By definition alone, I'm starting to dislike movies based on true stories (or those based on "actual events," which seem to be getting more and more prevalent) that were previously unfamiliar to me.  I might have liked A Beautiful Mind a lot more if I hadn't learned about the numerous negative aspects of John Forbes Nash, Jr.'s life that the film carefully sidestepped. Ditto for Frida and Evelyn.  If I have to sit through a formulaic biopic, the last thing I want to discover is that the filmmakers have sugarcoated things to make their protagonist more likable, which, one would imagine, also makes their job as storytellers a whole lot easier.  Auto Focus is the only recent flick I can think of that faithfully depicted its subject, warts and all.

I have no idea if any warts have been removed from Steven Spielberg's Catch Me If You Can, but I can tell you I don't care if the film received a Ron Howard-esque saccharine shellacking, simply because it isn't a by-the-numbers bore.  You know you're in for a treat when the usually tiresome John Williams provides an appropriately upbeat, '60s-influenced score over the '60s-influenced credits before Can drops us into the audience of television's To Tell the Truth.  The three contestants each claim to be Frank Abagnale, Jr., the world's youngest and most successful con artist, but, of course, only one is being honest.

Our real Abagnale is played by Leonardo DiCaprio (Gangs of New York), who we then see via two separate flashback threads – one as a younger teen in New Rochelle, and one in a Marseilles prison right after he's been nabbed by an FBI agent named Carl Hanratty (Tom Hanks, Road to Perdition).  The former depicts Abagnale in his innocent, formative years, where, by chance, the bust-up of his parental units (Scotland, PA's Christopher Walken and Venus Beauty Institute's Nathalie Baye) happens to coincide with his 16th birthday and, more importantly, the receipt of his very own checking account.  From there, it's off to the races as Abagnale quickly begins a reign of what would eventually become six years of forgery, bank fraud and various career impersonations that will make you think of those "No, but I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night" television ads.

Can really has it all, from super-spy/fox Jennifer Garner's appearance as a high-end hooker, to both of the candidates from this year's presidential election (Martin Sheen and James Brolin), to a somewhat obscure comic book reference that, sadly, is ultimately revealed to viewers.  The acting is solid across the board, and Spielberg's (Minority Report) usual behind-the-camera crew assemble another very enjoyable technical package that is highlighted by the wonderful period sets.  Still, the highlight here is the story, which deftly plays off the unusual cat-and-mouse relationship between a flashy criminal who has become a worthy, friendly adversary to a dull-as-dishwater authority figure with no personal life.  Can is a rare example of a picture getting me to quietly root for a delinquent.  That said, there's still the whole warts issue, and Can never really shows how Abagnale becomes so adept at forgery.

It's probably completely unintentional, but there's an interesting scene in Can where Hanratty goes to the home of the senior Frank Abagnale in an attempt to learn the whereabouts of the man's namesake.  There's a bit of verbal sparring between the two, but the father refuses to give up the son.  Eventually, Hanratty finds a scrap of paper with the younger Abagnale's address.  Keen observers will notice this harkens back to that legendary scene in True Romance, only this time Walken isn't the eager heavy to Dennis Hopper's smart-ass dad.  Well, that and no point-blank execution.

2:20 -

for some sexual content and brief language