The Sicilian Clan (1969)

Four Stars

Henri Verneuil’s The Sicilian Clan was a large budget affair backed by money from Fox and featuring three of the largest stars of French Cinema at the time—Jean Gabin, Alain Delon, and Lino Ventura. Verneuil (Any Number Can Win, A Monkey in Winter) was a director in the “Tradition of Quality” so despised by the New Wave directors, however he had a reputation for making commercial hits and had worked with all three high profile actors before. As part of the deal with Fox, Verneuil shot English and French versions of the film simultaneously, dubbing dialog for performers uncomfortable delivering lines in English. Upon release, The Sicilian Clan was a reasonable success with American audiences and a massive hit in Europe. While not necessarily as revered as other French or Italian crime pictures, The Sicilian Clan still delivers a tightly crafted, beautifully composed thriller with some serious international star power.

The Sicilian Clan opens with a quote from Anton Chekhov “When I paint horse thieves, I do not say that it is wrong to steal horses. This is the jury’s case and not mine…” Originally a response to critics who accused Chekhov of indifference towards good and evil, presumably Verneuil is making the same case for his film. The  protagonists—thieves and killers—will be presented without comment and even their humanity and affections will shine through at times. 

The film begins  with Roger Sartet (Alain Delon) in custody being charged with the murder of two policemen in a robbery gone haywire. Vittorio Manalese (Jean Gabin) and family disapprove of killing but they are willing to assist Sartet in a slickly orchestrated escape—employing what looks like a surgeon’s bone saw—in exchange for a book of valuable stamps. Lino Ventura’s Comissaire Le Goff is introduced as he engages in some verbal sparring with Sartet at police HQ. Le Goff is tough and driven with an unlit cigarette permanently hanging from his lips because it’s “better than nothing.” 

After the initial escape, the pace of things is turned down to a simmer. We get a glimpse into the family dynamics of the Manalese clan. They’re a tight knit bunch with Vittorio as stern patrician. Aldo Manalese’s French wife Jeanne (Irina Demick)—though a competent criminal operative—is somewhat of an outsider. Sartet, cool and defiant, comes to an uneasy agreement to rob a jewelry exhibition with the Manaleses. He also becomes an object of increasing fascination for Jeanne. Le Goff doggedly pursues leads in the hopes to reclaim Sartet and has several tense near misses—aided in part by Sartet’s total inability to lay low. 

The initial plan to rob the exhibition gets discarded due to outdated intel and instead becomes a plan to hijack the plane transporting the jewels to their next exhibit in New York. What follows are a series of intricate set-pieces where the gang must kidnap, impersonate, and deceive their way into overtaking the jet bound for New York. The heist is a success, but crime absolutely does not pay in The Sicilian Clan. 

There isn’t anything technically mind-blowing about The Sicilian Clan—Vincent Canby called it “a tired example of a tired genre”—but it’s still a “big” feature with a supremely assured style and an intercontinental cool to it. In contrast to cinematographer Henri Decaë’s New Wave work, The Sicilian Clan is mostly not shot on location. Instead you get beautifully constructed sets of airports, restaurants, the pinball warehouse, and a gorgeous toy store in Rome. This does lend a certain artificiality to the film, but it’s also painstakingly shot and composed.

 That planning really shines through in the precision action sequences like the opening escape, Sartet evading the police, and the film’s climax. Vernuil’s camera rarely soars but does frame everything perfectly, pushing forward on the action to ramp up the tension. Ennio Morricone’s superb score adds to the overall effect with the catchy main theme and pulse pounding action cues. 

Performances by the three leads are functional and professional—much like the skills of their characters—and they are definitely stars on the screen. Honestly, it’s just fun to watch Gabin and Ventura growl at each other. According to both the featurette and the audio commentary included with the Blu-Ray, the character of Jeanne was mostly added and expanded due to Irina Demick being the mistress of producer Darryl Zanuck. However her inclusion came about, it’s a welcome one and her character is certainly pivotal to the film’s conclusion. 

The Sicilian Clan is a terrifically engaging, slickly made heist film. This is a studio picture designed to please audiences, but that doesn’t take anything away from the fact that they employed an excellent cast and crew at the height of their talent. Besides the fast action set pieces, the pace may seem plodding at times as the plot uncoils, but that just gives the viewer more time to luxuriate in the set and costume details. 

