Topkapi: I hate to admit it . . . . .
Good day all,
I finally worked the handcuffs free from the bedpost and had a chance to give you all my nuggets of wisdom on a little flick called Topkapi. I was a little bummed, initially, as I thought this would be a Japanese comedy and might include people comically running into/falling off of shit (booyah). Imagine my mug when the lady suggested a European, comedic, heist movie. I have to admit I had some Fellini related flashbacks. My assumption was that we would have two hours of attractive, Italian people, completely clothed, discussing a robbery that they never get around to pulling off. I hate to say it, but I was pleasantly surprised by Ilsa’s intended torture. The humour is solid, the performances great and there is a pretty hot, Greek, nymphomaniac running loose; pretty solid ingredients if you’re cooking a stew baby! There is no direct nudity (sorry to get your hopes up fellas), but there is enough suggestive, sexual humour to thrill the eternal twelve year old within. I don’t want to give too much away, because I certainly recommend this one, so I think I will have to drop my analysis into a new matrix: this movie is, essentially, Oceans 11 in Bizarro universe. I’ll explain.
I want you all to picture George Clooney, got him? Now picture him as an attractive Greek woman (Elizabeth) aged somewhere between 27 and 60, obsessed only with banging strangers and stealing jewels. Brad Pitt is a slightly jealous, German or Swiss man (Walter) that looks like Daniel Day Lewis’ friendlier identical cousin (I smell a sitcom). It is ridonkulous how much this dude looks like The Lewis. Next up is a British fellow (Cedric) that looks like the fat kid from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory grew into the middle aged man we expected he would (spherical and, well, spherical). Next up is the Turkish Charles Bronson (Arthur), except he’s British and Bizarro universe Charles Bronson is a bumbling con artist who would probably shoot himself in the face if tendered a shotgun. Next is a German Bodybuilder that looks like Tor Johnson’s stand-in (Hanz) and a mute, Spanish dude (Julio) that looks like the love child of Ben Stiller and a acrobatically trained chimp. As if that mix isn’t enough, the finishing touch is a drunken Greek that I swear to God is Danny DeVito (he’d be the Julia Roberts of this movie). That, my friends, is a mix for success. The entire heist sequence is really cool, and the acrobatics are awesome (chimp Ben Stiller has some moves). The whole Turkish Secret Police thing is great and the ending will punch you right in the dick. Again, watch this movie.
The only complaint I have on this film, hearkening back to La Dolce Vita as well, is that some of my understandings have been challenged. One of the characteristics my lady/captor loves about me is that I view the world in broad generalizations. Often she will say, “yes, you broad view of things is dead on, now let me please you for being so observant” (or something like that). My point is that Europeans are supposed to be more accepting and open-minded about nudity and sex in film. We are desensitized to violence over here and they are desensitized to smut (I mean look at that Berlusconi pimp). Yet here I am, watching European films by “innovative directors” and a cracker can’t even get a boob or two. The woman acknowledges banging, or wanting to bang, every, single, male character in this movie; as casually as John Rambo might discuss breaking a Commie’s neck, except we get to see the neck break. I’m sure it’s because you’re all suave and sophisticated about sex, EUROPE, and I’m just some pervy, Westerner looking to ogle your ladies, but a man has needs. Don’t talk about steak and hand me a Tofu-dog. I apologize for my outburst there, but Europe and I have a bit of a past. Regardless, this is a funny movie with a great heist sequence and lots of sexy talk with no sexy sex. I suggest you watch it and have a thought for your old buddy the hostage watching something worse than this (she usually follows up a beauty with a dumper, just to see me hurt).
Until I come to from the knock-out drugs again,
The Hostage
K. Harker
stew37
The Errant Cinephile and her Vocal Hostage 