King of Thieves (15.)
Directed by James Marsh.
Starring Michael Caine, Jim Broadbent, Charlie Cox, Ray Winstone, Tom Courtenay, Paul Whitehouse and Michael Gambon. 108 mins.
The 2015 Hatton Garden raid, alongside The Great Train Robbery and The Brink's-Mat Job are this nation's defining post war robberies. A film of the £14 million diamond heist by a gang of aging villain over the long Easter weekend has all the ingredients of a very British cock up: East End villains, nostagia, an underdog crime caper, old timers getting it together for one last hurrah. The potential for Calendar Girls meet We Still Kill In The Old Way was enormous. But, as directed by Marsh (Man on Wire, Theory of Everything) and scripted by Joe Penhall (Blue/Orange, The Long Firm, Mindhunters) there is no sentimentality, and just a little carefully filtered nostalgia.
The obvious thing to say about King Of Thieves is that it has a great cast. If filming last summer had coincided with an ISIS terrorist attack this year's Bafta's would've been a two hour long memorial show. The surprise perhaps is how great this great cast is. Winstone is back to being the formidable pre-betting-responsibly screen presence here and Broadbent, cast against type as the worst of a bad lot, is almost a revelation. And then there is Caine, 85 years old and still a leading man. In 2009's Harry Brown, when Caine was a mere 76, there was a remarkable moment when he suddenly switched from being a frail pensioner living in fear on a south London estate to being the dead eyed Get Carter Caine. Here though he is able to access them both, more or less simulataneously. He is strung between fear and defiance.
The film is entertaining and played for laughs but never soft. These are horrible people. We of course know there not going to get away with it, but if we didn't I think most audiences would be willing them to fail. The film's drawback is that the mechanics of the heist aren't that exciting or visual stimulating. The film is stronger in the aftermath, as the group fall out. The investigating police force are kept as an almost voiceless presence, lurking unnoticed around them while they gab and carp themselves into their prison cells. The film's use of nostalgia is to intercut them with shots of 60s London crime dramas and the actors earlier, iconic, incarnation. In a very sly, unforced way it's a timely statement about our national self image, our need to harp back longingly to things that should be left alone and glorify people who lack glory.
Directed by James Marsh.
Starring Michael Caine, Jim Broadbent, Charlie Cox, Ray Winstone, Tom Courtenay, Paul Whitehouse and Michael Gambon. 108 mins.
The 2015 Hatton Garden raid, alongside The Great Train Robbery and The Brink's-Mat Job are this nation's defining post war robberies. A film of the £14 million diamond heist by a gang of aging villain over the long Easter weekend has all the ingredients of a very British cock up: East End villains, nostagia, an underdog crime caper, old timers getting it together for one last hurrah. The potential for Calendar Girls meet We Still Kill In The Old Way was enormous. But, as directed by Marsh (Man on Wire, Theory of Everything) and scripted by Joe Penhall (Blue/Orange, The Long Firm, Mindhunters) there is no sentimentality, and just a little carefully filtered nostalgia.
The obvious thing to say about King Of Thieves is that it has a great cast. If filming last summer had coincided with an ISIS terrorist attack this year's Bafta's would've been a two hour long memorial show. The surprise perhaps is how great this great cast is. Winstone is back to being the formidable pre-betting-responsibly screen presence here and Broadbent, cast against type as the worst of a bad lot, is almost a revelation. And then there is Caine, 85 years old and still a leading man. In 2009's Harry Brown, when Caine was a mere 76, there was a remarkable moment when he suddenly switched from being a frail pensioner living in fear on a south London estate to being the dead eyed Get Carter Caine. Here though he is able to access them both, more or less simulataneously. He is strung between fear and defiance.
The film is entertaining and played for laughs but never soft. These are horrible people. We of course know there not going to get away with it, but if we didn't I think most audiences would be willing them to fail. The film's drawback is that the mechanics of the heist aren't that exciting or visual stimulating. The film is stronger in the aftermath, as the group fall out. The investigating police force are kept as an almost voiceless presence, lurking unnoticed around them while they gab and carp themselves into their prison cells. The film's use of nostalgia is to intercut them with shots of 60s London crime dramas and the actors earlier, iconic, incarnation. In a very sly, unforced way it's a timely statement about our national self image, our need to harp back longingly to things that should be left alone and glorify people who lack glory.