As a set, the Kino Lorber Blu-Ray is excellent. The restoration for both French and English versions look fantastic, with the French being a bit brighter and the English a bit richer. The two versions are actually different films having been shot separately and using slightly different takes—apparently this was a point of contention for Gabin. There isn’t a pronounced difference between the versions, but it is noticeable in cadence with the French being slightly more deliberate and a bit longer. My preference is for the punchier US edit. The featurette is in French and contains interviews with some individuals involved in the production as well as some fun behind the scenes footage. The audio commentary from Howard S. Berger and Nathaniel Thompson is engaging and thorough. Both men have an obvious affection for the film and the period that shines through and they provide valuable context to the production. 

At the time of this writing The Sicilian Clan is rentable on a variety of streaming services as well.

The Brink’s Job (1978)

Three and One Half Stars

In 1978 Dino De Laurentis produced not one but two high profile, period heist pictures—The Brink’s Job and The Great Train Robbery. The latter was more straightforward and arguably a bigger success—Brink’s missed with audiences and critics yet in many ways remains the more interesting film. Director William Friedkin manages to impart an off-kilter tone to the film. Unlike a mainstream caper comedy—it’s not laugh out loud funny and the action isn’t particularly  suspenseful. However, Brink’s is brilliantly cast and gorgeously crafted possessing wonderful moments with some of the finer actors of the era as well as vividly depicting Boston of the mid-20th Century. 

Inspired by real events, The Brink’s Job is the story of some small-time Boston crooks robbing nearly three million dollars from The Brink’s Building in 1950. Peter Falk plays Tony Pino—ringleader and supposedly expert “Pete” man (safecracker)—who approaches the robbery business with more confidence than competence. Always looking for a score, Tony realizes that the Brink’s armored car service is more reliant on their formidable reputation than actual security measures leaving them careless and vulnerable. Pino assembles a crew of other street level guys from the neighborhood including his disastrously inept brother-in-law Vinnie (Allen Garfield/Goorwitz) and bookie Jazz Maffie (Paul Sorvino) to help him rob the Brink’s armored cars and eventually the central safe. 

The characters are somewhat one dimensional as written—this is especially apparent with Gena Rowlands in the thankless role of Tony’s wife—but Friedkin gives the actors space for some beautifully naturalistic, nuanced performances. For much of the film the focus is on the ensemble—keeping Tony’s entire crew within the frame even for individual reaction shots. Yet Falk is at his best in the extensive sequences of Tony casing the Brink’s Building on his own. Friedkin’s choice to add an internal monologue voice-over is unfortunate as Falk’s excellent performance gives the viewer everything they need to follow the story.

One of the stronger character moments in the film takes place post-heist through Warren Oates’ portrayal of shell-shocked demolitions expert Specs O’keefe. Specs is apprehended and jailed on trumped-up charges as part of the FBI’s 50 million dollar man-hunt. During a prison visit from Maffie, Oates transforms Specs into a man on the verge of breaking—fraying at the edges and desperate to get out. While Friedkin previously focused on the crew, in this scene his camera stays on Oates, allowing his performance to unfold and illustrating Specs’ isolation from his former partners. 

This movie looks tremendous and that’s largely due to its incredible production design and attention to detail. Rather than shoot on a set, Friedkin and his team—the award winning production crew from The Godfather Part II—used actual Boston locations in many cases having to remove all trace of modern signs, advertising, and technology. Friedkin demonstrates a true affinity for the street and its inhabitants—shooting in crumbling factories, industrial yards, red-light districts, and filling those shots with remarkably distinct faces resulting in a vibrant historical Boston without the idealized patina of other period films. 

The Brink’s Job is a strange movie and a hard one to rate or review. It’s a heist movie, but it eschews many of the hallmarks of the genre. This is not the story of skilled professionals pulling off the unthinkable—it’s the story of a pack of goofs who manage to execute the job despite themselves. It has comedic moments but much of the craft is in service of its serious side. Still, what craft! In addition to the beautifully recreated period environment, the shot composition and visual storytelling elements at work are marvelous. Brink’s is worth seeking out for heist fans, but an absolute must-watch for Falk or Oates fans as both give top tier performances.

There is a Universal Vault DVD of The Brink’s Job but I would highly recommend the recent Kino Lorber Blu-Ray release. It’s a gorgeous movie and the Blu-Ray transfer is solid, however the real bonus is the audio commentary from film historians Howard S. Berger, Steve Mitchell and Nathaniel Thompson. They’ve all done several good commentaries for Kino and the three have a great rapport.

