Fabian Bielinsky's Nine Queens is an intricate and rewarding Argentinian crime story that shifts its way from shakedown to grift to shameless con—all in the proud tradition of the very best shyster flicks. This streetwise Spanish-language beguiler will have you entranced by its sweaty swindles, all the way to its bitterly satisfying end.

Juan (Gaston Pauls) is a young, seemingly naive Argentinian thief. When we meet him, he's short-changing a clerk at a convenience store—pulling a basic scam. He's got a childlike face that belies his true nature. He pulls off the scam but notices that the clerks are changing shifts and decides—with disastrous results—to attempt the short-change trick again. Enter the suave, more experienced con man Marcos (Ricardo Darin), who saves Juan from his own impudence and starts Juan on his way to bigger and better crimes. They make a terrific team: both knowledgeable in the art of petty theft, each coming from different perspectives, and as one falling effortlessly into the teacher-pupil relationship that drives most of the film. And yet so much more is left unspoken between the two—the automatic distrust and sly competitiveness, their ingrained familiarity with their urban surroundings, their grasp of intricate swindles like the complex machinations of a chess game.

Nine Queens is a series of cons that become more and more involving as the movie progresses. You'll find yourself caught up in them, at once cheering on the thieves, rooting for their success, and wondering whether their victims are really victims at all but rather just different breeds of swindler. The plot moves forward briskly to the titular crime: the sale of a fake set of "nine queens," rare stamps bearing the visage of a foreign matriarch but somehow defective and therefore immensely valuable. When our criminal protagonists discover that an obsessive stamp collector is staying at the hotel in which Marcos's sister works, you can just about hear the tumblers falling into the place as our boys' safecracker minds start clicking.

Nine Queens is a terrific time at the movies, a crackerjack thriller that will bring to mind The Sting and even The Usual Suspects. It's the kind of crime film that transcends its celluloid and becomes a kind of con itself. When it's over, you'll want to start it right up again and figure out how Bielinsky pulled it off.

Columbia/TriStar presents Nine Queens in an anamorphic-widescreen transfer of the film's original 1.85:1 theatrical aspect ratio. This is merely a fair transfer that nevertheless has sufficient detail and clarity. Flaws are abundant: Mosquito noise and artifacting—particularly on static backgrounds—give the transfer a shiftiness that becomes an annoyance. Colors appear accurate but not bold, and are prone to smearing. Minor specks and dirt are apparent throughout the presentation. Overall, the film has a flat, muted look, but it's still watchable.

The disc's Spanish Dolby Digital 5.0 track is an adequate sound presentation. The soundtrack has been recorded loud, and dialog seems sometimes harsh or hard-edged, but once turned down, it sounds reasonably accurate. The film's score fares well, wide open in front and spread out further for ambience in the surrounds—which is about all the workout the surrounds get in this presentation.

Unfortunately, the DVD contains only theatrical trailers for Nine Queens, My Wife Is An Actress, and The Lady & The Duke, in non-anamorphic widescreen.

Nine Queens is a sure bet, but much more effort could have been put into the DVD. The image is average, the sound presentation is merely adequate, and the supplements are just about nonexistent. All that for a fairly steep price. Still, I recommend more than a rental. You'll be rewatching this one.