Roubo Audacioso

Frank Harper (Rory Calhoun) is tapped out due to bad bets at the track, so he comes to big operator Flood (James Gregory) with the idea of stealing the payroll for Camp Pendleton when it sits in the bank at San Felipe overnight. Flood reluctantly agrees to stake and organize the caper, mainly because of the size of the payroll - one million dollars.

But then Flood makes this whole thing much harder than it needs to be. He insists that his mistress Kay (Mary Costa) and Frank pose as man and wife in San Felipe for three months to get the lay of the land with Frank using Flood's front money to buy a gas station and run it. I never actually SEE them doing ANY reconnaissance. Kay seems to spend the day washing dishes and being a childless June Cleaver and Frank is busy all day fixing cars. All this does is set up a situation where the two gradually fall in love and begin to think that maybe going straight would be a good idea. But Flood is not a guy to be trifled with complications ensue. On top of that, Flood has hired more than a few psychos as accomplices. Given that you could see the trouble these guys causing from a mile away had me doubting Flood's "Mr. Big" Bonafide's.

Why couldn't Frank have bought the gas station as a single guy and done the recon by himself? I know it was the 50s, but I doubt every able-bodied single guy over 20 was immediately suspect by the middle class. And the married middle class of San Felipe are so creepy. They are like the Stepford Wives AND Husbands AND kids for that matter. Why this environment and these people would make you want to go straight and join their ranks I have no idea.

Economically shot by the producer team of William H. Pine and William C. Thomas, known as "the dollar bills" because none of their films ever lost money, the film works until the end when it ends abruptly with several bad guys still on the loose and possibly being a problem for the protagonists, who thus have an uncertain future. Not exactly its much bigger brother, the heist film The Asphalt Jungle, its spartanly shot late noir vibe made it worth sitting through in spite of the plot holes and lapses in logic.

A heist gang is assembled from character types to knock over a million-dollar bank. But first, the gang must establish credentials in town by pretending that two of their number are a married couple that buy a gas station. But will the diverse types be able to carry out the scheme, especially in the midst of an all-American community.

Well-made thick ear. Despite the title, the heist part is pretty ordinary. The movie's real appeal is in colorful characters and human interest. Robert H. Harris has to be the biggest bundle of pathetic sweat in movie annals. When he isn't setting off diversionary explosions, he's in near orgasmic delight over the fires he sets. It's a thankless role, he brings off to the proverbial T. Then there's Corey Allen's demented hipster Roy, and a long way from his commanding role in Rebel Without a Cause (1955). With his blond crew-cut, I almost didn't recognize him. But in my view, the movie really belongs to James Gregory's mastermind, Flood. He brings real authority to the role, making much of the movie more credible than it is. No wonder he had a long run on TV.

The various little conflicts make up most of the story, and except for some cheap sets, they're compelling enough to hold interest. However, suspense doesn't really kick in until the final 20-minutes, while some threads are left hanging; that is, unless I missed something. Anyway, Calhoun and Costa make an attractive couple, with a good look at that 50's suburban ritual, the backyard bar-be-cue. And despite a couple of plot stretches, the production remains on the whole an entertaining little package.

"The Big Caper" is a neglected noir thriller that deserves a lot more recognition...this is one of Rory Calhoun's best and most atypical roles. The pace is brisk and the acting quite good even in the minor roles. A very effective sense of threat and menace are maintained throughout, building tension, grabbing and holding the viewer's interest. Calhoun's and Costa's criminal characters' pretense of the "straight life" as a struggling young married couple in a small town is very striking as the set up to their elaborately plotted bank robbery. Gregory is appropriately frightening as the murderous kingpin. Calhoun was at his height at this time and shows that he had enough skill and screen presence to justify awarding him bigger and better roles outside of the westerns to which he was mostly relegated. This film has undeservedly been eclipsed by many others, less engaging, of the 50's.

