I enjoyed the company of the con artists in The Sting because…well, the story happened in fabled times (i.e., the Great Depression) and because Paul Newman, Robert Redford, Ray Walston, Harold Gould, Eileen Brennan and the other guys in the crew had that schwing and because they were looking to get revenge for the death of Luther Coleman. But I don’t like con artists as a rule, and certainly not in a 2015 context. Greedy sociopaths who create or build nothing…takers. How are they different from the serpents who are living high off the hog on the froth of today’s 1% economy? On top of which I haven’t liked Will Smith since his performance in Six Degrees of Separation (’93). He’s always struck me as aggressively hollow.