Shooting Fish (1997)

Shooting Fish is the kind of nimble British caper that wins you over on sheer charm: it’s light on its feet, sharp in its dialogue, and buoyed by two leads who make even the most brazen schemes feel oddly endearing. The movie has a breezy, feel-good vibe—more romantic mischief than hard-edged crime—where the fun comes from watching quick minds improvise their way through trouble and flirtation alike. It’s consistently funny without straining for punchlines, and its warmth sneaks up on you between the scams. If you’re expecting a gritty con thriller, look elsewhere, but if you want an easy, witty romp with a generous smile, this one’s a delight.

Shooting Fish is aiming for a cheeky, romantic British caper where lovable scammers bounce from one hustle to the next, and on that level it has a light charm and an easygoing vibe. The problem is it often feels like it’s coasting on its premise: you can see the beats coming, the structure is a bit wobbly, and the jokes lean into a dated, occasionally juvenile cheesiness. By the time the third act arrives, it piles on plot threads instead of tightening the screw, which hurts the pace and makes the whole thing feel longer than it should. If you want a slick, tightly written con movie with escalating tension, this likely won’t satisfy—but if you’re in the mood for a low-stakes, 90s rom-com caper, you might still find it mildly pleasant.