I was interested in this film not only because it is a noir, but because it costars opera star Mary Costa.

Conman Frank (Rory Calhoun) approaches a wealthy colleague (James Gregory) with an idea he has to rob a bank. It's in a town that houses the military base payments on certain days. Frank thinks this would be a cinch, but he needs backing.

Flood has an interesting idea. He sets Frank up with a gas station and arranges for Frank and his girlfriend Kay (Costa) to live in the town and establish themselves as good citizens who fit in.

It turns out that not only do Frank and Kay get along better than expected, but the gas station is turning a profit. They also are making friends. Kay confesses she envies her sister's life as a wife and mother and realizes she's been losing out. She wants to break with Flood, but Frank warns her to wait until after the robbery.

The next problem is the unsavory and unreliable people who are supposed to help on the job. One is the alcoholic pyromaniac (Robert Harris), posing as Frank's uncle, who is supposed to distract the police and firefighters by setting some fires. He can barely get around and is constantly asking for booze.

Corey Allen plays Roy, a dumb as a box of rocks muscle man who gets beaten by Flood for showing his muscles off to Kay. Paul Picerni as Harry arrives to the job with a bimbo girlfriend (Roxanne Arlen) in tow, who tries to hold up Flood for a cut of the take.

How anyone expected this group to pull off anything, and how Flood could just send Kay off to live with Rory Calhoun - well, it all seems pretty preposterous. Still, it does hold some interest, and the end is exciting.

Mary Costa was the singing Aurora in Sleeping Beauty for Disney, and had a wonderful career as an opera star. Costa and Anna Moffo set a new high bar for beautiful women in opera. After Costa retired, she worked with children in ChildHelp, and as of this writing, is still alive at 91.

Adapted, like Stanley Kubrick's more celebrated 1956 crime movie THE KILLING, from a novel by underrated thriller writer Lionel White, THE BIG CAPER is an economical, pacy minor 50s crime movie which, unfortunately, somewhat loses its grip and falls away on the home strait to deliver less than it initially promises. Trapped in an ever-increasing spiral of gambling losses, Frank (Rory Calhoun, taking a welcome break from the saddle) sells his now semi-respectable gangster boss Flood (James Gregory) the idea of bankrolling a 'big caper'. The sleepy Californian coastal town of San Felipe is home to a bank which holds the substantial payroll for a nearby army base, and appears just ripe for the pickings for a team of professional hoods. Flood stakes the plan, and, after buying up the local gas station (an ideal stakeout locale for the bank located across the street), Frank sets up home with Flood's moll Kay (Mary Costa), aiming to win the trust of the local populace based on a seemingly legitimate veneer of domestic normality. Biding their time, Frank and Kay ingratiate themselves with the local 'square' population as they await the arrival of Flood's specialist team. But when this outfit includes an alcoholic pyromaniac, an inveterate womaniser, a psychotically loyal bodyguard and a kingpin who is beginning, rightfully, to suspect that his girl wants out from her previous lifestyle, the seemingly perfect caper begins to look fatally flawed. Swift and punchy, and betraying the best of its paperback origins in swift, sharp characterisation and abrupt narrative gear changes, this benefits from a nicely embittered change-of-pace lead performance from Calhoun (who, in forsaking his cowboy boots and spurs here, suggests he would have made an effectively downbeat noir actor) and a surprising sense of well-oiled coiled-spring menace from the underrated Gregory. Although a tad schematic in its paralleling of the Eisenhower-era nuclear family with Flood's dysfunctional criminal one, and running out of steam on the way to a regrettably contrived ending which involves a Damascene conversion which doesn't quite convince (a more cynical remake would probably put that right, though), this is a diverting slice of 50s criminality which seems, like much of the quirky crime roster from this period, to have slipped off the generic radar in recent years. Worth a look, even if it can't hold a candle to Kubrick's more celebrated Lionel White adaptation from the same period.