The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen is about a struggling writer trying to make money while preserving his status in the insular Amsterdam literati. When Zwaen comes across a bag of money at a multiple murder scene he does what anyone in a movie would do. Soon the pretentious Zwaen, who thinks he’s smarter than everyone else, learns that maybe he isn’t quite as canny and clever as the circling cops and criminals.

The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen Movie Review

You’ve seen The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen premise before. Probably a few times. But The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen thrives on the specificity of its milieu and a deliberate pace that subverts our expectations with characters that all do more or less what seems to make sense.

Gerard F. Zwaen himself (Peter van de Witte) is a pompous ass, prone to lecturing people about artistic authenticity, mainly when he’s trying to get money from them. At first Zwaen seems like he’s getting away with his little money grab, talking his way out of several police interrogations by stalling with a cigarette until he can concoct some lie that he believes the police too dumb to see through.

The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen Trailer

UK TRAILER The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen from CTM Pictures on Vimeo.

Enter Leon (Ton Kas), a corrupt cop managing a complex deal for his deadly backer: the brutish money-man, Clyde (Michiel Romeyn).

Kas’ hangdog Leon is unlike any corrupt cop you’ve seen, treated more like a calm and collected private dick than a dissolute bad lieutenant as he untangles the money trail that leads inexorably to Zwaen and his fancy new apartment. Leon and Zwaen’s scenes are some of the best in The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen, as it slowly—ever-so-agonizingly-slowly—dawns on Gerard that he’s deeply outfoxed by this man he had imagined beneath his intellect.

Clyde, with his workmanlike application of violence, could have been an Anton Chigurh sociopath, but instead seems eminently reasonable most of the time. And while Leon and Clyde butt heads, The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen is so fun in part because the cops, criminals, and Zwaen all spiral toward violent confrontation with an inexorable reasonableness. There are no movie psychopaths, just a lot of people making incremental choices until they’re so twisted up that someone has to break.

While this Dutch Simple Plan is playing out, we’re also treated to what I can only imagine is a spot-on and satirical dive into the 90’s Amsterdam literary scene. As Zwaen balances his money trap with pompous, decaying-author dinners, anxious dreams, and busted deadlines we’re almost gifted a second movie. Bookends involving a staid morning literary talkshow are especially fun and may remind viewers of Owen Wilson in The Royal Tenenbaums, with Zwaen airing out his simultaneous pretentiousness and fragility in front of an unrelenting camera.

The joys of The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen are not in the twists and turns of the plot (though it is tightly constructed), but in watching director Max Porcelijn and a phenomenal cast unspool a neo-noir so rich and perfectly envisioned it feels like a worn and well-read paperback pulled down from the shelf for a rainy day reread.

The Glorious Works of G.F. Zwaen screened at Fantastic Fest 2015.