The Hot Rock (1972)

 

Three and One Half Stars

The Hot Rock (1972) is one of those cinematic aberrations that goes to show how hard it can be to conceive of and execute a hit movie. The pedigree of The Hot Rock is peerless. Screenwriter William Goldman and star Robert Redford were both hot off of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (for which Goldman picked up the Oscar), the screenplay was based on a popular novel by Donald Westlake (who also wrote the Parker novels under the name Richard Stark), and director Peter Yates had already made two crime classics with Bullitt and Robbery. George Segal and the rest of the cast round out the performances admirably and the music is provided by Quincy Jones backed by a veritable murderer’s row of jazz luminaries and studio musicians. The result of all this high profile talent is an entertaining charmer of a caper comedy that never captured the audience it deserved.

John Dortmunder (Redford) is a professional thief and planner of outlandish schemes who can’t seem to catch a break. The film opens with Dortmunder being released from prison only to be intercepted by his optimistic if not entirely professional brother-in-law, Andy Kelp (Segal). Kelp has been contracted to steal a large diamond from the Brooklyn Museum by Dr. Amusa (played to exasperated perfection by Moses Gunn). The gem has a history of being stolen and re-stolen by various African nations—one of which Amusa represents.

The gem’s felonious backstory would prove to foreshadow the events of the film. For each scheme Dortmunder meticulously plans and executes—complications arise to keep the gem out of their hands. Each caper becomes more and more outrageous and each time Dortmunder and Kelp go back to Amusa they must ask for increasingly expensive materiel.  

Redford as the dejected Dortmunder and Segal as the upbeat—though neurotic—Kelp have an effortless chemistry together and along with the rest of the cast—wheelman Murch (Ron Leibman), demolitions man Greenberg (Paul Sand), and his not-entirely-trustworthy father (Zero Mostel!)—strike a wonderfully dry comedic tone. The bickering between the competent but luckless thieves shares a sensibility with Soderbergh’s heist pictures and the scene of Greenberg impassively demonstrating explosives—”I learned this at the Sorbonne”—feels like it could be from an early Wes Anderson film.  When the crew manages to land on the wrong building during the helicopter raid of a police station, Murch instructs Dortmunder to ask for directions to the right rooftop as casually as he might for a missed off-ramp. 

Stylistically there’s nothing particularly flashy about The Hot Rock but the film-making is solid and is notable—in part—due to when it was made. Several of the street scenes were shot guerrilla-style and are populated with real New Yorkers instead of extras. The helicopter photography of the city is stunning and the crew was able to weave in and out of buildings—including the World Trade Center Towers as they were still under construction. The score by Quincy Jones is superb—combining soul, jazz, and funk elements. Jones was able to get such incredible musicians—Carol Kaye, Gerry Mulligan, Grady Tate, Clark Terry—that he insisted they appear in the credits.

There’s a lot to like about The Hot Rock—it’s filled with great actors, genuinely funny moments, a groovy soundtrack, and heists. Instead of one big job, you get multiple capers. They may not always be the most plausible of schemes, but they strike a great balance between compelling action and outrageous circumstances. I think The Hot Rock is mandatory viewing for heist fans—also a nice introduction to the world of Westlake and his Dortmunder stories—but anyone could enjoy watching this on a lazy afternoon.

The Hot Rock is on DVD via 20th Century Fox and is currently available on Blu-Ray from Twilight Time Movies. The Twilight Time disc looks pretty good and has an isolated music track as many of their discs do. It also features an essay and audio commentary with Lem Dobbs, Julie Kirgo, and Nick Redman which is informative yet keeps a spirit of fun to go along with the film.  

After the Fox (1966)

Three and One Half Stars

The sheer level of talent behind After the Fox (1966) would be grounds alone to recommend the film. Vitorrio De Sica directing Peter Sellers with a script by Neil Simon and Cesare Zavattini and music by Burt Bacharach! Peter Sellers gives a characteristically excellent performance as an Italian thief (Aldo Vanucci/The Fox) who convinces an entire town to help him intercept stolen gold by pretending he is a great director and it’s all part of his latest film. It’s an unlikely collaboration and the results aren’t entirely even but After the Fox is wonderfully funny in parts and is an effective satire of both European art films and celebrity.

When a shipment of gold is stolen in Cairo, the thief behind it (Akim Tamiroff) reaches out to a criminal cunning enough to smuggle the goods into Europe—the currently incarcerated Aldo Vanucci. Vanucci is not only capable but is so confident in his abilities he declares his intent to escape prison publicly before doing so. Vanucci’s motivation isn’t strictly the money, but also concern for his sister Gina (played by Sellers’ wife at the time, Britt Ekland) and desire to be a better example for her. “If only I could steal enough to be an honest man!”

