A funny thing – perhaps even a flipped-turned upside down thing – happened on the way to "Focus": The world fell out of love with Will Smith.

As the release of his new rom-con (I insist on making this a thing) approached, the narrative suddenly shifted to Smith needing a return or a comeback of some kind, that the Fresh Prince had gone a touch stale and his star had dimmed. As crazy as that sounds, it’s not inaccurate. Between now and 2008’s "Hancock," Smith’s filmography only has three movies (not including his cameo as a Jimi Hendrix-rocking devil in "Winter’s Tale," because there’s no reason to be mean) each one a disappointment financially, critically or in most cases both.

It might be age catching up him – no longer able to play the brash, energetic young action roles that made up much of his golden era – or perhaps a slight case of Scientology backlash. Or maybe audiences figured him to be just as disposable as many of his movies – many of which only pop into mind when they pop up on TNT or FX – with "After Earth" serving as the toxic tipping point. Viewers are a forgiving folk, but tricking audiences into seeing an M. Night Shyamalan movie AND a Jaden Smith star vehicle? The olive branch only extends so far.

Which brings us to "Focus," a fairly small, R-rated con movie that was never going to be the blockbuster to bring Smith firmly back up to sure thing box office status. What it does do, however, is nicely kill about two hours in sexy, sleek and breezily enjoyable fashion – a kind of Ocean’s 6 or 7. No, the film won’t perform career CPR, but it’s a significant, infinitely more entertaining upgrade from stone-facedly bleeding out in a silly wrecked spaceship.

A Cary Grant-suave Smith plays Nicky, the leader of a happy band of con artists using mind tricks and quick hands for carefully planned and grandly scaled small-time swindles – heading to tourist traps to snatching purses, rings and credit cards by the dozen. One quiet night on the town, he runs into Jess (Margot Robbie, "The Wolf of Wall Street"). Or more like she – a grifter herself, albeit young and far less seasoned – runs into Nicky, using him as a mark on a failed job.

Nicky easily dismantles the attempt, but he sees potential in the feisty Jess, while she sees a smart, sophisticated teacher in him. After playing a bit of cat-and-mouse and a few tests swiping her way across New Orleans, Jess steals her way onto Nicky’s team – and, wait for it, into his heart. Of course, that’s a problem considering his oft-repeated mantras about focus and emotional distance. "There’s no room for heart in this game," preaches Nicky, something that’ll sound very familiar to anybody who’s ever seen a movie about con artists before.

In fact, much of "Focus" will play very familiar to anybody who’s ever seen a movie about con artists before. There are plenty of the usual twists and turns, two-facing and backstabbing, plus some psychological behavioral talk to give some credence to the cons. And like a well-executed con, writer-director tandem Glenn Ficarra and John Requa (the miserably punctuated "Crazy, Stupid, Love.") do a good job of tricking you into seeing what the duo wants you to see – read: something fresh and new – and buying in despite your totally founded reservations.

A big part of that comes courtesy of the updated smooth, sexy "To Catch a Thief" vibe – or, considering the plot, "To Train a Thief" – radiating from the movie. Like that Hitchcock classic, "Focus" is light and flimsy, but it also feels like classic Hollywood glamour entertainment: a bubbly concoction of beautiful people wearing snazzy clothes and trading charming and snappy flirtations in equally beautiful locales. Its seduction lies almost solely with its style and its stars.

As far as the latter goes, the movie is set. Smith’s star might have faded – or aged, making him a touch miscast here; with 20 years on his co-star, he’s a more convincing mentor than love interest – but his charisma still shines off the screen. He’s still effortlessly smooth, an easy fit with Ficarra and Requa’s slick dialogue and the movie’s con man choreography.

Even with the miscasting, he matches wits well with Robbie – a breakthrough in "The Wolf of Wall Street," playing a turn on Scorsese’s usual Lorraine Bracco/Sharon Stone role. In both, she’s radiant on screen playing strong, confident and sometimes calculating characters – often using her sexuality and flirtations as a handy tool – invested with human cores just under the controlled cool and beauty. She can be light and grounded at the same time, making her ideal for the con games and romantic games being played throughout "Focus."

The film’s style complements its stars quite nicely. Ficarra and Requa shoot their locales – New Orleans, Buenos Aires and New York City – with plenty of sultry, seductive allure, warm shades mixing with bright splashes of color, like a fiery red dress. And speaking of dresses, everyone’s outfitted and accessorized to the nines – one of Jess’ hairdos even faintly recalls Grace Kelly.

In the end, it’s hard not to fall for the film’s world filled with good-spirited con artists – a fun montage sequence makes it seem like New Orleans is pleasantly infested with them – and suave banter, a Hollywood fast-fingered fantasy world where a quick lesson in the snow on pick-pocketing plays like a dance number, a collection of effortlessly intricate and intricate moves and rhythms. The visuals, music and stars nicely align to make it one of the more heated snowy evenings in NYC history.

Unfortunately, "Focus" reaches its peak well before the job is over. After a terrific set piece at the Not Super Bowl – one that simmers with slow tension, fun-turned-fierce performances, smart plotting and a surprisingly clever use for the crime movie soundtrack cliché "Sympathy for the Devil" – the story takes a significant turn. The lead couple splits apart, and the story jumps ahead several years to hop onto a new job – something involving auto racing and a frontrunner (Rodrigo Santoro, "300") with a secret formula.

Soon after, the fun bubbly fizz of "Focus" starts to flatten out, its sultry soufflé jostled just enough to deflate it a touch. The stylish con intricacies, as well as the stars’ verbal and psychological duels, are still entertaining (there’s a funny exchange about untrustworthy Australians, even funnier since Robbie’s an Aussie herself) but, as a result of the increasing tilt toward drama, they’re less easy and playful.

Plus, drama doesn’t play toward Smith’s strengths. Smooth charm is his game, and while he puts on a convincing stern and serious face, it’s less convincing that anything’s really going on under it. His stone face instantly stonewalls the audience.

The additional weight of a whole new plot with a whole new set of twists and duplicities also makes the film seem much more packed and crowded than it really is. The new game and its set of pawns aren’t developed or interesting enough to make the shift feel particularly worthwhile. And of course, being a con movie, it ends on a cavalcade of more turns and reveals which, like the final cheap scare in a horror flick, genre formula has made more inevitable than exciting. Its unpredictability is kind of predictable (though, coming from somebody who proudly – and wrongly – assumed he knew exactly how the movie would end, there’s a preposterous surprise or two).  

Yet despite those potholes along the way, "Focus" is overall a quite pleasant ride. Fitting for a con movie, it seems to have stolen some advice – plus a bit more, if we’re being real – from "Ocean’s 11": Be specific but not memorable, be funny but don’t make him laugh. He’s gotta like you then forget you the moment you’ve left his side.

Following that sound advice, "Focus" swiftly and seductively steals two hours, and when the thieves are the charismatic likes of Smith and Robbie, all you can do is smile and tip your cap.