The Italian Job (1969)

 ☆ ☆ ☆

The Italian Job (1969) – P. Collinson

Yes, this is the famous heist movie where the gang escapes with the gold bars in three Mini Coopers and the chase scenes where the hapless Italian police chase the Brits in Minis is the reason to see this film.  Before and after the chase, the film is decidedly odd – we watched because it was rated G (in America) but there are some things that are hard to explain to a 9-year-old. Michael Caine takes over the planning for the heist (robbing an armored truck in a crowded city square in Turin, by orchestrating a major traffic jam) after the original plotter is killed by the Mafia – but he needs British gangster Noel Coward’s assistance. My problems began when I had to explain why Coward seemed to run everything even though he is in prison and why the guards let him have special favours (uh, corruption?).  We sort of ignored Caine’s womanising (and Benny Hill’s professor who likes big butts!) but there was no way to explain the film’s bizarre ending (“Is that it?”) other than to say that criminals are not allowed to win in movies of this sort because what sort of message would that send? There was grudging acceptance of this but it didn’t win the movie points overall, some feeble attempts at slapstick comedy notwithstanding.   

 

The Rite (1969)

 ☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Rite (1969) – I. Bergman

Bergman teleplay that sees three actors interviewed by a judge in an unnamed country after obscenity charges are brought against them.  After an initial session with all three (Ingrid Thulin, Anders Ek, and Gunnar Björnstrand), we then see the judge (Erik Hell) interrogate each actor separately; in between these scenes we see the actors in pairs discussing their relationships. Although Björnstrand and Thulin are married, she seems to sleep exclusively with Ek who is in turn married to someone else (but separated). The three are suggested to be internationally famous actors yet each has their own neuroses that facilitate the awkward situation.  It is never quite clear until the end exactly what the obscenity involves (and even then, it seems a bit obscure) nor do we fully understand the motives of the actors in that final scene.  Bergman seems to be suggesting (again) that actors are unfairly persecuted in society and should be free to pursue creative expression even if (or especially when) it is threatening to others’ values – but he also portrays those actors as deeply flawed.  Although brief and admittedly stagebound, the film somehow grips you with the puzzle it slowly pieces together (and never really solves). 

 

The Sicilian Clan (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

The Sicilian Clan (1969) – H. Verneuil

Who could resist the promise of a French heist movie starring Alain Delon, Jean Gabin, and Lino Ventura (with a soundtrack from Ennio Morricone to boot)?  Not me – but alas, the promise only leads to an average genre pic, which is disappointing when you’ve been exposed to the (better) films of Jean-Pierre Melville.  Delon is in his prime as a vicious thief who escapes from a prison van and then plots to rob a travelling jewelry exhibition.  He is aided by the titular Sicilian family, led by Gabin (in pre-Godfather mode).  He is tracked by police commissioner Ventura.  The plot has some twists – yet, somehow it doesn’t feel tight enough.  Director Henri Verneuil lets the suspense drain away or doesn’t build it properly.  Still, there are plenty of classic moments (some might say clichés), such as Ventura trying to quit smoking but struggling due to the stress of the case, Delon almost getting nabbed while visiting a prostitute, Gabin politely and stoically accepting his lot.  Of course, the Thirties was Gabin’s decade (with a great later turn in Touchez Pas au Grisbi in 1954, already the gangster ready for retirement) and Delon (Le Samouraï, 1967; Le Cercle Rouge, 1970) and Ventura (Le Deuxième Souffle, 1966; Army of Shadows, 1969) had better roles for Melville.  But if you are jonesing for this genre, this is certainly more than passable fare. 