The seed for Vanucci’s plan is planted when he sees his star-obsessed sister and the rest of the town go wild for aging actor Tony Powell—played in a delightful bit of self-satire by Victor Mature. Vanucci sets about impersonating a film director so he can leverage both the vanity of Powell and the movie-mania of the public to shield his operation. He adopts the persona of film director, Federico Fabrizi, and his cronies become his crew for the new film The Gold of Cairo.

Fabrizi and company steal the film equipment from a set (featuring director De Sica), talk their way past Powell’s skeptical agent (a pitch perfect Martin Balsam), and manage to get a seaside town’s total cooperation by offering them roles in the “film.” The overall feel is madcap but there are genuinely hilarious moments throughout. Simon and Zavattini deliver some fantastic barbs in the script like when Powell asks his agent what Neo-Realism is and Balsam responds dryly “No money.” Fabrizi/Vanucci’s crew are mostly silly in their performance, but De Sica also stages them doing some surreal physical gags in the background action—improbably bounding up buildings and hurling film equipment as if it were weightless. 

The climax of After the Fox—which truly is a must-see—takes place during the trial where the entire town appears to have been brought in as accomplices. The actual “film” they’ve been making is shown as part of the testimony and it’s a clear send-up of French and Italian art cinema. While most of the audience can’t believe what they’ve seen, a film critic must be forcibly removed from the courtroom while he heralds the mess as a masterpiece.

After the Fox is neither absolute mess or masterpiece, but it contains sincere wit and the superb cast is charming. It may not live up to its promise on paper but it’s very worthwhile for fans of caper comedies, 60s pictures, or movies about movies.

After the Fox is available on DVD and Blu-Ray from Kino Lorber. It’s a pretty basic disc, but it looks and sounds good. The limited extras include the original theatrical trailer and the Trailers from Hell version featuring screenwriter Larry Karaszewski. I’d highly recommend watching the TFH video online as Karaszewski’s enthusiasm for the film nudged me towards obtaining a copy.

Thief (1981)

Five Stars

Two things are immediately striking upon first viewing Michael Mann’s Thief (1981)—the immaculately constructed world and the singular style in which it is presented. Everything physical in Thief feels real, seems plausible. The tools that Frank (James Caan) and his crew use, the methods they employ, and the locations they maneuver through have a tremendous authenticity to them. 

One of the keys to that authenticity is that Mann employed “technical consultants” on Thief (something he would continue to do throughout his career) that consisted of actual thieves and police. Not only did these consultants inform the methodology of the fictional robbers, but in some cases lent them the actual tools of the trade. The magnetic drill Frank hefts to penetrate a safe door in the opening sequence was a real 200 lb drill and he really drilled through that safe door.

In contrast to this realism, the stylistic elements of Thief are fantastic and alien. The city is all blacks and greens, eternally raining. Streetlights and neon line the skies and are reflected in surfaces of cars and wet asphalt. The pulsing electronic score by Tangerine Dream echoes the industrial heartbeat of the Chicago underworld (parts of the score are actually keyed to match the machine whir of the tools used for the heists). With the level of craft on display, it’s remarkable that this was a first feature both for Mann and his cinematographer Dave Thorin.

However, there’s more than mere style on display here. Thief is very much a character driven narrative and has the performances necessary to draw the viewer in. Caan’s Frank is successful. He maintains his independence, steals only cash or unset jewels, and puts his money into small businesses he can control: a car lot and a bar. He’s unattached and answers to no one. Jessie—beautifully portrayed by Tuesday Weld—is a woman with a dark past. While she seems far too glamorous to be a diner cashier, her humdrum life is one she built herself and something she can rely upon.

In one of Thief’s best scenes, the two lay their cards out on the table and decide to start a life together. This kind of confessional conversation and abrupt decision making would normally strain credulity but Caan and Weld are totally convincing as two people looking for something better and running out of time to find it.  As Frank says, “let’s cut the mini-moves and the bullshit, and get on with this big romance.” 

To jump-start this new life chapter, Frank compromises his independence to work for local crime boss, Lou. Robert Prosky brings the faustian Lou vividly to life. He’s both affably paternal and later chillingly brutal, like some kind of folksy satan. Lou offers Frank and Jessie everything they’re dreaming of—money, a home, even a child—if only Frank does things Lou’s way. Of course, Frank’s not the kind of guy who can do things anyone else’s way for long. No longer unattached, Frank has to decide to submit to Lou’s yoke or risk losing everything.

