Celebrating Films of the 1960s & 1970s
"WE WANT OUR DVD!": "THE BURGLARS" (1972) STARRING JEAN-PAUL BELMONDO, OMAR SHARIF AND DYAN CANNON
BY
FRED BLOSSER from Cinema Retro
A particular kind of film was popular in, and
almost unique to, the 1970s. I would call them “A-minus” movies. Not
quite “A” because they didn’t feature trendy mega-stars like Newman, Redford,
McQueen, Eastwood, Streisand, or Beatty, but not quite “B” either. Typically,
they were international packages that starred a mix of American actors who,
although past the peak of their popularity, still retained some marquee appeal
for older moviegoers, and European actors who would draw overseas
audiences. They usually were built around B-movie crime, spy, and thriller
stories, but bigger-budgeted and more sophisticated than the standard “B,” and
filmed on European locations, not a studio backlot in Culver City.
Henri Verneuil’s “Le Casse” (1971),” released in
the States by Columbia Pictures in 1972 as “The Burglars,” exemplifies the
genre -- French director; on-location filming in Greece; score by Ennio
Morricone; the names of Jean-Paul Belmondo, Omar Sharif, and Dyan Cannon above
the title; an able supporting cast of Robert Hossein (“Les Uns et Les Autres”),
Renato Salvatori (“Luna”), and Nicole Calfan (“Borsalino”); and a script by
Verneuil and Vahé Katcha based on
David Goodis’ 1953 paperback crime noir, “The Burglar.”
Verneuil had recently aced a big hit in Europe
and a modest hit in the U.S. with “Le Clan des Siciliens” (1969), also known as
“The Sicilian Clan.” “The Sicilian Clan” is relatively easy to find in a sharp
print on home video and TV (there was a 2007 Region 2 DVD, a 2014 Region 2
Blu-ray, and periodic airings on Fox Movie Channel). Unfortunately for A-minus
aficionados, “The Burglars” is more elusive in a really good, English-language
video print.
Professional thief Azad (Belmondo) and his
partners (Hossein, Salvatori, and Calfan) have cased a villa in Athens whose
jet-setting owners are away on vacation. A safe in the house holds a million
dollars in emeralds. The thieves break into the house, crack the safe, and make
off with the jewels, but two glitches arise. First, a police detective,
Zacharias (Sharif), spots the burglars’ car in front of the villa. Azad chats
with the detective and spins a cover story of being a salesman with engine
trouble. Zacharias leaves, but it seems like too easy an out for the thieves.
Next, the plan to flee Greece immediately on a
merchant ship falls through. The gang arrives at the dock and finds the ship
undergoing repairs: “Storm damage. It will be ready to sail in five days.” They
stash the money, split up, and agree to wait out the delay. Zacharias
reappears, playing cat-and-mouse with the burglars. He’s found the opportunity
to cash out big. Offered a meager reward by the billionaire owner of the jewels
and “10 percent of the value” by the insurance company, he decides he’ll do
better by finding and keeping the emeralds himself. In the meantime, Azad meets
and romances Lena, a vacationing centerfold model (Cannon), whose role in the
story turns out to be more relevant than it first seems.
Goodis’ novel was filmed once before as “The
Burglar” (1957), a modestly budgeted, black-and-white programmer with Dan
Duryea, Jayne Mansfield, and Martha Vickers, directed by Paul Wendkos. The
script by Goodis himself, the photography in gritty Philadelphia and Atlantic
City, Duryea’s hangdog performance, and Mansfield’s surprisingly vulnerable
acting faithfully captured the bleak spirit of the novel.
Retooling the story as a shinier A-minus,
Verneuil made significant changes. Duryea’s character, Nat Harbin, runs ragged
trying to keep his fractious gang together and protect his ward Gladden, the
young female member of the team, whose father had been Harbin’s own mentor.
Verneuil tailors the corresponding character Azad to Belmondo’s exuberant,
athletic personality and changes the dynamic between Azad and Helene, Calfan’s
character. Where Gladden is brooding and troubled, Helene seems to be
well-adjusted if somewhat flighty. When Nat realizes that he loves Gladden, it
comes too late to save their doomed relationship. Azad and Helene find a
happier resolution. The opportunistic cop in the novel and earlier movie,
Charley, has little interaction with Harbin, but Belmondo and Sharif share
ample screen time and charm as the two equally wily antagonists. Their final
showdown in a grain-storage warehouse brings to mind, of all classic movie
references, the climactic scene in Carl Dreyer’s “Vampyr” (1932).
Updating the technical details of the story,
Verneuil turns the safecracking into a lengthy scene in which Azad uses a
high-tech, punch-card gizmo to visually scan the scan the safe’s inner workings
and manufacture a key that will open it. Roger Greenspun’s June 15, 1972,
review in “The New York Times” took a dim view of Verneuil’s meticulous,
step-by-step depiction: “Such a machine might excite the envy of James Bond's
armorer, or the delight of Rube Goldberg. But what it does for Henri Verneuil
is to fill up a great deal of film time with a device rather than with an
action.” In fact, Verneuil was simply paying homage to similar, documentarian
scenes in John Huston’s “The Asphalt Jungle” (1949) and Jules Dassin’s “Rififi”
(1955) -- incidentally, one of Robert Hossein’s early films -- and at the same
time avoiding repetition by employing the kind of Space Age gadget that
fascinated 007 fans in the early ‘70s.
