Opens at Metro and other theaters, Fri., March 30. Rated R. 99 minutes.

Chris Pratt (a terrific Joseph Gordon-Levitt) drives into the dark, clear night accompanied by the ethereal Southern-rock strains of My Morning Jacket and his stunning blond girlfriend. Chris kills the headlights, so as to woo and wow his girl with a sky full of fireflies, but their giggles are drowned out by the sound of crunched metal and shattered glass. Years pass, and when next we see the shattered stud, he’s in therapy, trying to piece together the fragments of his battered brain. He’s trapped—by his guilt, by his injury, by the old man who gives him just enough dough to pay rent, by a bright future that turned into a shit present—which is why Chris, the least likely candidate for a bank heist, bites when a guy from high school (Matthew Goode) baits the hook. The Lookout has a few plot holes (involving a security system and a character who simply vanishes with no explanation), but when considered as a whole, when appreciated and absorbed from hypnotic start to thrilling finish, it works. And Gordon-Levitt’s worth the admission all by his lonesome. He’s that good—the proverbial young man with an old soul who brings unexpected depth, complexity, and sincerity to what could have been just another damaged-guy role. He’s the one to look out for.