La grande attaque du train d'or

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.

The year is 1855. The place is England. A man going by the name of Edward Pierce (Sean Connery) has his eyes on a near impossible heist. He wants to steal the Crimean gold that goes by railway from one part of England to another. Besides the fact it's guarded at the time of transit, the safe requires four separate keys that are in three separate locations. Oh yeah, and no one has ever robbed a moving locomotive before. I suppose he could Butch-Cassidy-and-the-Sundance-Kid it and force the train to stop, then blow open the safe. But this is England and no such brutish tactics will be used. This will take stealth, guile, and intelligence. In other words, it was a sophisticated operation.

This was a superb heist movie. It was clever, it was cohesive, and it was funny. I liked the pairing of Connery and Donald Sutherland. Heist movies always have to be clever and cutting edge because the mark is always super-secure and nearly impossible to breach. What sets one heist movie apart from the other is the story within and the characters. This story was straight forward and simple. There were no red herrings, no sappy side stories, and no deux ex-machinas. And the characters were very enjoyable.

This Michael Crichton film was simply excellent.

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!

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!

The First Great Train Robbery is directed by Michael Crichton who also writes the screenplay. It stars Sean Connery, Donald Sutherland, Lesley-Anne Down, Wayne Sleep, Robert Lang, Alan Webb and Andre Morell. Music is scored by Jerry Goldsmith and cinematography by Geoffrey Unsworth. The story is loosely based on the real Great Gold Robbery of 1855, where a rogue criminal named William Pierce and his cohorts executed the theft of £12,000 in gold from a speeding train on route to aid the British Army during the Crimean War.

A delightful period caper picture that's high on production value and fun characterisations. Split into two halves, Crichton's movie makes light of the actual crime to portray Connery and co as lovable rogues, thus hooking the viewer in to actually root for them to pull off the intricate crime. First half (well it's more two thirds of the film to be exact) details how the robbers obtained the four keys needed to get into the safe. Harder than it sounds since they are in different locations to one and other and guarded over by different officials. Naturally there are scrapes, skirmishes and obstacles to overcome during this complex operation, and no short amount of humour and tension either. Then it's on to the actual crime, which buzzes ferociously with derring do and ingenious cheek! It may have been loaded with chitter chatter and much bluffing of the way leading up to it, but the pay off is excellent and not without genuine excitement as Connery's (doing his own stunt work) Pierce and Sutherland's safe cracking Agar pull off the seemingly impossible.

Benefiting the film greatly is Crichton's attention to detail, where he thrives on the Victorian England setting. From the streets, the costumes, the dialogue and mannerisms of the characters, they all fit nicely within the narrative. Helps, too, that the cast are playing it with tongue in cheek, Connery and Sutherland are revelling in playing roguish dandies, splendidly attired facially with quality face fuzz and Down raises the temperature of Connery and male audience members alike. Probably her best ever performance, Crichton writes a good role for Down that sees her not only as a sexy head turner (it's unlikely that Victorian underwear has ever looked this sexy before in film), but also as an observant member of the gang; one who isn't too shabby on the disguise front either. Dancer Wayne Sleep is nicely cast as a fleet footed housebreaker, while Lang, Webb, Morell and Michael Elphick pitch their respective performances just right. Goldsmith's score is energetic and Unsworth's (his last film as he sadly passed away shortly after shooting it) photography is a lesson in quality without trickery.

Fanciful and tame if compared to the big budgeted actioners of today, The First Great Train Robbery none the less is testament that simplicity of plot and a keenness to entertain is sometimes all you need. 8/10