AnthonyMcDonald-Dublin

Classic American Noir crime caper directed by Stanley Kubrick about the $2 million robbery of a Racetrack with a cast of brilliant character actors who have the kinda faces that even through the screen can scare the life out of you.

Sterling Hayden (Johnny Clay) leads the gang with Elisha Cook Jr (Peatty) his moll Marie Windsor (Sherry) can flip him any way she wants.

Jay C. Flippen (Unger) and Timothy Carey (Arcane) Joe Sawyer (Mike O'Reilly) Coleen Gray (Fay) as the Dame and corrupt police officer (Ted de Corsia) Randy Kennan round out the crew.

It's an inside man caper with (Peatty) as that man.

Vince Edwards (Cannon) and Sherry are planning to dip into the payoff from the robbery.

The faces of the characters, from Cook's pleading eyes, Flipen's beaten face, Clay's desperate last chance stare, Kennan's lying eyes, Sherry's twisted mouth Kubrick's casting director picked them well.

If you like your movie history, so many heist movies use The Killing template.

It's 80 minutes of fast paced enjoyment. We know tragedy will be our gang's fate but who will turn first? Who's the weak link?

When Act 3 comes the heat turns up with the smallest interruption of the carefully timed plan. And here Kubrick surprises us by jumping from one character's narrative in a circular fashion.

It's pure genius and ensures the viewer is even more engaged.

Ok Johnny gets away with the loot. But waiting for him in the gang's lair is Cannon but he goads Peatty who draws a gun and kills his wife's lover. In the shootout all bar Peatty died.

Now the finale. The money bag. Another something that gets out of control.

Gone. Gone With The Wind.

Brilliant.

A lively and thoroughly British comedy caper, this film delivers its laughs with brisk pacing and a cheeky charm. The story wastes no time dropping us into the chaos, keeping the momentum high so that the audience is often swept along without much chance to pause and reflect on where it might all be going. At the heart of it are three unlikely heroes: Orlando Bloom as Marlon, Nick Mohan as Hugh, and Bryce Dallas Howard as Kat. The trio play aspiring actors who suddenly find themselves thrust into the world of undercover policing, reporting to Sean Bean's wonderfully shady Billings, a bent copper from the north who has his own dubious agenda.

The setup is a classic fish-out-of-water conceit, and it leans heavily into the absurdity of placing naïve performers in the shoes of hardened detectives. Their "acting skills" quickly become their most useful tools, helping them improvise through dangerous encounters with criminals who are far more ruthless than they are. Much of the film's humor stems from these impossible scenarios, where the trio's theatrical instincts prove surprisingly effective in keeping them alive.

The supporting cast brings additional weight and wit. Paddy Considine's Fly is a reluctant criminal who oscillates between menace and sympathy, giving the story a bit more grit beneath its comedy. Ian McShane, always magnetic, dominates as the kingpin Metcalfe, exuding power and menace while serving as the film's most formidable obstacle. These performances ground the sillier antics, preventing the film from tipping into parody and instead keeping it in that sweet spot of heightened but believable comedy.

Structurally, it follows the familiar beats of three-act storytelling: the bumbling introduction, the escalation into increasingly dire circumstances, and the climactic showdown where all pretense is dropped and the stakes feel real. What keeps it engaging isn't originality-because the story is well-worn-but the energy of the performances and the likability of the central trio. The script peppers them with sharp one-liners and amusing exchanges, making it easy for the audience to root for them despite their obvious ineptitude.

It's not aiming for depth or reinvention, and it doesn't need to. Instead, it thrives as a breezy, 90-minute romp that delivers what it promises: laughs, charm, and just enough tension to keep viewers invested. While it may not linger long in the memory, it's an enjoyable piece of British comedy filmmaking that knows exactly what it is and has fun with it.

Ed. G married (Prof. Richard) is a bachelor for the summer. With friends, they muse on 'what if'; the lawyer amongst them says events can spiral from a small moment of weakness. Richard leaves, and at once, a beautiful woman, Joan Burnett (Alice), takes his imagination into temptation. A vision becomes reality. He's in a place we're told that we will always regret.

It's a wonderful excursion for both men and women; we can dream too.

But it goes wrong, terribly wrong. Murderously wrong.

Now it's all about pacing, telling us enough to keep us guessing, keeping us changing our minds. Is Alice in charge? Did she plan the whole thing? There's something not quite right about her.

Richard disposes of the corpse, and they part, hoping never to meet again.

But they are hooked together.

The corpse had someone following him-a nasty person who turns into a blackmailer. Now what can go wrong will go wrong.

It's a descending sequence of events that Richard loses more and more control of. The dead man is a 'someone,' a person whose disappearance will create more complications.

Now Ed G.'s brilliance shines, his uncanny ability to portray a man in crisis. He was never even nominated for an Oscar-yes, incredible.

Now that lawyer (Frank) is played by the inscrutable Raymond Massey. We now have a game of cat and mouse between Richard and Frank.

Robinson vs. Massey, two heavyweights of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and Fritz Lang directing.

Oh, that blackmailer-he's played by (Heidt) Dan Duryea, one of the screen's all-time bad guys.

Frank is tasked with the investigation and, on a whim, asks Richard for assistance, who incriminates himself with some casual remarks.

And we're in the last act. Alice tries to buy off the blackmailer, fails, he exits into dust. Richard decides it's the best way out too. Then we have the twist.

Great way to end it.