Between the invasions, occupations, famines, Black and Tans and what not, being Britain’s nearest geographical neighbour is not without drawbacks. Which leaves present-day natives three options: we can either (a) become consumed with hatred, (b) grovel, bow, scrape and bootlick Sunday Independent-style before our former colonial masters, wailing for their swift return and attacking David Trimble for not being enough of a Unionist. Or (c) go Strangelove, stop worrying and learn to love them on an ironic level.
Let’s face it, between their universally popular football fans, their beachside manner in Falikari and their decorous hen parties, there’s no shortage of potentially enjoyable foibles. For this reason, there’s many a stand-up Republican who lists such colonial classics as Zulu or The Man Who Would Be King among their bank holiday faves. And where would we be without The Italian Job? Well, watching Escape To Victory, that’s where, but more importantly, what other movie boasts both Noel Coward and Benny Hill in the cast? What other movie makes better comic use of Michael Caine, the Englishman’s Englishman? Sure, there are many who would dismiss the 1969 version as nonsensical capering with a super car chase, but they’re missing out on the delicious subtext. The sun was setting on the empire where the sun never set, and The Italian Job is a great last hurrah for Brittannia; celebrating while simultaneously undercutting the more xenophobic Little-Ingerland values of same – “Just remember”, chirps Caine as Charlie Croker, “over ‘ere they drive on the wrong side of the road”. Quite.
Sad to report then, (as Charlie might put it), that the Yanks have only gone and bloody remade it. Except there’s no cliffhanger ending. And it’s not set in Italy. Oh, and instead of Michael Caine, you have Mark ‘Wahl by name, wall by nature’ Wahlberg. Worse, they’ve teamed him up with Charlize Theron. If you thought that these two specimens were well short in the sexual charisma stakes individually, just wait until you see them together – they light up the screen like a pile of mouldy turnips. Actually, not even.
So, what’s left? Well, some guff about a double-cross, stock character types, a glossy advertisement for Minis (now made by the Germans – cue wry smiles all round) and a big set-piece in LA traffic. Basically, it’s just about enough to keep you intermittantly amused in between handfuls of popcorn and to be fair, that’s more than we could have expected from a film which Ed Norton (who pops up here as Wahlberg’s nemesis) has publically dismissed as total crap which he was contractually obliged to appear in. Truthfully though, there’s nothing to compete with the original’s wonderful Turin car-chase, and you’d frankly be better off renting out the ’69 version on DVD. Alternatively, turn on your TV next British bank holiday (it’s bound to be on) and just lie back and think of England. TB
five/ten