SVS: “How to Steal a Million”

As regular readers of the blog may know by now, I’m a huge fan of the 1966 rom-com How to Steal a Million. (I am not, however, a fan of the term “rom-com.” In fact, I hate it so much, I almost didn’t use it. But then I realized that said hatred is tied very much to the genre’s more recent …ahem …efforts. And this film is a particularly fine example of the Rom-Com Done Right. So I left it in.)

But I digress (as ever). Back to the task at hand: How to Steal a Million is currently available on NETFLIX WATCH INSTANTLY and AMAZON PRIME and AMAZON INSTANT($) and YOUTUBE($) and SOME OTHERS($).

In this elegant “caper” film, Audrey Hepburn stars as the daughter of a wealthy Parisian (Hugh Griffith), whose hobby is copying famous works of art. His replica of a famed Cellini sculpture is inadvertently displayed in an art museum, and he begins to worry that he’ll lose his reputation once the experts evaluate the statuette. Audrey decides to rob the museum, and hires a burglar (Peter O’Toole) for that purpose. But the burglar is really a detective, who has every intention of arresting Audrey and her father when the deed is done. 

Ground-breaking material, this is not. But what makes it work so wonderfully is the extraordinary chemistry between O’Toole and Hepburn. And Hepburn and Griffith. And Eli Wallach and anyone. In fact, it’s pretty much a textbook example of taking a genre film and elevating it through thespian craft/cinematic style/comedic timing, rather than altering the material or the tried-and-true formula. (That’s not a knock, really. Quit the opposite.)

Does this film feature the finest Meet Cute moment of all time? I’m not saying that….

…but I’m not not saying it.

Does it feature the finest group of comedic mustachios ever? Quite possibly.

You can thank me later.

BONUS TRIVIA THAT I DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE MYSELF UNTIL TODAY (BUT THAT I WON’T ADMIT FOR FEAR THAT IT’LL MAKE ME LOOK UNSERIOUS): The film’s score is charming and adds a great deal to the overall tone and effectiveness of the film. And it’s by someone named Johnny Williams. (Yes, indeed. THAT John Williams. Especially obvious during the “Fanfare And March To The Museum” section. Not sure where the “y” came from, though. I don’t think I’ve ever seen that before.)

Well, it was pitch dark and there he was. Tall, blue eyes, slim, quite good-looking… …in a brutal, mean way, Papa. A terrible man!

Attribution(s): All posters, publicity images, and movie stills are the property of 20th Century Fox and other respective production studios and distributors, and are intended for editorial use only.