment of the lung cancer he contracted after serving in Afghanistan woefully inadequate, and has a wife (Tati Habrielle) depending on him as well as a darling young daughter (Alessandra Frugoli) he dotes on. Hugo (Rhenzy Feliz), the tech wiz who records and edits the hyperkinetic videos, does it, apparently, just because he wants to help out his grandma.

Though they’re not above using a portion of their proceeds to serve their own needs, they distribute most of the loot to charities, like modern Robin Hoods.  

After much high-velocity action—ably fashioned by director David Leitch (an old hand at such stuff, given his background in the “John Wick” franchise among other efforts), stunt designer Greg Rementer, cinematographer Jonathan Sela, editor, Elísabet Ronaldsdóttir (with supportive aural bombast from sound designers Pat Haskill, Ryan Nowak and Gregorio Gomez and composer Dom Lewis, whose score is, of course, supplemented by lots of booming needle drops)—and eat-the-rich rhetoric supplied by scripter Mark Bianculli  and delivered with snarky passion by Hoult, West, Gardner and West’s dyspeptic second-in-command (Paul Sparks) manage to arrest the gang members. 

But a sharp Tik Tok lawyer (Young Mazino) gets them released, and despite the loss of Vince, whose incredibly schmaltzy demise is meant to give Davidson the chance to show off his dramatic chops, the crew decides to go ahead with the big finale their escapades have always been leading up to.  What it involves will have been obvious to any sentient viewer from the moment Christian Slater shows up as Walton, the sneering president of the bank that screwed Ryan and Emi.  But their revenge takes on the scope of a riot when they invite their many supporters downtown to share in the loot.

There follow climax after climax as the city erupts, chases and car crashes multiply, and a coda suggests a sequel.  True to its dark anarchic roots, “Vendetta” was content to watch its protagonist die; “Bank,” which wants to be a relatively lightweight caper comedy as well as a statement about social justice, can’t go a similar route.

Given the outcome of the recent midterm elections and the street demonstrations in France, the issues raised here are obviously topical, and from the periodic cheers at the screening this reviewer attended, there’s clearly an appetite for movies about them in a significant segment of the audience.

But the simplistic treatment by Bianculli seems designed merely to pander than to analyze in any serious way; it lacks even the modest dimensions that Nick Cassavetes and Denzel Washinton brought to “John Q.” in 2002.  And the actors suffer in their sketchy, one-note roles.  Hoult is capable enough, but it’s only in the last act that he gets to break loose.  By that point Kravitz’s role has become totally thankless, as Reagan simply wanders about looking at the mayhem around her; and even before that, the only “characterization” she’s been given is to have the hacker constantly scarf down cheese puffs and French fries.  The sole person to rise above it all is Reilly, who seems to recognize the tongue-in-cheek possibilities of the material and proceeds with a twinkle in his eye (and the cleanest-shaven visage he’s ever presented on screen). 

On the other hand, you can credit production designer David Scheunemann for presenting Pittsburgh in all its rustbelt seediness—except for the banks, of course, which are gleaming oases of power and profit.  Costumer Jocelyn Pierce adds some telling touches to the wardrobe.

Thoroughly obnoxious and egregiously stupid, this puerile screed against capitalism is brought to you courtesy of—wait for it—Amazon.