Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Ethan Hawke star as Andy and Hank, brothers living separate and dissimilar lives but equally unhappy with the way their hand has played out. Just past the point where mid-life crisis makes the most sense, the troubling notion that “this” is all there is has given way to a certain desire for more that would allow outrageous or foolish action.

Andy has a beautiful and sexy wife, Gina (Marissa Tomei). However, the last time it seems he was attracted to her enough that he – shall we say “performed” – was a recent vacation in Rio. It is that brief spike of happiness that opens the film, in fact, no “performance” issues in sight. And it’s damn brave of Lumet to open a film with Phil Hoffman laying into Marissa Tomei from the backside, but at his age and with his credentials, the guy knows how to get your attention.

Hank, meanwhile, owes considerable child support and is more often than not seen apologizing for and feeling sorry for his broken family. He and Gina have been engaging in an affair for God knows how long, he’s in love with her, and she seems to take deep-seeded umbrage with the fact that her own husband doesn’t find her attractive anymore, burying herself in the sheer physicality of what she has with Hank.

Andy devises a scheme with the air of poseur about him. They both need money, though Andy is less than forthcoming with his apparent financial woes. He wants to knock off a mom and pop jewelry store and hopes to enlist Hank’s assistance. The money would solve both of their problems, and given that the merchandise is insured, no one gets hurt. Oh, and the “mom and pop jewelry store” belongs to their parents, Charles and Nanette (Albert Finney and Rosemary Harris respectively).

Yeah, it’s a screwed up family.

The robbery goes awry when Hank brings a third party, Bobby, into the fold. Nanette, who wasn’t supposed to be at the store, is shot and killed. Hank begins to get squeezed by Bobby’s wife and brother-in-law. The IRS discovers Andy has been stealing from his company and Charles starts to put the pieces together. If it isn’t obvious, it’s a painful sequence of events to watch.

What actually elevates the effort above what could have been a throwaway some flunky could have cooked up and passed off as a film are the two performances at the center of the piece. They are no doubt due to the steady, confident, assured and tested hand of a living legend behind the camera.

This is Hoffman’s best performance since “Owning Mahowny,” and yes, that includes his overrated impressions in “Capote.” He absolutely lives inside this character, offering a weird, almost terrifying glimpse of a man ruined by a trying childhood and angry with his father for God knows what. And these aren’t details that find themselves even close to the surface. One outburst might say it all for Andy, but it’s the details that said outburst illuminates in other portions of the film that spotlight why this is a killer performance worthy of awards recognition.

Hawke is spot-on in a role that finally makes good use of that awkward realism he struggles to convey in perhaps one too many performances. When Hank starts to unfold, it’s real and we feel it and, damn it, it doesn’t feel like a movie anymore. When the stakes get higher, Hawke’s reactions seem paradoxically polished in their imperfection. Thrown into the mix is the sense that Hank is a romantic, buried by the cynicism of reality and the hardships of an unforgiving city.

Marissa Tomei – God bless her – walks around the film topless for the most part, but offers a performance ranging from sexy, vulnerable and optimistic to weary, defeated and cynical. Albert Finney is good if somewhat elusive, while Rosemary Harris has little to do but emboss a character we’re actually sad to see go, despite what little we know of her.

“Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead” is one of the best films of the year if only because it does so much with so little. The story is conveyed in a broken narrative fashion that would seem unnecessary at first, but one discovers the choice oddly enlightens the viewer to the inner workings of the characters at a deliberate and particular pace, allowing for a certain marinating quality. That Lumet is still knocking stuff like this out of the park at his age is becoming almost an expected fact, but there is something special working within the frames of this picture. You just don’t come across a filmmaker able to drill this deep anymore.