It’s merely a way to differentiate Troy from Mike insofar as “good” and “bad” goes. Thankfully, Smyth isn’t utilizing this recently well-worn gimmick as the point of his film. And you’d be forgiven for rolling your eyes and letting out a sigh for the death of originality during the opening 10-to-15 minutes too. If that sounds like yet another odd couple case of a cruel pragmatist reliant upon certainty opposite a sweet liability on the Asperger’s spectrum, you’d be correct. Frustration doesn’t, however, excuse the fact that he needs back-up and Troy is good in a pinch-if a bit quick to fall prey to impulse where thoughtful problem-solving is needed. As soon as Mike knows the cash is in-hand, he’s unafraid to let the young pugilist know as much. Responsibility thus falls upon Troy’s shoulders-as someone his brother trusts to do right by him, and as the only other person who knows the money’s hiding place. Derek is the one who helped Mike secure that cash and Derek’s the one who ended up in jail before they could do anything with it. The reason is simple: Troy is only adding “criminal” to his “amateur” title because his brother Derek forced his hand. Where Mike is all business, Troy cannot help himself from living life no matter the stakes, consequences, or his companion’s annoyance.
While it’s as much a monologue to explain writer-director Malachi Smyth’s decision to title his film The Score as it is the set-up to an as yet-to-arrive punchline during the denouement, the real reason for its existence is to let audiences in on the central dynamic.
As Troy (Will Poulter) muses on the car ride out-of-town to meet with “professional criminals” (he and Johnny Flynn’s Mike realize they’re amateurs at best, still trying to move their way up) and exchange 20 grand for unspecified goods, “score” is one of those words with multiple meanings.