From Small Time Crooks’ one-sheet, you might think the film is a kids' movie.  It features a shadowy figure munching on a chocolate-chip cookie, while the title seems to be a play on words, with the implication that the “crooks” in question may be diminutive in height.  Relax, pedophobiacs – there isn’t a child anywhere in Crooks.

Crooks starts off like a modern-day version of The Honeymooners.  A dishwashing ex-con named Ray Winkler (Woody Allen) dreams of retiring to Miami, where he wants only to swim and spend time at the dog track.  One day, the former stick-up man hatches a plan to rob a Manhattan bank by renting an abandoned pizza parlor on the same block and tunneling into the bank’s vault.  As Ray sees it, the only thing that stands between him and his big score is his wife Frenchie (Tracey Ullman, Tracey Takes On), a derisive manicurist that becomes immediately suspicious when her husband brings home a box of chocolates before revealing his devious robbery plans.  When she hesitates, Ray practically sends her to the moon, Ralph Kramden-style.

Aiding Ray in his attempt to convince Frenchie to go along with his idea are his two friends and cohorts, Tommy (Tony Darrow, Mickey Blue Eyes) and Denny (Michael Rapaport, Deep Blue Sea), who are described as being “so dumb that they never graduated kindergarten because they were drafted.”  The three would-be criminals need Frenchie for both her monetary contribution to their scheme, as well as to run the cookie store that will serve as a front while the men burrow toward the bank vault.

Of course, the bank heist doesn’t go as planned, and the bumbling burglars instead decide to franchise Sunset Cookies, which has become so popular that they’ve hired Frenchie’s dimwitted cousin May (Primary Colors writer Elaine May).  One year later, everyone involved in Sunset is filthy rich and are even interviewed by 60 Minutes’ Steve Kroft in a particularly funny segment.  All of this takes place in the Crooks first half-hour.

The remaining hour of Crooks focuses on how money affects the Winklers' relationship.  Ray despises being rich and longs for his old life back, while Frenchie dives headfirst into Manhattan’s high society, despite having horrendous taste in both decorating and fashion (in other words, she turns into Carmella Soprano).  Frenchie, a former stripper, also hires an art dealer (Hugh Grant, Mickey Blue Eyes) to teach her to how to become a more proper socialite by escorting her to museums and performance art shows that Ray wouldn’t be caught dead attending.

If there’s one thing that Allen can do (besides writing fantastically original screenplays), it’s eliciting great performances from his actors.  In his last film, Sweet & Lowdown, both principal actors (Sean Penn and Samantha Morton) received Oscar nods.  Hell, he even made Mira Sorvino an Oscar winner in Mighty Aphrodite.  And Crooks is no different - the film features some of the best comedic acting that you will ever see.  Period.  Crooks is also one of Allen’s loudest films, with cinematographer Fei Zhao perfectly capturing just how loud and gaudy Frenchie’s taste became once she came into money.

Crooks is Allen’s thirty-second directorial effort, and the first he’s featured himself in since 1997’s Deconstructing Harry.  Since then, the sixty-four-year-old has appeared in several unbilled cameos (The Impostors and A Soldier’s Daughter Never Cries), provided the voice for an animated film (Antz) and been the subject of a documentary (Wild Man Blues).  It’s also the second film that the prolific, twenty-time Oscar nominee has released in the last six months.

1:35 - for mild adult language