The Italian Job (1969)

Out of Sight (1998) dripped cool; The Asphalt Jungle (1950) was all brooding darkness; A Fish Called Wanda (1988) was a doltish British comedy about buffoonish criminals. I was not prepared, however, for the delightful inanity of The Italian Job (1969). Perhaps the most British of British films.

I. What is It?

Charlie Croker is going to steal $4 million dollars from under the Mafia in Turin. The heist itself is comically over-complicated. But the plot isn't.

II. Sheer What the Fuckery

This movie is something special. There is a man in a hot pink suit. Michael Caine has an orgy with at least ten women, right before meeting the widow of a former friend and sleeping with her, too. A trio of Mini Coopers decked out in Union Jack red, white and blue outwit the Italian government. A patriotic British gangster (played to the nines by Noel Coward) runs a vast criminal underworld from his posh prison cell. Oh, and the Mafia (pronounced Britishly: MAH-Fi-Uh). The Mafia is a gang of sharp-suited clones who like to smash cars and then roll them down the Italian mountainside.

And then there's the heist. It must be seen to be believed. It's the kind of batshit insane that requires one turn their brain off for, and I'm here for it. Mini Coopers shoot down stairwells, through storm tunnels, and across rooftops, all to a swingin', upbeat Quincy Jones'-composed underscore. It's all done practically, too, which is something that we often forget is possible.

This movie is dumb as hell. And it's a shit load of fun.

I challenge you to get "The Self Preservation Society" out of your head immediately after viewing. It can't be done. I'm still humming it to myself.

III. Veddy Veddy British

Is there a more British movie than this? I'm not entirely sure that there is.

IV. Crime is Fun!

I'm not sure if this is a critique or a celebration of criminality. On the one hand, Croker and his crew are clearly having a ball and one gets the feeling that the audience is supposed to be having a great time with these lovable rogues. On the other hand, these men are stealing $4 million in gold bars, causing massive damage, and probably killing or grievously injuring a number of people, all the while laughing and smirking and zipping off British-isms. The Italian Job makes Ocean's Eleven look like a serious drama by comparison.

And then there's that ending: the bus balanced precariously on the edge of a cliff, the gold sliding out of reach, and the cut to the end credits. Do they retrieve the gold? Are these affable tricksters doomed to slide off that cliff because of their greed? Who fucking knows, the camera just takes off and plays some more swingin' tunes as the image of the bus grows smaller and smaller and smaller.

VIII. Absolutely Gorgeous

This film is beautiful, and Douglas Slocombe's photography is slick and masterful. There's the eye-popping opening sequence of an Italian sports car cruising along a twisting mountain road. Then there are the loving shots of Noel Coward's Mr. Bridger striding confidently through the railed innards of that British prison. And Slocombe's camera slides and pans and sweeps around from one painterly set up to another, all in glorious Panavision!

IX. Should You See It?

Absolutely, yes. It's a relatively lean 99 minutes of British insanity. If your only experience, like me, was the 2003 remake, you owe it to yourself to give the original a whirl.

Miscellany

- Michael Caine couldn't drive at the time this film was made. He is never shown driving a car, and is nearly always a passenger.
- Fiat donated many of the cars in the film, and thought that the film would act as free advertising.
- Noel Coward was reportedly in bad health during the filming of the movie, and his final walk through the prison had to be filmed in stages, as he could only walk so far at a time. 
- The ending of the film was changed to make it more open ended, to accommodate a sequel that was never made.