Greenspun also objected to “an endless (and
pointless) car chase,” but the chase, choreographed by Rémy Julienne, isn’t
exactly pointless: it adds an overlay of menace to the second, verbally cordial
meeting of Azad and Zacharias. Besides, in the era of “Bullitt” (1968) and “The
French Connection” (1971), a car chase in a crime film was good box office, as
Verneuil certainly knew. The chase isn’t shot and edited as electrically as the
ones staged by Bill Hickman for Peter Yates and William Friedkin, but it’s
easily as entertaining as Julienne’s stunts for the Bond films.
Ennio Morricone’s eclectic score includes a
jazzy, Europop-inflected title tune; dreamy easy-listening background music in
the hotel cafe where Azad and Lena meet cute; sultry music in a sex club where
Morricone seems to be channeling Mancini and Bachrach; and airy, Manos
Hatzidakis-style string music in a Greek restaurant where Azad and Zacharias
meet. It’s an inventive score, but not as well known as some of Morricone’s
others, perhaps because it borrows so freely (with an affectionate wink and a
nod) from his contemporaries.
There are a couple of versions of “The Burglars”
as the French-language “Le Casse” on YouTube, only one of them letterboxed, and
neither with English subtitles. Web sources indicate that Sony released the
German-language version of the film, “Der Coup,” for the German DVD market in
2011; some say it includes English subtitles, others say it doesn’t. There was
a letterboxed Alfa Digital edition of “The Burglars” in 2007 for the
collectors’ market, and a letterboxed print occasionally runs on Turner Classic
Movies. Those are probably the best bets for an English-track, properly
widescreen (2:35-1) print, although in both cases the colors are muddy, dulling
the bright cinematography by Claude Renoir that I remember seeing on the big
screen in 1972.
Belmondo, Sharif, and Cannon probably have little
name recognition among younger viewers today, and a scene in which Azad slaps
Lena around, activating a clapper that cuts the lights in Lena’s apartment and
then turns them back on with each slap, would never be included in a modern
film. On the other hand, the mixture of crime, car chase, and romance might
pique the interest of today’s “Fast & Furious” fans. In fact, with some
rewriting (and further separation from Goodis’ noir universe), it could easily
be remade as a future installment in the franchise, with Belmondo’s Azad
repositioned as Vin Diesel’s Dom Toretto, and Sharif’s Zacharias rewritten and
softened as Dwayne Johnson’s Agent Luke Hobbs.
It’s heartening that Sony Pictures Home
Entertainment has begun to move older Columbia genre releases from its vaults
to DVD and cable TV, often in first-rate condition. For example, a pristine
print of “Thunder on the Border” (1966) ran recently on GetTV, Sony’s cable
outlet for the Columbia vault. As another example, “Hurricane Island” (1951)
has aired on Turner Classic Movies in perfectly transferred or restored
Supercinecolor. It would be nice to see Sony offer a comparably refurbished
print of “The Burglars” on American Blu-ray. If nothing else, the movie’s 45th
Anniversary is only a year and a half away.
Posted by Cinema Retro in DVD/Streaming
Video Reviews & News on Saturday, July
19. 2014
3 comments:
I saw this not so long ago, when TCM aired it. It's just as you say--not a brainy film, certainly not anywhere near as faithful as the earlier adaption of the Goodis book (and not pretending to be, either--honestly, why did they even need the Goodis book to tell this story?).
Very entertaining, but what really stands out is Belmondo's stuntwork. Maybe it's not edited as well as Bullitt's car chase, but the chase in this film, for me, is far superior, because it doesn't NEED editing--Belmondo is actually doing the stunts. They deliberately shoot it in the stye of the old silent comedies with Lloyd and Keaton--with minimal cutting, so you can see no stunt doubles are being used. Jackie Chan must have watched this scene avidly, over and over again.
You see this guy sliding down an almost sheer cliff face, heading towards the camera, with boulders rolling down around him, and you think "Man, I hope that stuntman was okay, they're just about to cut to a close-up of Belmondo"--and they don't cut--because as the stuntman gets closer, you see it IS Belmondo!
How on earth did the insurance company covering this film let him get away with that? Never happen today.
That was one tough Frenchman. Still is, I'm sure.
That first paragraph (the description of an A-minus movie) put me in mind of "11 Harrow House," an early-1970s caper with Charles Grodin in a black turtleneck, Candace Bergen as his beautiful girlfriend, and lots of actors--including James Mason and John Guilgud--on the downslope of their careers. Grodin plans the heist of a huge quantity of diamonds from a fictional company based on De Beers. Complications ensue. An entertaining, largely forgotten movie.
What impressed me was the way Belmondo insisted on letting you see he's doing his own stunts. In the scene where he's dumped out of a truck we see him fall from close-up to long-shot, then the camera picks up down below and we see him finish the fall from long-shot to close-up!
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