L'or se barre

The Italian Job is one of the best-loved British classics ever made. Most people in my home country of Britain have seen the film many times (most of those times spent drinking tea and speaking like the queen, of course), but there's more than enough for audiences from other countries to like about this delightful thriller as well. As you almost certainly already know, The Italian Job stars Michael Caine as the criminal at the centre of the job, dubbed 'The Italian Job' (would you believe). Caine is iconic in this film; his voice and mannerisms are often imitated, and it is this film that is probably most responsible for that. The plot follows Charlie Croker (Caine), a freshly released crook that, with a tip off from a deceased friend, decides to steal £4 million from Italy. However, it's not an easy job and there are many risks involved, so the job must be astutely planned and flawlessly executed for it to work right - and it is there that the film really takes off.

The Italian Job is well remembered for two things, the first of which is the Mini's. This is the film that made Mini's cool, so as you might expect, there is a fair amount of stunt work involving the Mini, a lot of which is truly spectacular - these little cars can be seen driving up stairs, onto and across roofs, through shopping centres, flying over various chasms etc and it's all very exciting. The second thing that it is remembered for is, of course, the line - "you were only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!", which is one of the most quoted of all time. The film's impact on popular culture has been immense, and that line's impact in particular is legendary; people that don't know the film know that line, and I dare say that a lot of them quote it even. It's up there with 'I'll be back' or 'that' line from Dirty Harry. The film also highlights a lot of British culture, most notably the reaction to something going right. English patriotism is a little different to the American version - while in America, the whole country may be united under the stars and stripes, very apple pie-like; England is much more content to chant a little inside of a prison. I know which version I prefer.

I could waffle on all day about this film, but we've both got better things to do, I'm sure so I'll finish by commenting on the ending; which is, simply, sublime and a perfect way to end the film; funny, well executed and absolutely genius. Well played.

A year after I saw the remake, I finally got to see the original for the first time. This movie was released during my freshman year in college, but I certainly don't remember it ever being in any local theaters. From a 35-year hindsight perspective, it has an "Austin Powers" feel to it, primarily because of the sound track and the period-attire worn by the players. The 2003 re-make has a more imaginative yet believable plot, while this original has a sly, tongue-in-cheek undertone of humor to it. Benny Hill as the computer-geek obsessed with "large-boned women" is a real hoot! I think that sub-plot could have been played out further in the form of it creating more complications for master planner Michael Caine. Although I like "Marky" Mark Wahlberg and most of his movies, Michael Caine imbued the Charlie Croker role with more personality. The mini-Coopers are still the centerpiece of both movies, though: good chase scenes! This movie has merits that the re-make does not, and vice versa. It's hard not to compare the two, but try watching both again, as individual movies.

Troy Kennedy Martin, its scriptwriter, has described the central significance of the mini cooper in Peter Collinson's cult heist movie. Perkily speeding through the streets of Turin, it represents the then New Britain: `laddish, self-confident and not taking itself too seriously'. The image of the weaving, dodging, red white and blue cars is the film's abiding one. Outside of their use in the prolonged escape scenes, and several splendid comic moments elsewhere, it remains entertaining, even if surprisingly slight.

Often seen as a quintessential sixties' movie, ‘The Italian Job' is more precisely a definition (or one definition) of Britishness as an optimistic nation at the height of a chic decade. In this atmosphere, pulling a job – or a bird – is practically a national duty. Robbery is considered by Croker and Bridger as a means to `help with the country's balance of payments'. The ultra-patriotic Mr Bridger (a splendidly aristocratic Noel Coward, his cell walls pasted with pictures of royalty) sees the job as much a matter of national pride, a means to demonstrate the efficiency of the British system of work, than a route to amass loot. Characteristically Bridger is more interested in studying balance of payment statistics than examining escape routes for his operatives who appropriately enough travel to their ‘work' on the Free Enterprise 1.

The reference to football is significant and parallels with the sport are deliberate. Most obviously, the robbery is planned for the time of an England-Italy match maximising confusion and even,(as Bridger suggests at one point), possible help from their compatriots. Croker's men at one point assume the identity of a van full of fans, while the impromptu beer celebration in the back of the coach, after ditching the minis, is the team's victory drink. It is clear that the Italians, whether the police or the Mafia, are as much their opponents as the national team playing in the stadium. Back in prison, upon news of the triumph by his ‘team', Bridger descends the stairs, like a penal Alf Ramsey, acknowledging the chants of ‘England!' by celebrating fans.

