Noah Segan’s The Only Living Pickpocket in New York is an ode to a past New York City and the films set there. John Turturro plays Harry, an old-school pickpocket who’s become out of step with the modern world around him. As a fourth-generation New Yorker, Segan’s roots in the city run deep, though we’ll have to forgive him for setting up shop in Hollywood. Despite his west coast address, it’s clear the filmmaker has a sincere love and understanding of the city, as well as the colorful characters that call it home.
I spoke with Segan during the 2026 Sundance Film Festival about his favorite New York movies, Ricky Jay, and John Turturro’s dancing.
The Film Stage: What made you want to write this story about an aging pickpocket in New York?
Noah Segan: I have always been drawn to things that are tactile. I’m a collector. I’m a lover of analog things. I love magic. I love the idea of skills. That all guided me. As I’m writing, it constantly leads me into these worlds that people don’t talk about because it’s just not in fashion. So I came to this idea of pickpockets and crime. I’m not a criminal, but I’m looking for things that I can wrap my head around and this was one of them. In terms of New York, and the New York I grew up in—of the ’80s and the ’90s—during which crime was still a big part. It just started to make sense.
Which came first? A New York story or a pickpocket story?
I think the pickpocket bit came first. The idea of, you know, “What is magic in the real world?” This guy is a magician. He’s Ricky Jay. He’s got this incredible ability, and how does that function in reality? And where does that function? The place I know the best.
Noah Segan
How long have you been working on this idea?
About eight years ago, I decided to stay home with our infant daughter when my wife went back to work, as opposed to doing what I’ve been doing for most of my life, which is being what they call a character actor—a guy who takes the gig and goes and does it. We both work in show business, so one of us having a steady gig was enough for me to stay. While I was home with her and she was napping, I was writing the script. I happened to finish it when Rian [Johnson] was gearing up to do the first Knives Out movie. He said, “Hey, man. Come on out and do this.” I showed him the script, and he said, “You know, I think if things go well with this movie, maybe we could start a company and this could be the kind of thing the company could help make.”
What’s it like making a movie in the city these days?
It’s funny. For those of us from New York, whether it was me or John [Turturro] or much of our crew, it felt like an adventure. It felt like, “Well, of course, we’re going to do this, because that’s what people in New York do. They do crazy shit and they kind of get away with it. By the skin of your teeth, we make it happen.” The people who were not from New York were like, “How the hell are we going to do this? What do you do with a subway? Do you rent a subway? What do you mean you sneak on a subway? What do you mean, you just put the camera on the street?” Well, people don’t worry about that. They just go about their business.
What were you looking for in each of those individual locations?
I was looking for something that felt like recognition to me. That was going up to the neighborhood in the Bronx where my grandfather grew up, which is not far from Arthur Avenue, and that scene. Going out to Queens, where my brother lives. Shooting in the part of Brooklyn that I was born in––Prospect Park South, Ocean Avenue. I was looking for places that felt like my home. And then the Staten Island of it all, it’s funny: I spent more time on Staten Island shooting this movie than I did the previous 40 years of my life. But the idea of going over the Verrazano Bridge and having this view of the city that we don’t see that often. Usually we see the city from Jersey, from this other perspective. But from the water on the Staten side of the Verrazano, you really get a picture of the city while being in the city.
What were your references for the film?
There’s so many great “people on the run in New York” movies. As much as I love After Hours and as much as I love the Safdies, a movie that I kept going back to was Desperately Seeking Susan. Another one I always think of as a companion piece to Desperately Seeking Susan is The Linguini Incident. You know, I’m just going to reference Rosanna Arquette movies. Mikey and Nicky is there, but also Nicole Holofcener shows a lot of New York in a really elegant, beautiful way.
And then outside of New York, John and I really connected on a mutual love of Robert Mitchum and how he really embodied a sensitive masculinity. He was never afraid to be gentle while being Robert Mitchum, while being one of the great cops of our day. Out of the Past, The Friends of Eddie Coyle, even though that’s set in Boston. I’ve got a big Friends of Eddie Coyle poster in my house. Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia came up as well, which is another great run-around movie. It’s set in Mexico, but also it’s about a guy who can’t stop moving.
What are some underappreciated movies that are set in New York? Ones that people don’t get out to see often enough.
As a genre man, Ganja & Hess is a great New York movie. It has this off-the-wall genre thing going on.