Topaz (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆

Topaz (1969) – A. Hitchcock

Is Topaz (1969) Alfred Hitchcock’s worst movie? I suspect there were bad films in his early silent days but this does represent a turn for the worse after so many great films in the previous decades (I’ll have to rewatch Torn Curtain, 1966, soon).  Hitch inexplicably gave the lead, French spy Andre Devereaux, to Frederick Stafford, who comes across rather like a wooden Roger Moore – so all the good acting happens around him (especially in the third act in Paris where Michel Piccoli and Philippe Noiret appear). Leon Uris’s novel may have been foisted upon Hitchcock but Uris himself soon left the project and Hitch and Vertigo writer Samuel Taylor apparently wrote the script on the fly.  Maybe it shows – the film feels very long (with its three acts taking place in America, Cuba, and France) and some of its plot mechanics feel abrupt.  Perhaps that’s because Hitchcock never seems to care much about the MacGuffin (the secrets about the Russian nuclear missiles in Cuba) – as usual, it’s just a device to allow him to build suspense.  However, there isn’t a lot of suspense here.  Perhaps we worry that Devereaux’s contact (and mistress) in Cuba will be caught – but we don’t get much of a chance to know her (and during that time we are dismayed that Devereaux is cheating on his wife, spoiling his good guy image).  Perhaps we are invested in finding out who Columbine is (the French diplomat working for the Russians) but it takes a long time to get to Paris and the possible suspects aren’t introduced until that third act.  Nevertheless, this is still Hitchcock and he is still a masterful director.  Just watching how he sets up his shots, edits efficiently to provide maximum information to the viewer, and, of course, dazzles with some trick shots (Karin Dor collapsing into her purple dress) is worth the price of admission.  Just don’t expect anything on par with Vertigo, Rear Window, Notorious, Psycho, or even Marnie (1964).

Goyokin (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Goyokin (1969) – H. Gosha

Tatsuya Nakadai (probably best known for Kagemusha and Ran but also in Harakiri, Yojimbo, The Human Condition, When A Woman Ascends the Stairs, and Samurai Rebellion, among many others) stars as a ronin samurai who has left his clan because they were involved in the massacre of innocent farmers, as part of a nefarious plot to steal gold from the shogun.  Nakadai’s character has felt terrible guilt in the three years since, because he never turned in the villains or challenged them.  His honour gone, he is about to sell his sword when he hears that his clan, led by Tetsurô Tanba is about to try the same plan again, with another village doomed to be wiped out to cover up the theft of more gold.  So, Nakadai makes his way slowly and steadily to the scene of the battle to make up for his mistake.  Naturally, in true chambara style, the film will end in a duel between Nakadai and Tanba.  However, the inexorable nature of the plot still leaves room for some great scenes (Nakadai besieged in a two-story shack that is eventually set on fire) and some excellent widescreen vistas (waves crashing on rocks, samurai against the sunset).  Perhaps not the greatest of samurai films, but enjoyable for fans of the genre or Nakadai.

Age of Consent (1969)

☆ ☆ ☆ ½

Age of Consent (1969) – M. Powell

Director Michael Powell’s final film follows on the heels of his previous Australian venture (They’re a Weird Mob, 1966) moving from Sydney up to Brisbane and North Queensland. It stars James Mason (with tenuous accent) as an Australian painter who leaves New York to return to his roots on a remote tropical island near the Great Barrier Reef.  Although he’s burnt out, the relaxed environment starts to bring back his creative streak.  A cheeky teenager (played by young Helen Mirren) soon becomes his muse; Mirren spends a lot of the movie in a state of undress as a result.  This is a bit jarring if you only know her from Prime Suspect and her late career superstardom (possibly Calendar Girls, 2006, which I haven’t seen, brings things full circle).  Similarly to Weird Mob, there’s a bit of comic relief here as well, poking fun at Aussie stereotypes and slang, when Mason’s insufferable friend Nat Kelly (Jack MacGowran) comes to visit and gets into trouble.  But overall the tone is laid back, as if the gentle rhythm of the waves was setting the pace of the picture. Plenty of shots of the lush locations and underwater photography of the reef do not disappoint. Mason ultimately gets his mojo back, although the May-September romance that eventuates does have an ick factor. The paintings on display don’t strike me as particularly notable but an early shot of a Sidney Nolan artbook suggests that Powell does have better taste.  It’s a shame (after his masterworks with Pressburger) that his career ground completely to a halt after this, due to lack of funding, aged 64.  

Putney Swope (1969)

☆ ☆ ½

Putney Swope (1969) – R. Downey (Sr.)

Clever in its concept with the potential to really scathingly satirize Madison Avenue (when the only Black ad exec is made chairman of the board and takes things in an increasingly militant and confrontational direction) but then what? Fluxus or dada or did the film just plain fall apart?  A comedy of sorts and there are some good shots (in the 1969 context) at the white power elite when the tables are turned – but mostly this is a chaotic low-budget, often silly, sometimes pointless or tactless affair.  From the mind of Robert Downey Sr. which may be revealing of something.  I wanted to like it.