This intensely involving 2007 character-driven suspense drama is like a big, juicy piece of Shakespearean-level steak from a master filmmaker who knows how to draw out uncommonly ferocious, to-the-edge performances from his actors. Consider for starters - Henry Fonda's lone dissenting juror in "Twelve Angry Men", Katharine Hepburn's delusional Mary Tyrone in "Long Day's Journey Into Night", Rod Steiger's conflicted concentration camp survivor in "The Pawnbroker", William Holden's wintry lion in "Network", and Paul Newman's alcoholic lawyer in "The Verdict". The list encompasses some of the finest screen work of the past half-century, and you can safely add Philip Seymour Hoffman's desperately controlling Andy Hanson to the ranks. At 83, director Sidney Lumet shows no signs of octogenarian fatigue, and in fact, he revels in the melodramatic turns of first-time screenwriter Kelly Masterson's thickly plotted script.<br /><br />The scale of the story is deceptively small as it focuses on the moral compromises that unravel in a family where two brothers have become desperate for immediate cash. Woody Allen followed a similar fraternal dynamic in his last film, the oddly pinched "Cassandra's Dream", but Lumet is neither pinched nor cautious in his fierce approach to this inescapable tale of ambiguity and deception. The plot revolves around a crime that was meant to be victimless. Embezzling funds from his real estate company's payroll to keep his neglected wife Gina happy and to satisfy an expensive drug habit, smooth-talking Andy is about to be exposed in an IRS audit. Meanwhile, his younger brother Hank is a mass of post-divorce, codependent insecurities falling way behind in his alimony and child support payments.<br /><br />Andy concocts a supposedly foolproof plan to rob their parents' suburban jewelry store while neither of them is supposed to be there. The goal was for the brothers to collect the haul, and the parents to claim the insurance. Murphy's Law intervenes in every possible way starting with Andy pressuring Hank to do the job himself. After some brotherly cajoling, Hank agrees to it, but too scared to do it alone, he recruits a reckless, gun-toting busboy to handle the robbery. By fate, the heist occurs on the one day that Andy and Hank's mother is opening the shop, and things quickly spiral out of control from there. Although the back-and-forth storytelling technique is not new (for example, Alejandro González Iñárritu's "21 Grams"), Masterson's approach works effectively in delineating certain events from multiple perspectives so that you understand how each character is led to the repercussions of the unfortunate event.<br /><br />The acting is pitch-perfect starting with Hoffman's riveting performance as Andy, a Machiavellian reptile whose cool exterior and innate amorality mask layers of resentment toward his family. I thought he was great in Tamara Jenkins' "The Savages", but he is even better here. Lumet even draws a solid performance from the usually insufferable Ethan Hawke as Hank, imbuing him with the emasculated weakness that informs his every ill-planned move. As their embattled father, Albert Finney acts with his typical late-career bluster, but he provides the necessary foundation for the Oedipal-level complexities. Marisa Tomei is a smart choice to play Gina, as the actress economically keys in on the responsive, watchful nature of a small but pivotal role. The estimable theater veteran Rosemary Harris (now better known as Peter Parker's aunt in the "Spider-Man" trilogy) has precious little time as the mother, as does Amy Ryan as Hank's bitter ex-wife.<br /><br />There are scenes that border on excessive, especially as the situation becomes increasingly desperate for the brothers, but the principals inject such energetic brio to them that the flourishes become forgivable. After the disappointment of the cartoonish "Find Me Guilty", it is refreshing to see Lumet in peak form here. The 2008 DVD offers terrifically informative commentary from Lumet, Hoffman and Hawke, all of whom converse with ease and insight throughout. Along with the original theatrical trailer, there is also a better-than-average 24-minute featurette, "Directed by Sidney Lumet: How the Devil Was Made", which features on-set footage and snippets of interviews with Lumet, two of the producers and the principal actors.