It is, though it doesn’t feel really like it’s New York either. It has such an otherworldly nature to it.
It’s a fairy tale, right? And yet it is very New York. Across 110th Street was something that came up a lot for us. Hal Hartley and Whit Stillman are very much in this film as well. Movies that may have not been made with huge budgets, but were made very much in New York.
© 2026 Sundance Institute | photo by Jemal Countess
Originally, you wanted John Turturro’s character Harry to be older. Was there someone in particular you had in mind?
The only actor whom I ever thought of very early on, because of the connection to magic, was the late, great Ricky Jay. He obviously was a student of criminology as much as a student of magic, and a great New Yorker. I got to know him shortly before he passed a little bit, so in my mind, I don’t even know if I was thinking of Ricky particularly, or if it was more the concept of Ricky and the specificity of Ricky, because there was only one Ricky.
Then when it came time to cast the movie, I was like, “Well, shit, there’s only one John Turturro.” I never thought that was going to happen. It was one of those things where if we’re gonna make this movie, we’ve got to take a big swing. Why not? Why can’t I win the lottery? We sent it to John and he was like, “Let me have lunch with this guy tomorrow,” thinking that I’m in New York. I was like, “I’m in L.A. Let me hop on this flight tonight.” We had some soup and fell in love.
How much of the hostility toward technology is based in your own struggles or frustrations?
When I became a dad, I was like, “I don’t want to be a fuddy duddy.” I want to be there for my kids, which means having a finger on the pulse and not necessarily being some old-school guy who is only into the analog shit. But I also don’t want to lose what we have. And that means I don’t want to lose the city that we have. I don’t want to lose the objects that we have. Whether it’s the watches or the phones that don’t have the screens on them or the clothing that lasts forever. I don’t think that there are mutual exclusivities, but I do want to protect the things that are real. That’s a big part of what’s happening with film and television right now and with storytelling. How do we protect these things we love?
Tell me about that scene of John dancing to “Native New Yorker.” It’s so joyful and he just seems so into it.
I put that song on a playlist that I shared with John. It was sort of a stream-of-consciousness thing I was doing where I was trying to find music I loved that I thought represented vibes from the movie. And he said, “You know, man, I remember this song. I remember going to nightclubs and dancing to that song.” And John loves to dance. He’s a great dancer; he’s a trained dancer. Very early on in the process, he sent me a video of him in his office dancing to the song. And I swear to God, I could hear his wife downstairs, going, “John, are you dancing to that song again?”
He was just in the groove and I thought, “You know, we’ve got to find that moment.” Because Harry is a guy who starts off looking for a win, and we don’t know the last time he had a win. He’s doing his thing, he’s making ends meet, and I wanted him to have a moment where he had a win. And that win was also a win for John, and it was a win for me and [cinematographer] Sam [Levy]. When we shot that scene, it was just me, Sam on the camera, John dancing in the room, and Karina [Arroyave], who played his wife Rosie. The four of us just got to have a little party, and that’s kind of what the movies are about. It’s a moment in the movie. It’s a real moment in the movie, and a moment for us.
What were some places or aspects of the city you didn’t get a chance to include?
It’s funny: at our kids’ preschool they had a Culture Day. Everybody is supposed to bring something that represents their culture. On the sign-up sheet, somebody had already picked bagels. I thought, “All right, what about hot dogs?” And my wife goes, “What do you mean, hot dogs?” I said, “Well, hot dogs—that’s my culture. It’s, like, New York culture. It’s like bagels. Papaya King, Gray’s Papaya, Nathan’s are New York culture.” My wife, still to this day, makes fun of me. I would have loved to have had Harry having a pineapple champagne and a recession special up on 72nd Street at some point.
You got B&H in there.
We got B&H! We didn’t get Papaya Dog, but we got B&H and that was such a win. The folks who run B&H, Ola, is in the movie, and you can hear Leo in the background chopping it up on the grill. That was so special because, as a punk rock kid who spent a lot of time sneaking into Niagara and going to shows at Coney Island High and making my way down to ABC No Rio, Arlene’s Grocery… Yonah Schimmel’s! Man, I wish we got Yonah Schimmel’s in there—best knish in town. But being able to start the movie at B&H with a plate of matzo brie, I think sets the tone.
The Only Living Pickpocket in New York premiered at the 2026 Sundance Film Festival