In Hot Art, which expands on an essay that originally appeared in The Walrus, journalist Joshua Knelman takes an in-depth look at the big business of art theft. His method is straightforward: interviewing investigators and experts on art crime in various major markets (New York, Los Angeles, London, Montreal, and at home in Toronto) to paint a picture of this complex criminal subculture.

Knelman places the reality of art crime in opposition to the Hollywood-constructed myth of the dashing art thief, most memorably expressed in Norman Jewison’s 1968 film The Thomas Crown Affair. This image, however, is so obviously a myth it scarcely needs much exploding. As it turns out – and as one might expect – art theft is much like any other criminal enterprise, with most of the dirty work, as well as the risk, undertaken by break-and-enter types who then pass the goods on up the food chain. Knelman’s interviewees, including a talkative English player named “Paul,” fill in the details of how the system takes it from there. The art theft market tracks the legitimate art market, which in turn benefits from a flood of new money injected by buyers at the top of the global financial pyramid. As a pair of Canadians discovers when they try to fence some hot property, it’s not a game for punters.

Though the reality may not be like Hollywood’s version, it still makes for an entertaining story (complete with a bizarre and unexpected twist at the end). Despite the fact that this process is mainly a form of money laundering, with art being traded as currency, there is still something glamorous about it all. And while art theft, especially the high-profile theft of what Paul calls “headache art,” is not a victimless crime, it is one whose well-insured victims – typically either institutions or the very, very rich – are often hard to feel sorry for.

A fault in Knelman’s approach is his over-reliance on interviews to tell his story. Much of the book reads like transcription: Knelman simply lets his subjects talk without interjecting much in the way of his own commentary. A reader comes away from the book unsure of what conclusions the author has drawn. This does not, however, prevent readers from drawing their own, or enjoying the work on display.