Daniel Elías in The Delinquents (MUBI)

If in action movies what matters most is the “how,” then in dramas, the fundamental question is “why.” In one of the most unusual approaches to the heist film genre, The Delinquents stands out primarily as a drama (with more levity than initially suspected) rather than an action-packed thriller. (This is not Ocean’s Eleven.) Nevertheless, it still meets some of the genre’s demands: the preparation and execution of a great robbery, the tension fueled by the probable consequences, and the anticipation of whether the culprits will ultimately succeed. Written and directed by Rodrigo Moreno, this absorbing piece of Argentinian cinema, clocking in at three hours, does not aim to be a vehicle for Hollywood-style coolness and fast-paced action. With sophisticated humor replacing the sense of danger, Moreno is more interested in delving into what drives ordinary people, who have dutifully followed the rules of what is expected and reasonable, to one day risk it all and commit a crime.

The idea of a serene heist film, without tension or chases, may first seem like a contradiction, if not a jest (and this is, in part, a playful movie). However, when you delve deeper into the genre (from Rififi to Point Break), you can trace an existentialist undercurrent in storylines that are typically very male-centric. In this case, the calm and methodical bank robbery committed by two tired middle-aged men is not motivated by greed or desperation. The caper, which occurs in the first half hour, marks the beginning of a profound and personal quest. The crime only arises from the desire to gain an unprecedented freedom, far from the madding crowd of the city and the shackles that bind these men to daily routines with no room for excitement or adventure.

Morán (Daniel Elías), a bank clerk in Buenos Aires, diligently fulfills his job every day. He is the kind of colleague who doesn’t seem to leave a memorable impression. Therefore, it’s a great surprise to Román (Estebán Bigliardi), who leads a slightly less solitary life (he’s married but doesn’t seem to have close friends), when, during a lunch break, Morán reveals in great detail the plan he has executed and how crucial Román’s collaboration will be. It’s an unprecedented opportunity that will bring them benefits in the near future. (Notice the intentional use of anagrams in the men’s names.)

Having a backpack and a suitcase filled with currency, Morán confesses he has stolen significant sums of money from the bank in plain view and needs Román’s help to complete his plan. He carries a generous amount of Argentinian pesos to settle his affairs before he will turn himself in to the police, while the U.S. dollars in the suitcase are the actual loot that must be carefully hidden during the time he serves his sentence. The money will be divided years later. This he hands over to Román. The amount will ensure neither of them has to work for the rest of their lives.

Over several years (and this is where the film justifies its running time), the lives of Román and Morán become forever intertwined by a robbery meticulously investigated by the bank’s insurance company responsible for solving the mystery. Morán eventually surrenders to the authorities as he promised, but the challenge is to find the whereabouts of the money and to determine if there were accomplices. Román continues to work as a teller despite the suspicions about him, while Morán discovers that a prison sentence, which he aims to shorten through good behavior, is not as straightforward as he thought: One of the other inmates presents himself as the gangster who holds sway and demands regular tribute payments for Morán’s security.

At some point, the film stops being particularly concerned about the crime and its repercussions and transforms into something else, elucidating the invisible connections between its protagonists. At different points in the men’s lives, both fall in love with the same woman (Norma, another anagram, played by Margarita Molfino) and embark on an enlightening excursion to rural Córdoba that makes them consider the possibility of a simpler life more connected to nature. Both are also temporally adopted by a group of artists interested in wordplay, reciting poems, and discussing the mortality of cinema when they are not making a documentary.

The Delinquents has little of a heist film, even less of an entertaining action movie, and barely qualifies as a satisfying drama in its resolution. Yet it ends up becoming something much better: an exercise in relaxation; a chance to, along with its characters, focus on what matters beyond the immediate; and a lucid questioning of how lives are often not lived to the fullest and rarely rise above dissatisfaction.

The Delinquents is now streaming on MUBI.