Thief is a tremendously assured debut feature that’s clearly the product of meticulous preparation. Mann set the story in his hometown of Chicago and built on his experience with convicts from his television movie—The Jericho Mile. Thief contains many of the hallmarks that would define Mann’s style as a film-maker throughout his career: his focus on professional details, his use of real people and locations, and his attention to the music in his films. 

Mann also has a terrific eye for supporting cast and Thief features Willie Nelson as Frank’s prison buddy, as well as solid film debuts for Jim Belushi and Dennis Farina. As sparse as the actual plot beats may be, Thief only grows in my estimation each time I revisit it. Some may find it too stylized, maybe even pretentious, but I find myself completely won over by this expertly crafted slice of genre film-making. 

Thief is available on DVD and Blu-Ray via the Criterion Collection. The 4K transfer looks amazing and I really enjoyed the commentary and interviews. At the time of this writing, Thief is also available via a variety of streaming services with no rental fee. So not only is it highly recommended, but it’s easy to find and watch without much of a financial commitment.

Topkapi (1964)

Four Stars

Jules Dassin was blacklisted in 1950 and responded by moving to Europe and making one of the greatest and most influential heist movies of all time Rififi (1955). Following the success of Rififi, Dassin continued making well regarded films in Europe, landing another hit with the Melina Mercouri comedy, Never on Sunday in 1960. Topkapi (1964) somehow manages to combine the high tension, technical heist genre of the former with the Mediterranean comedic air of the latter. 

Mercouri stars as Elizabeth Lipp, a seductive (and occasionally frightening) jewel thief who recruits mastermind Walter Harper (Maximilian Schell) and electronics expert Cedric Page (Robert Morley) to help her steal a jewel encrusted dagger from the Topkapi museum in Istanbul. Topkapi was Dassin’s first film in color and that color explodes onto the screen from the start with a psychedelic, kaleidoscopic opening that has Lipp addressing the audience directly letting us know that she’s a thief and that she has a plan. This early rule breaking serves as the proper introduction to a film that is propelled by an anarchic energy throughout.

The crew is rounded out by a strongman and acrobat team, Jess Hahn and Gilles Ségal, and most importantly by low-rent conman and “schmo” Arthur Simon Simpson played brilliantly by Peter Ustinov. Simpson is hired by Lipp and Harper to drive a Cadillac (unbeknownst to him) loaded with contraband arms across the Turkish border and meet them in Istanbul. Of course, being a schmo, Simpson runs into trouble at the border which leads to him improbably, and hilariously, being recruited as a spy for the Turkish Security Forces. 

Once assembled in Istanbul, Lipp and Co. make their preparations for the big heist while Simpson attempts to determine what their plans are and communicate them back to the authorities. All of this is set against some fantastic footage of Turkish locales and accompanied by another excellent Greek inspired score from Manos Hadjidakis (Hatzidakis).

As can be expected from Dassin, the technical details of the burglary are interesting and mostly kept separate from the hijinks of Ustinov’s subplot. The criminal enterprise unfolding definitely has an air of lightness to it, but it’s nice that it isn’t played strictly for laughs as that allows for the actual robbery to become incredibly tense. By the same token, Simpson’s buffoonery is allowed space and helps to buoy the somewhat convoluted plot. Circumstances conspire to make Simpson an active member of the outlaws as well as forcing changes be made to the master plan.

The heist itself is performed largely without sound in the same vein of Rififi and the stunt-wire performance of Ségal has gone on to inspire countless other sequences on both the large and small screen. Seeing the original version of this heavily referenced scene is still a riveting affair and goes to show the film-making mastery of Dassin (and editor Roger Dwyre).

Topkapi is sometimes referred to as a spoof of Dassin’s other films, but I think that misses an important point. It is certainly a fun, frothy bit of lighter entertainment, but there’s some serious craft at work here. Simpson’s scene of interrogation with Turkish Security is funny but the harsh shadows and close up faces are right out of film noir. Ustinov is comical during the heist, but also relatable and having him as an unreliable cog in the machinery of the robbery only adds to the sweat inducing tension of the sequence.

Ustinov is the star of the film (the source novel is told from Simpson’s perspective entirely) but instead won the Academy Award for supporting actor for his performance. The rest of the cast is definitely charming and there are truly excellent moments throughout even if the story never quite comes together. It’s a must watch for heist fans and probably of tremendous appeal for travel enthusiasts or 60s European film aficionados.

Topkapi is available on a bare bones DVD or Blu Ray via Kino Lorber. Parts of it look tremendous while other elements are fairly shabby. Certainly a deluxe-ified release with some special features would be appreciated, but even some subtitle options would be a nice addition. Luckily, it can be found rather cheaply and is certainly worth acquiring.