La grande attaque du train d'or

The very least you can say about Michael Crichton (1942-2008) is that he was an extremely intelligent, versatile and busy worker! He studied journalism, anthropology and medicine, to eventually become Sci-Fi/thriller novelist, screenwriter and director. His studies and interests certainly explain the themes and range for most of his novels and screenplays, but there are still several odd and rather unlikely achievements in his repertoire. "The Great Train Robbery" is probably the oddest of the bunch. After grim and scholarly Sci-Fi stories like "The Andromeda Strain", "Westworld", "The Terminal Man" and "Coma", I don't think anybody expected Crichton to come up with a light-headed Victorian period piece about the infamous 1855 train heist.

Sean Connery's character has decided for himself that he will pull off what no other thief has even properly attempted to do, namely steal a large amount of government gold from a massively secured safe on a moving train. He receives help from the lewd Lesley-Ann Down, who merely just uses her feminine charms and bodily trumps, and the self-acclaimed fastest key runner in the country; Donald Sutherland. Together they must figure out how to unnoticedly get hold of four separately secured keys to the safe, and then still find a solution to break into the guarded bank wagon and get out the loot. "The Great Train Robbery" reminded me very much of "Ocean's 11". I haven't seen the 1960 original, starring Frank Sinatra, but it isn't unthinkable that Steven Soderbergh also took some ideas from this film whilst he was preparing the 2001 remake. Connery's witty charms and small talks to infiltrate into high-society families, the grotesquely detailed schemes to plagiarize the keys, the acrobatic con-artist, the meticulously timed simulations, ... These are all scenes that could come straight out of "Ocean's 11".

"The Great Train Robbery" is a well-made, nicely acted and overall reasonably entertaining period film. It does have several defaults, though, notably that Crichton cannot seem to decide whether he wants his film to be a comical crime caper or a suspenseful heist movie. Certain parts are particularly bleak (like the dog-fighting, the execution, etc...) but mostly it's tongue-in-cheek, so the film kind falls in between genres. The Robin Hood styled ending also feels very forced. The Victorian costumes and decors look great, Jerry Goldsmith's score is exhilarating and both Sean Connery and Donald Sutherland put down pleasant performances, all of which still makes "The Great Train Robbery" recommended viewing!

The First Great Train Robbery is a first rate, seldom seen, crime thriller with Sean Connery, Lesley Ann Downes (who impresses in corsets) and Donald Sutherland who execute an audacious train heist...in England 1855 (with a little help from Wayne Sleep). Written with forensic prescison by Micheal Crichton, it staggers me that Sean Connery could have been considered box office poison with a project of this calibre.

Makes Buster look turgid - heartily recommended.

This one is fun to watch as the thieves work an intricate plan to rob a train.

The performances are terrific, but the director and the late great Geoffrey Unsworth's delightful photography bring the Victorian Era back to life. The detail is wonderful in all the sets and surroundings.

The plot is very simple, the film is focused and I found myself rooting for the thieves!

I was very surprised when I saw that "The First Great Train Robbery" was written and directed by Michael Crichton. This is because Crichton is normally associated with sci-fi and fantasy, such as "The Andromeda Strain", "Coma", "Westworld" and "Jurassic Park". But apparently in 1975, Crichton wrote a book about this actual robbery in 1855...though the film ended up being highly fictionalized, particularly the ending.

The first two-thirds of the film is very slow and meticulous. I didn't mind this too much, though I am sure this will lose a lot of viewers. My suggestion is bear with it. First, it is well crafted. Second, the look of VIctorian London is wonderful....so take time to enjoy what you are seeing. The final portion is much more exciting and concerns the robbery itself. It's amazing to see Sean Connery doing his own stunts* and the footage is incredible...and it must have been incredible to see on the big screen.

Overall, a slow and deliberate movie that is great provided you don't mind the pace or that too much of the story is fictionalized in order to make the story more cinematic. The ending, in particular, is pure fiction and the real case, though interesting, is much different.

I do have two further comments. First, the sound on this DVD was abominable...with music that is so much louder than the dialog. You really do need the closed captions in order to watch the film....it's that bad. Second, one mistake I noticed is that the 'gold' in the film was ridiculously lightweight...and seeing Connery and Sutherland EASILY tossing the bags of gold off the train (as if they were filled with newspapers or scones) was silly.

*I know that they touted how Sean Connery did the insane stunt of climbing across the moving train and he clearly did. But in a few scenes, despite the hype, I do strongly suspect that a stuntman was occasionally used...such as when Connery's character is hanging off the sides of the moving train.

Writing and directing The Great Train Robbery, Michael Crichton took much license with the facts of the story's basis, mostly to incorporate a tone of sardonic humor and mean-spirited mustachioed grinning. Sir Sean Connery has always been a great light comedian, having played Bond as a discreetly comic character. That's probably why Lazenby and Moore never totally matched him: They played 007 too orthodox. In Connery's charismatic oeuvre, master safecracker Edward Pierce is no exception.

The inimitable Donald Sutherland, playing a Victorian pickpocket and con man, is somewhat miscast as Connery's partner. He is not convincingly English, to my surprise frankly, though he does bring a new characteristic or two to virtually each film he's in, and here he's not just Connery's cohort but his foil. Leslie Ann Down plays Connery's moll and co-conspirator, and she appears to have been preordained to wear Victorian undergarments.

The plot for the heist is rather upfront: The train's safe, containing the gold, is protected with four keys, each in different hands. The challenge is to divide these holders from their keys, if possible in scenarios that serious, by-the-book Victorian gentlemen would be opposed to explaining to the police, so one aged banker is shadowed at a dogfight and another is intercepted in a brothel. There's also a Stopwatch Sequence for caper enthusiasts like me: Connery and Sutherland undergo numerous trials before endeavoring to burglarize the railway company office, and we get a gracefully stage-managed robbery effort with all the timeless taps like the guard reappearing a nanosecond after the critical moment and such.

One of the foremost amusements of this drum-tight caper is the way it's determinedly in the Victorian era. The costumes and the art direction are sincere, Crichton infuses his dialogue with undoubtedly genuine Victorian gangland wording, and, for the climactic train heist, they even constructed a whole operational train. Other gratifications: The nefarious deception used to smuggle Connery into the protected car with the gold; the chase sequence atop the train; and, certainly, the loin-scorchingly superb presence of Down, who is wryly funny in her own right.

An ornately thorough and exciting caper that parades historical accuracy in support of the tempting charisma of gentleman scoundrels up to no good. Connery and Sutherland are unscrupulous to their foundations but full of audacity and shrewdness. We're supportive of them all the way, with their dashing top hats, rustling coat-tails and panorama of facial hair.

There's a patent two-act structure to the proficient script. Crichton has a scientist's sensitivity to exactitude. First the crack team toil through the preparation phases, as they progressively appropriate indentations of the four keys necessary to unlock the safe, resulting in the heist itself on a train tearing through the British scenery. In the course of this era of steam power, it appeared a hopeless scheme. Meek, perhaps, by the wicked tempo of modern action sequences, Crichton nevertheless infuses a rousing realism with Connery mannishly performing his own stunts as he traverses the rooftop through clouds of grimy smoke, for the golden fleece.

All around, Crichton absorbs the tissue and texture of whimsical Victoriana from the bitter brick walls of the prison for Wayne Sleep's lithe prison escape to the plush, glossy furnishings of the brothel where the sexy Down slips a key from Alan Webb's frenziedly horny bank manager. But naturalism is not the approach, Crichton is after a giddy attribute like it's being told as a tall story in a pub sopping in overstatement and heightened deceit to whitewash impractical snags.