The breakout star of Marcus Mizelle’s debut con artist thriller Chameleon has to be musician Jeremy Nathan Tisser, whose dissonant baseline that reverberates throughout the film perfectly adds an ominous air to the proceedings at hand. Let me say this though: I watched this while in the same room as someone watching the Columbo episode “Columbo Cries Wolf,” which features such a wonderful synth line (that suspiciously sounds like the epic score that plays in Mulan as she sneaks out in the middle of the night). I fully believe Mizelle and Tisser should consider re-looping the audio to include it. It would undoubtedly add a vibe to the proceedings.

It’s hard to take Mizelle’s film seriously. I’m beholden to avoid spoilers, and thus, can’t specifically divulge what pulled me straight out of the picture. I can, however, mention exactly where the film lost me, which was right at a third act narrative reveal. On paper, I can see why this reveal might provide the audience with a newly heightened investment for the climactic finish. Unfortunately for Mizelle, all that this reveal serves to do is underscore just how inane the central (and repeated) con of the film is. The bare threads holding this narrative together to this point, dissolve in the wash so to speak.

If you’re working within the scale that Mizelle is here, it’s imperative that your narrative is taut, a truism that is particularly apt when you’re working within noirish trappings. This story of a recently paroled con-man falling back into old habits (Joel Hogan) is primarily about the con itself. There might be other themes or ideas, but the central draw is how well you pull off the con. So, if I do not believe in it, or if I find those performing it to be utterly inept, then none of the other beats land.

I cannot reveal what specifically baffled me about this con, but I can provide the rough outline of it. Hogan plays Patrick, a charming grifter. Our introduction to him is at his parole hearing. He turns on the charm. When he meets up with his former partner Dolph (Donald Prabatah), the duo begin pulling a job that involves Patrick meeting up with and seducing trophy wives, wherein he eventually takes them on a weekend getaway. Here Dolph kidnaps the wife, and holds them for ransom, while Patrick plays the unsuspecting rube who must deliver the news to the husband so Dolph can collect the ransom payment. This is ostensibly the bulwark of the film’s plot.

What Mizelle needs here are the formal aesthetics to bail out the tepid plot. Unfortunately, these choices are mostly uninteresting, save one instance during one of the weekend getaways. Mizelle, who is also the film’s cinematographer alongside Victoria Stein, crafts a mini-montage that is awash in conflicting warm and cold filters. It’s a surprisingly well-done moment. Otherwise, nothing particularly stands out save Tisser’s score, which isn’t even implemented well, but is at least interesting to consider.

The film also lacks an element of camp that might otherwise provide some levity. The most damning criticism I can offer of Chameleon is that it feels like a television movie of the week; the kind that winds up buried somewhere in the annals of Netflix of Amazon Prime. The twist feels ludicrous, but the real crime is that I was apathetic outside of my one moment of befuddlement.