“The Killing” (1956)
Stanley Kubrick’s “The Killing” is a masterpiece that birthed numerous tropes still prevalent within the genre. While the premise is simple, focusing on a small crew who meticulously plan a robbery at a racetrack, the narrative jumps around from specific points in time and reverse-engineers the plot, while all building to an ending draws its power from a simple, stunning visual. The approach provides “The Killing” with a forensic feel, but never without Kubrick’s masterful ability to meld both substance and style. The performances are strong, with Sterling Hayden anchoring the film as the gang’s no-nonsense leader, and Elisha Cook Jr. providing the heart as a man desperate to earn the affections of a woman who cares little for the sacrifices he’s making. “The Killing” might not be Kubrick’s most ambitious work, however, it shows that even with the slimmest material, the director’s inventiveness has no shortage of surprises or power.
“Reservoir Dogs” (1992)
Quentin Tarantino’s debut crime drama, “Reservoir Dogs,” is bursting at its edges, with a clever narrative, memorable dialogue, and ruthless brutality, all of which would become his trademarks. While this may be a heist film in nature, the focus is on what happens before and after the botched robbery — the plan and the consequences, not the act. While Tarantino’s affinity for ultraviolence surfaces in “Reservoir Dogs,” it is comparably more modest than his later body of work. Here, he takes the time to develop conflict by walking back and forth between time and varying perspectives to untangle what becomes a blood-drenched saga of crime gone wrong. “Reservoir Dogs” rightfully established Tarantino as a bold voice and visionary, and each frame of this film sees a director with potential making himself heard.
“The Lavender Hill Mob” (1951)
Not every film can say that it gave birth to an entire sub-genre, but the heist comedy, seen since in everything from “To Catch A Thief” to “Bottle Rocket,” didn’t really exist before 1951’s “The Lavender Hill Mob.” One of the very best of the Ealing comedies, it stars Alec Guinness as a timid bank clerk (in a great, Oscar-nominated performance) who comes up with a plan to steal gold bullion from his workplace. Teaming with a group of unlikely crooks (Stanley Holloway, Alfie Bass and the great Sid James), they work out that they can smuggle the bullion to France and melt them down, disguise their loot as souvenirs of the Eiffel Tower. Like a comic take on Kubrick’s “The Killing,” the heist goes off without a hitch, but it all falls apart in the aftermath, as a misunderstanding sees the statues sold as actual souvenirs. It’s strangely gripping — the film was originally conceived as a straight drama — and director Charles Crichton (who at the age of 78 would direct another British heist comedy classic, “A Fish Called Wanda”) had one of the surest comic hands in the business, but what’s impressive is the level of pathos that Guinness and Holloway generate: you will want the group to succeed, and considering it’s a comedy, the ending is deeply moving. Keep your eyes peeled for a young Audrey Hepburn too.
“The Thomas Crown Affair” (1968)
Norman Jewison‘s heist caper/romance hybrid is a dazzling, irresistible slice of ’60s pop escapism, shot through with a subtle undertow of dark cynicism. Steve McQueen is the eponymous anti-hero, a laconic, thrill-seeking millionaire who orchestrates an audacious Boston bank robbery — largely out of boredom. Faye Dunaway is his foil Vicki Anderson — an only-in-in-the-movies insurance investigator via the Milan catwalk and cover of Vogue. All kinds of stylish cat and mouse shenanigans ensue, including the justifiably infamous “erotic” chess contest, which Jewison stages as a baroque, almost psychedelic set-piece. It’s easy to view Crown simply as an orgy of hedonistic wish-fulfillment, and on these terms alone, the movie really pops off the screen. Jewison’s direction is a giddy, propulsive bag of tricks – the editing is brisk, witty, and punchline-orientated, the soundtrack eclectic, and the use of split screen truly gratuitous. Glamor and expensive toys abound. However, this caper is not without a certain darkness — Jewison envisioned Crown as a romance between two empty, narcissistic souls, a “love affair between two shits” — and a certain melancholy creeps in as the pair realize the degree to which they are trapped in their own cynical self-regard. Thomas Crown has wealth and respectability, but he feels a constant need to take risks and buck against the system — an oddly apt, almost autobiographical role for McQueen. John McTiernan’s remake isn’t bad either, but not a patch on Jewison’s original.
“The Hot Rock” (1972)
Penned by two-time Academy Award-winning writer William Goldman (“Butch Cassidy & The Sundance Kid,” “All The President’s Men”) and employing a jazzy, bongo-laden score by Quincy Jones, Peter Yates’ eighth feature-length directorial effort is a product of its era and could be considered a quintessential ‘70s picture insofar as it’s characterized by many touchstones of that period; a laconic, talky rhythm, a dry, comedic wit and a matter-of-factness that typified the decade in American cinema. Starring Robert Redford, the always superb and underrated George Segal, character actors Ron Leibman, Moses Gunn, and comedic legend Zero Mostel, “The Hot Rock” was actually labeled as a comedic caper during its release, but its humor is fairly understated by today’s standards. However, it is undeniable that the film has a loose and breezy tone which makes it effortlessly watchable. Compared to some of these other stone-cold classics, Yates’ picture could seem a little slight here, but it’s perhaps an important low-key template that others would follow; most significantly in Wes Anderson’s “Bottle Rocket” — whether he actively knew it or not.