During the Great Depression, a con man finds himself saddled with a young girl—who may or may not be his daughter—and the two forge an unlikely partnership.
Over the course of the 21st century, this dead-eyed worship of a nebulous “success” has been so thoroughly metabolized into the culture that it’s impossible to escape. [B]ullshit is now big business, and therefore no longer bullshit; there are no little girls smoking in a motel room a mile away, plotting on your last 10 dollars. [And] we’ve become so starved for artful bullshit that we strain to see it where none exists.
— Paul Thompson (Los Angeles Review of Books)
