It's amusing how nearly every second of Jules Dassin's Topkapi feels familiar even if you've never seen the movie. To begin with, Dassin was, to some degree, parodying his own grand theft classic Rififi, which came out in 1955. But since Topkapi's release, it has become something of a blueprint for films in the heist genre. From Brian DePalma's explicit references in Mission: Impossible to John Woo's gentle allusions in Once a Thief to Frank Oz's debt of gratitude on The Score, any time a master criminal gets a gang together to steal that which can't possibly be stolen, it's hard not to tip your hat to Topkapi. Even Steven Soderbergh's Ocean's 11 seems to owe as much to Dassin as to the Brat Pack original. Surely all of this idolatry has to mean something.

What it means is that *nobody* stages a robbery set-piece like Dassin. So you can rent Topkapi and sit through over an hour of stale planning and clumsy attempts at humor, but when the film has ended, somehow all of the earlier stuff has faded away and all you remember is the masterful robbery.

The opening credits of Topkapi are shot through an emerald, playing tricks with light and perspective. These tricks of the eye become a visual theme in Dassin's film. The first character we meet calls herself Elizabeth (Melina Mercouri) and she takes us on a tour around a museum in Istanbul, pointing out the treasures of the Turkish Empire, before arriving at a bust of a sultan wearing a dagger in a shoulder holster. The dagger is studded with diamonds, but also contains the four Topkapi emeralds, flawless stones, each priceless. And Elizabeth has a plan to get that dagger.

It starts with the suave Swiss Walter (Maximilian Schell), an ultra-successful robber who insists on only one thing — the job must be done entirely be amateurs, people without police records. The first amateur brought on board is Cedric Page (Robert Morley), a Brit with a love of elaborate toys and an appreciation for complex electrical systems. Page explains that the challenge in getting the dagger comes from the ultra-sensitive alarm keyed to the floor of the museum. Even a ping pong ball is enough to set off the alarm. They set up a plan for circumventing the alarm and for no reason that I fully understood, they decide to smuggle their materials from Greece to Turkey in a fancy convertible. And then, even more confounding, they decide to get a heel to drive the car across. That heal is Arthur Simpson (Peter Ustinov), an academic now living in exile in Greece, offering tours of the local nightlife in desperation.

When Simpson is caught at the border (this early part of the plan is plot-driven rather than heist driven), he's drafted into the service of the Turkish army, who believe that Walter and Elizabeth mean to assassinate local officials. So Simpson goes bumbling undercover and meets the rest of team — strongman Hans and mute acrobat Guilio. And the gang spends a while planning the crime and touring the Turkish attractions. But wouldn't you know it, things get thrown out of synch shortly before the crime, causing Walter to rethink the guns and grenades that were central to his plan. And wouldn't you know it? The reimagined plan is vastly more intellectual, satisfying, and cinematic. Thank heavens.

The first part of the film relies on the talented cast playing broad comic "types." Ustinov snivels and sweats and pleads wonderfully, though how he won an Oscar for this film is a mystery(I'd have given the award that year to any of a half-dozen members of the cast of Dr. Strangelove). Hans is a monosyllabic German and Cedric a foppish Brit. Additional humor comes from Akim Tamiroff (Touch of Evil, the Joe Polito of his generation) as a drunk, undecipherable Turkish cook. Schell mostly plays the straight-man, which is probably for the best, though he has some strange comedic-romantic scenes with Mercouri which are a bit yucky.

Mercouri's a bit of a problem for me here. She was nominated for an Oscar several years earlier in Dassin's Never on Sunday and she would marry Dassin two years after Topkapi. She later became an important figure in Greek politics. However, from this film at least, I'm not really convinced that she can act. She has the kind of brittle elder sex-kitten look usually favored by drag queens and a laugh that could curdle milk. I suspect there will be cries of "age-ism" here, but listening to Mercouri discuss her character's nymphomania was a little nauseating. Additionally, Mercouri's English is subpar and she never really hits her punchlines properly.

I'm not actually sure if I laughed at any of the supposedly charming humor that sets the scene in Topkapi. Fortunately, even if things weren't funny, the film's location shooting in and around Istanbul is quite impressive. Compare Topkapi's use to Turkey to Frank Oz's generic Montreal in The Score or whatever locations Mamet was using in Heist (I've forgotten already). Since the heist genre requires "casing the joint" as one of its central conventions, isn't it always superior to be casing a wonderfully photographed joint in an international locale? Clearly.

Dassin and cinematographer Henri Alekan (who treated Italy well in Roman Holiday) may rely a bit too heavily on predictably exoticized images of bazaars and markets, though the carnival footage is especially effective. The film's twenty minute glorification of greased up Turkish wrestling is both homoerotic and perplexingly out of place unless you can figure out what shiny rolling in the dirt with each other has to do with a robbery. Still, Istanbul is a beautiful city and Topkapi does it justice.

And even when the film stops wasting time and gets to the robbery, Istanbul is more than just a casual backdrop. Clad in matching gray suits, the three thieves (no fair telling you who ends up being involved) must run across the roof of the museum in broad daylight. The mens' suits match the gray slate of the rooftops and Dassin frames every shot to allow for a maximum view of Istanbul's skyline behind them. Amazing! And things are made even more interesting by one character's vertigo, which produces a fun POV shot.

And the crime itself, with one man hanging above the alarmed floor from ropes (as in Mission: Impossible) could be shown as a quintessential example of how editing and sound can create unbearable tension. As he did with the central robbery in Rififi, Dassin cuts all music for the developing theft. All that we get are the sounds of men at complicated work. Every labored gasp or creak from a rope rubbed too hard on a pulley becomes terrifying and a bird flying through the stained glass window could destroy everything. Don't be surprised if you find yourself holding your breath for Topkapi's last half hour.

Certain aspects of Topkapi's early comedic style feel dated and the non-English-speakers in the cast don't add much to the humor. But don't give up on it. It's all about the heist and it's a total winner. I'd give Topkapi 3.5 stars, probably. But I'm feeling generous tonight.

[The DVD contains a trailer and that's about it. The print of the film is decent, but probably could be better.]



Recommended:
Yes

Viewing Format: DVD