Neil Jordan’s newest film is set in modern-day Nice, a still cosmopolitan but tarnished city that’s fraying at the edges. The seamy side of the French Riviera attracts refugees trying to strike it rich, or just scrape by, as petty criminals, informants, or prostitutes. This underbelly is a cozy place for drug-addled expatriate gambler Bob Montagnet, who’s played by Nick Nolte in the kind of naked and unmannered performance that today’s leading men resist. In the long and jarring opening scene, Bob shoots heroin into his arm in a club toilet, meets a mysterious Eastern European girl, breaks up a bar fight, and steals a passport.

Nolte’s character is modeled on Bob le flambeur, the title character from the 1955 Jean-Pierre Melville film that’s often cited as a precursor to the French New Wave. But Jordan’s film, though rich in a noir-inspired, washed-out atmosphere, takes its anti-hero farther into the depths of self-destruction. Nolte’s Bob isn’t just a gambler, he’s a down-on-his-luck drug addict and something of a fake, spinning stories about his past that may or may not be true, like the seductive tale he tells about the Picasso painting hanging on his apartment wall.

Jordan, one of the great stylists and writers working in movies today, folds the film’s themes of fakery and thievery into his plot: the heist of a Monte Carlo casino. But The Good Thief is no Ocean’s 11, despite a finale reminiscent of the far slicker Soderbergh film. It’s part caper film, part cat-and-mouse thriller — and too steeped in the atmosphere to be plot-centric. Jordan layers the script with two versions of every story, two sides to every character (in the most obvious twist, one thief is a transsexual), and two robberies. Bob is roused from his stupor by the daring plan hatched by a few scrappy fellow thieves to stage a fake robbery of the casino’s perfect remakes of art by the great masters. This heist is just a decoy; the real heist will take place in the vault that holds not cash but the genuine works of art. Twins Mike and Mark Polish (who made Twin Falls, Idaho) appear as criminals whose very identities are a sleight-of-hand.

And, of course, this is a remake. Just as The Crying Game played with illusion in the clashing worlds of crime and romance, The Good Thief pays homage to noir and caper films, not only Bob le flambeur but also Jules Dassin’s great Rififi, while creating its own original story and characters — it’s like great jazz. The Good Thief posits Bob as a quintessential loner who lives for the chase. Roger (Tchéky Karyo), the French cop who pursues Bob, respects him even as he tries to nab him. Bob gives his bed to the vulnerable Anne (Nutsa Kukhianidze) out of a desire to save her from prostitution. He kicks heroin on his own, handcuffed to his bedpost, with orders to Anne and his protégé Paulo (Saïd Taghmaoui) not to help him no matter how much he begs. Nolte plays Bob right on the edge, without any of the romanticized macho posturing that would mark this movie as a Hollywood product (where even anti-heroes are rarely shaded this darkly). Bob is haggard and flawed, speaking in a booze-soaked bark, an addict eager to fill voids. He’s more European than American; he’s also funny and suave. The scenes of Bob squiring Anne around the casino on the night of the heist, under the perplexed gazes of casino security who know something is amiss, are almost giddy.

Jordan’s best efforts, like The Crying Game, have enhanced mood with music; the score for The Good Thief ranges from French pop to Leonard Cohen and Bono. Shot on location in the South of France, the film mixes gritty realism with surrealism, lots of neon being reflected in its rain-soaked streets. As a caper film it’s a mixed bag; as a character study and an exercise in style, it’s a gamble with a satisfying payoff.