Martine offers Terry a lead on a foolproof bank hit on London's Baker Street. She targets a roomful of safe deposit boxes worth millions in cash and jewelry. But Terry and his crew don't realize the boxes also contain a treasure trove of dirty secrets - secrets that will thrust them into a deadly web of corruption and illicit scandal.
When his mentor is taken captive by a disgraced Arab sheik, a killer-for-hire is forced into action. His mlission: kill three members of Britain's elite Special Air Service responsible for the death of his sons.
Mei, a young girl whose memory holds a priceless numerical code, finds herself pursued by the Triads, the Russian mob, and corrupt NYC cops. Coming to her aid is an ex-cage fighter whose life was destroyed by the gangsters on Mei's trail.
A thief with a unique code of professional ethics is double-crossed by his crew and left for dead. Assuming a new disguise and forming an unlikely alliance with a woman on the inside, he looks to hijack the score of the crew's latest heist.
Frank Martin puts the driving gloves on to deliver Valentina, the kidnapped daughter of a Ukrainian government official, from Marseilles to Odessa on the Black Sea. En route, he has to contend with thugs who want to intercept Valentina's safe delivery and not let his personal feelings get in the way of his dangerous objective.
Business is slow for Terry Leather, a London car dealer, married with children. He's an artful dodger, so Martine, a former model with a thing for him, brings him her scheme: a bank's alarm is off for a couple weeks, so let's tunnel into the vault. He assembles a team, not realizing her real goal is a safe-deposit box with compromising photos of a royal: she needs the photos to trade for avoiding a jail sentence - and MI-5, or is it MI-6, is pulling the strings two steps removed. A Trinidadian thug, a high-end bordello owner, and a pornographer also have things stored in the vault, so the break-in threatens many a powerful personage. Is there any way these amateurs can pull it off?Written by
Aldwych station was chosen to film the underground scenes because the true Tottenham Court Road station had been modified extensively in the early 1980s. Only Edgware Road still has any resemblance to its original look. See more »
Martine's coat goes from buttoned to unbuttoned several times while she and the other robbers are talking in the warehouse just after the robbery. See more »
[while drilling a mileage meter back]
Another Terry Leather low mileage gem.
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Disclaimer: "The names of many people identified in this film have been changed to protect the guilty." See more »
As caper flicks go, all I really hope for is something that succeeds in being both novel and entertaining. My hopes were satisfied by The Bank Job. The plot itself is based very loosely on events that occurred in the 1970s in London. The royal family has some dark secrets. An outspoken activist/petty criminal/drug importer has evidence of these secrets, which he uses as leverage against the government who desperately wants to prosecute him. This evidence is stored in a safety deposit box within a London bank. British Intelligence conjures up a rather reckless plan of employing a bunch of two-bit/amateur criminals to break into the vault, and take the evidence along with whatever else they can carry out. Apart from one intermediary, none of the robbers know the government's secret agenda. Of course, things get complicated whenever the possibility that a bunch of dirty secrets are in the wrong hands, and eventually the movie juggles several interconnecting plot lines, all related to the contents of the vault and their implication on various interests from the royal family, to corrupt police, to the sexual indiscretions of parliament members.
The movie keeps a good pace and never takes itself too seriously. It builds up the plot lines and tries somewhat successfully to tie everything together. There is some good tension, a bit of violence (not much), and eventually, vindication for most of the parties.
The problems with the movie are numerous, but nothing that ultimately destroys the fun. Yes the movie is rife with inexplicably, unnecessary side characters (see female undercover agent in the Caribbean). Yes the movie's dialogue veers into indecipherable 1970s British slang, which gives a comedic undertone to conversations that are intended to be serious. Yes there exist rampant plot issues that make you wonder how stupid cops really are. And yes the acting is OK, at best, lets face it Jason Stracham is meant for British caper movies the way Keanu Reeves is meant to play a clueless surfer cop in Point Break - so while he's not winning any Academies, he fits these rolls just fine.
You could wait for the DVD, or if you are looking for a fun way to kill 2 hours, you should go to the theater for this one.
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