The Italian Job (1969)

Review #2221: The Italian Job (1969)

Cast: 
Michael Caine (Charlie Croker), Noël Coward (Mr. Bridger), Benny Hill (Professor Simon Peach), Raf Vallone (Altabani), Tony Beckley (Camp Freddie), Rossano Brazzi (Roger Beckerman), Maggie Blye (Lorna), Irene Handl (Miss Peach), John Le Mesurier (the Prison Governor), Fred Emney (Birkinshaw), and John Clive (Garage manager) Directed by Peter Collinson (#608 - Tomorrow Never Comes)

Review: 

There are plenty of summer movies that could be chosen to roll with the long hot days or just as warm nights, but it probably stands to reason that The Italian Job is a good choice to kick things off on its good side. The original idea was thought of by Ian Kennedy Martin (a writer generally known for his British television work) as a TV drama idea involving a robbery in a traffic jam in London. It didn't go anywhere, but his brother Troy (also noted for his TV work, such as Z-Cars) bought the idea and wanted to make a movie set in Italy, completely with Michael Caine envisioned as the lead. And so, he made his spec script that eventually got the attention of Paramount Pictures and to the attention of producer Michael Deeley. He made a suggestion for a bit lighter film in terms of a caper (in his memoirs, he described the first draft as a bit complicated in political emphasis). Paramount chose Peter Collinson to direct the film, which would come out after The Long Day's Dying (released in 1968 that had Deeley as producer, as he wanted to see how Collinson would handle a film production); he would be a steady director in the following decade before his untimely death in 1980 at the age of 44. It was Deeley who came up with the iconic ending of the film, which he conceived as a solution to the fact that the endings that Martin tried to come up to conclude the film because in his words, the endings thought of all seemed to fall under "Irving the Explainer", where dialogue ends up being the thing for the filmmaker to depend on to get out of a problem (as opposed to visual explanation); he also thought of the idea because, well, he had ideas of possibly doing a sequel. Shot mostly in Turin, Italy with a hodgepodge of cars and stunts, the film was a success in its native England (but not so much in America) that has achieved a fame not always seen by caper films, even inspiring a charity fundraising event that sees plenty of Minis driving around the United Kingdom and Italy. A remake (of sorts) was released in 2003.

It really is just one of those films that invites delight and wonder even if you've seen a good deal of these caper and chase films. It is a pretty efficient 99-minute film that delights itself as firmly British and yet firmly amusing to those who encounter it. It indulges the pleasures of building up a caper that lives well on the great charm that arises in bringing together Caine at the pinnacle of his 1960s sharpness alongside a few neat cars and locations. Caine always seemed to know just the right moment for timing and charm, whether that involves plans or in casual dialogue that goes to show one can make anything sound cool, I suppose. This was the last film appearance of Coward (famed playwright and president of the orphanage that Collinson had spent most of his childhood in), who had been suffering from arteriosclerosis prior to his subsequent death in 1973. It may not be a plentiful part (they had him for just a few days), but he has the dignity to keep the role from waffling into nothingness. He just has the look and aura to sound on point when it comes to using the time wisely for esteemed lords of the manor (whether jail or otherwise). There are a few names known for those familiar with television of the time (as stated by its producer), and it only makes sense that Hill was there in his ragged weirdness. Car commercial or not, it does make the Mini look like its own character when it comes to handling the action (amusingly, there was a shot scene that had a part of the car chase occur while an orchestra played "The Blue Danube" but it was deleted). The music score by Quincy Jones (such as say, "The Self Preservation Society song, as sung by the cast or the intro song as sung by Matt Monro) only adds to the comfortable nature of the film when it comes to general mood. It builds its setup and execution with worthwhile timing that has a nice balance of humor (that one line about doors is the easy one to go with), but undeniably it is the climax that makes me appreciate how it all goes together: it really is just better to have the film dangle right on the Alps. As a whole, it is pretty neat in engaging a clear caper with winning charm and commitment to make for a pretty good time. 

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

A Clockwork Orange.

Review #1440: A Clockwork Orange.

Cast: 
Malcolm McDowell (Alex DeLarge), Patrick Magee (Mr Frank Alexander), Michael Bates (Chief Guard Barnes), Warren Clarke (Dim), John Clive (Stage Actor), Adrienne Corri (Mrs Mary Alexander), Carl Duering (Dr Brodsky), Paul Farrell (Tramp), Clive Francis (Joe the Lodger), Michael Gover (Prison Governor), Miriam Karlin (Catlady), James Marcus (Georgie), Aubrey Morris (P. R. Deltoid), Godfrey Quigley (Prison Chaplain), Sheila Raynor (Mum), Madge Ryan (Dr Branom), Anthony Sharp (Frederick, Minister of the Interior), and Philip Stone (Dad) Produced and Directed by Stanley Kubrick (#044 - Full Metal Jacket, #065 - The Shining, #093 - 2001: A Space Odyssey, #1046 - Barry Lyndon, and #1301 - Dr. Strangelove)

Review: 
"I have always enjoyed dealing with a slightly surrealistic situation and presenting it in a realistic manner. I've always liked fairy tales and myths, magical stories. I think they are somehow closer to the sense of reality one feels today than the equally stylized "realistic" story in which a great deal of selectivity and omission has to occur in order to preserve its "realist" style."