Caine's cockney player is very much the main character of the film (a role apparently – and amazingly – originally offered to Robert Redford). The actor, who had earlier played the soliliquising womaniser Alfie in the 1966 film of the same name, reprises some elements of that character's optimism and assumptiveness. In the present film he is less of cynical loner, studiously subservient to his criminal employer, though still on the look out for a good thing both professionally and sexually. Like his more famous compatriot, James Bond, he drives an Aston Martin although quickly reduced to a bicycle and then a mini. The Mafia's cliff-side warning dents some of his self assurance, presumably also shaken by the roughing up from Bridger's men (although interestingly the beating is never referred to again, and leaves no physical marks.) Away from his boss he remains very much his own man, although his loyalty is never in doubt: `From now on we work as a team. Which means you all listen to me.' Crocker is always in control, never sentimental, being content to pack his girlfriend off with the minimum of ceremony at the airport. Emotion will slowly filter through Caine's screen persona. His watching of Beckermann's footage early on, to explain the big idea, anticipates Jack Carter's less dispassionate viewing of celluloid in Hodges' gangster film two years later.

Before the long, final chase ensues, the gang's Aston and two Jags are ceremoniously wasted by the Mafia. While making a simple point about the threat and power of the Italian underworld, the removal of ‘competing' vehicles also reaffirms the status of the remaining minis. Ironically if the film has a weakness, it lies in the mini's prominence, which reduces tension during the last part of the film. The stunts remain eye-catching today (the notable roof top jump being filmed on the roof of the Fiat factory), but very often one is aware of watching a demonstration of the vehicle's versatility rather than any dramatic bid for freedom. In one scene filmed, later deleted from the release print, the minis and their Italian pursuers performed gracefully together on an ice rink choreographed to a waltz, slowing the action even further. That such a scene was considered, and filmed, gives an indication of how taken the makers had been with the car, and with the *means* rather than the *process* of urgent escape.

Another less satisfactory element of the plot is the disappearing Mafia. Initially presented as a formidable, organised force (as in their synchronised appearance on the hill side for instance), the Italian hoods are sidelined as events unfold, criminal impotents. Their absence from the finale seems odd. With or without the Cosa Nostra's malign shadow, the existing conclusion of the film has excited much comment. With its famous shot of the coach balanced out over the precipice, the gold sliding towards its back end, and Croker's closing `I've got a great idea..', it is a literal cliff hanger. The original script tailed off with the escape, and another twist in the tail was clearly needed. After some debate a studio executive added the existing close, which could easily have appeared lame, but in the event proves a satisfying conclusion. By leaving the coach – and the viewer – hanging, the film has it both ways: the crooks get away with it and yet they don't; a group of white British lads triumph in their cool minis, only to have their plans derailed by a careless black driver of their coach. If the film has been about the state of ‘Britishness' at the time then the uncertainty of its conclusion anticipates, perhaps, the doubts and strife of the ensuing decades.

It is unfortunate that the 2003 film was released with the same name as the 1969 film because it clouds the (unsophisticated) mind with subjective judgment. For everyone who compares the two films - stop! The original was filmed in a different time period and the viewer must make a conscious effort to put him/herself in that state of mind to understand it. The film is pure entertainment, and it accomplishes that with humor and some clever stunts. As viewers, we need to be objective and aware of the differences that have arisen on so many levels as the years have passed.

For those who complain that the premise of the heist is not realistic, it was never supposed to be. Consider that if it had been intended as a realistic portrayal, the crooks would have killed those in their way and taken the loot without concern for collateral damage. The existing plot kept the mood decidedly "all in good fun."

Michael Caine made as good a performance as ever in this film. It is fun for fans of him to see the many different roles he has undertaken in his prolific career.

At the behest of Mr Bridger, Charlie Croker puts together a crew to pull of a massive job. The job is to rob an armoured car on the streets of Turin and then get away clean. The plan involves explosives a traffic jam, a football match and a load of mini coopers.

I watched this recently on TV – it was shown the night before England played Argentina in World Cup 2002 (1-0, Argentina then dropped put in the first round!). The reason it was shown was simply that it's strength is that it's a good caper movie where the Brits go over there and put one over on the Italians! It may smack of zenophobia but that's what it is!

The criminals even go so far as to use Mini's for the job – in the most famous scene of the film, making them cool for decades! The reason it was shown before the game was just to feed on the fact that national pride was high. Even if you ignore the British element (the song `self preservation society' is now even a football anthem) then it's still quite fun to watch. The build up to the job is breezy and funny with good lines, while the job itself is fanciful but great fun.

The ending must be known to everyone – but it's still good no matter how many times you see it! The cast are all good – with a range of British TV faces in there bringing a distinct British comedy. Caine is great, as are Coward and Hill but the real stars are the Mini's and the daring comedic race across Turin.

Overall this is not a great film – but it is a classic caper movie. It's made even better by the fact that it makes you proud to be British in a weird way! Say it with me my friends – `hang on lads, I've got an idea……..'