Old School. Biblically Independent.
By Dustin Rowles | Film | October 30, 2026
There is a particular house style you can expect from most Prime Video films, and once it reveals itself (usually you can spot it in the trailer from a mile away), you can predict with 92 percent accuracy what kind of film you’re in for: Bland, pasty slop. It’s a brain-smoother. I mean: Look at the image above from the poster. It’s exactly that.
These movies must generate decent engagement, and someone must like them. People who switched off their brains in 2007, I assume. There’s nothing challenging or interesting about them, save for the occasional actor doing their damnedest to claw above the material. They remind me of those old-school toy race car tracks (do they still make those?), where a car just loops the track over and over and over.
Anyway, that’s Masterplan. It stars Stanley Tucci as the guy desperately clawing above the material, alongside a bunch of actors who speak French and/or Italian, because it’s an English-French-Italian co-production, which tells you this movie was never designed to be good. It was engineered to court certain international demographics.
Tucci plays Roger, a master thief. He hires two other thieves, Jay (explosives specialist) and Chiara (hacker), to pull off a break-in, then ambushes them afterward with another gig: Steal the Mona Lisa from the Louvre. Oh, and also, he informs them that they’re siblings and that he’s their father.
From there, Masterplan drops onto that heist-movie race car track (spoilers, not that any of it isn’t glaringly obvious from the outset): Forty-five minutes of preparation. A complication. The execution. The twist, which in this case is that Roger is not their father. He conned them into stealing the Mona Lisa so he could pay off his debts. But when the police close in, Roger surrenders to save Jay and Chiara because, even though he’s not their actual father, the heist has bonded them, and they’re now his only family. So, you know: HallmarkGPT wrote the script (with Thomas Vincent and David Wolstencroft supplying the prompts).
And that’s about it. It’s one of those movies that hammers every plot point three times (in case you dozed off), the acting — even Stanley Tucci’s — lies flat and lifeless, and Masterplan will eventually, mercifully, end, and presumably vanish from your Prime Video recommendations.