Stanley Kubrick made thirteen feature films in his career, and it is interesting to note the numerous distinct genres that they all fall into, whether that meant anti-war (such as Paths of Glory), or film noir (The Killing), or period drama (Spartacus) or comedy-drama (Lolita), all the while having a touch and patience of a chess player in creating such tremendous interesting films to view. Kubrick had an interest in photography and film from a young age, and he was hired by Look magazine after he graduated high school. He would later develop interest in making his own films, which he started with Day of the Fight (1951), a short documentary that survives among two others Kubrick did before making his feature debut with Fear and Desire (1953). Over the next 46 years, Kubrick would develop numerous films that received attention and tremendous praise, and it should prove no surprise that this film is a masterpiece - one with discipline with madness and a great lead performance from Malcolm McDowell. Kubrick was inspired to cast McDowell in the film after seeing him in Lindsay Anderson's influential if... (1968), and he stated that if he could not have hired McDowell that he wouldn't have done the film at all.

If one needs to think of the context for comparing a film that is nearly a half century old to the films that purvey our screens, just remember that this was actually released by a major studio - Warner Brothers of all ones. Of all the provocative films that rocked a decade of grime and paranoia, A Clockwork Orange certainly stands out as one for its age. It was adapted from the novel of the same name by composer/writer/linguist/critic Anthony Burgess, who had written it in 1962 with a good deal of it written with a unique jargon named "Nadsat", which was Russian-influenced English to depict a subculture of young people in a dystopian society focused on extreme violence and the exploits of Alex from ultraviolence to reformation. There exists two versions of the novel: The original British novel with 21 chapters that ended with Alex deciding on his own free will to give up a life of senseless crime and violence. When brought to American publishers, they felt that the last chapter needed to be taken out as audiences would not go for this decision, so it was omitted (which proved the case for the next two decades of publication for American audiences). Burgess described that version and the film as like a fable while describing his original book as a novel with a "quality of genuine fiction". Kubrick described it as an extra chapter that he hadn't read until after he had written the screenplay, stating that it was "unconvincing and inconsistent with the style and intent of the book." Burgess had mixed feelings for the resulting adaptation (which was actually the second one done, after Andy Warhol's Vinyl six years earlier), particularly with the way it dealt with glorifying violence, stating it as making it easy for book readers to misunderstand what it was all about.

One wonders how a film like this ever got made, one with such creeping power that other films can only dare to try and defy in the following years. Others may have more blood or more frightening imagery, but there is just something about this one particular film that grips your attention as if it was some sort of disturbing hypnosis that can make you wince or laugh at its black comedy roots. It isn't all ultraviolence nor all funny but a film with a madman point of view that is handled with discipline and tremendous style. One is pulled in immediately with McDowell to observe and hear in each and every scene that shows his bold depravity that we cannot but keep thinking about now more than ever. Whether through singing "Singin' in the Rain" through a rape scene or trying to repress his violent urges, McDowell excels in conviction as someone we can't help but observe in showing what it means to have their free will challenged. Magee and Bates both do well on the sides of dogmatic reactionaries to our main focus, with the former proving a cynical foil while the latter provides blustery bluster that keeps our attention. Others have brief moments that they utilize quite well for us to observe when interacting with McDowell, whether that involves ultraviolence or not.

There is a reasonable pace of 136 minutes, carefully weaving its way through dark moments (if one can get through the opening 25 minutes, you can get through anything) with irony. We are talking about a movie that has someone killed by a phallus statue that cuts to a painting at the key moment, after all. Granted, one could have discomfort over its violent nature, because what seems like just a movie for John Q. Public isn't exactly going to provoke intelligent thought from someone who only sees the violence and nothing else (which can also prove the case with a number of satires). It's up to the viewer to assess how much it works on the satiric level about free will or violence. The argument over whether violence in film and television can have an effect on the viewer to do said violence is still something we talk about five decades later (as if violence begets more violence), particularly for a film that was pulled from release in Britain (which linked the film as an impetus for a spring of copycat crimes) just two years after release upon request of Kubrick. The US release was originally rated X, but a few subsequent small cuts by Kubrick led to an R rating, although it should be noted that current releases contain the original version (ironically enough with an R-rating). Regardless of how one thinks of the violence, it cannot be denied that this is an intensely great film, one free to do madness at its own choice that excels because of Kubrick and McDowell, a magnificently uncomfortable experience with strokes of genius in satire and dystopia that will linger with its audience long after they find themselves observing it.

Overall, I give it 10 out of 10 stars.