Matchstick Men is the odd instance of a film that is better than it should be. In a lesser director’s hands, the story would land in the cineplex near you with the thud of an annoying ton of bricks. But as with any good con, there’s more than what meets the eye in this bait-and-switch character study.

Nicolas Cage stars as Roy, a seasoned professional in the game of con artistry with a laundry list of mental distresses that includes agoraphobia and obsessive-compulsive disorder. His cocky partner and friend, Frank (Sam Rockwell) is there to keep his head in the game, always encouraging him to go for a big score. But when Roy seeks the help of a psychiatrist (Bruce Altman), we learn that he fathered a child whom he has never met. When he meets his daughter Angela (Alison Lohman), father-daughter bonding results in her becoming entangled in his uncommon occupation.

Based on the novel by Eric Garcia, Matchstick Men is a familiar stew, its ingredients lifted off the faded recipe cards of previous films. But this time it’s Ridley Scott in the kitchen, bringing his own brand of stylish spice.

Nicolas Cage is earnest as the consummate loser-in-winner’s-clothes. Rockwell brings brash good humor to Frank, while Lohman nails her performance. The story zig-zags here and there, often moving sideways rather than forward. And the dialogue, in its strivings for comic/dramatic ambivalence, goes through the first part of the film knee-deep in a lukewarm mix of the two.

But this only enhances the film. No one is consistently witty or cool, characters often say stupid things and are uncomfortably sappy; the smooth, quick rate at which players bounce from scene to scene makes their bumbling quite apparent. This reminds you that you’re watching people rather than crime genre cliches trading snappy, empty witticisms. Matchstick Men captures the honesty that lurks beneath the surface of the madly grifting main characters and shows that con men can be human first.