Des trains, des chevaux, un duel, des armes qui se chargent et se déchargent, des répliques chocs, des plans d’ensemble, un représentant de la loi immoral, un héros bandit et, surtout, une bande originale d’Ennio pour un thriller policier… Le Casse d’Henri Verneuil est sans doute l’un des plus beaux exemples d’hybridation des genres.

Belmondo, survolté (il offre ici probablement ses plus belles cascades), donne la réplique à l’implacable et charismatique Sharif. Courses-poursuites effrénées dans Athènes, personnages secondaires aussi saisissants que justes : un leçon de divertissement !

Des trains, des chevaux, un duel, des armes qui se chargent et se déchargent, des répliques chocs, des plans d’ensemble, un représentant de la loi immoral, un héros bandit et, surtout, une bande originale d’Ennio pour un thriller policier… Le Casse d’Henri Verneuil est sans doute l’un des plus beaux exemples d’hybridation des genres.

Belmondo, survolté (il offre ici probablement ses plus belles cascades), donne la réplique à l’implacable et charismatique Sharif. Courses-poursuites effrénées dans Athènes, personnages secondaires aussi saisissants que justes : un leçon de divertissement !

For a lot of its (quite, um, generous) runtime, this is one of those amiable, 70s heist films you might have seen on tv on a Sunday afternoon and which you mainly remember for three set pieces. The first, a seriously impressive 10-ish minute car chase through the streets of Athens; the second, some Jackie Chan-esque running along, jumping on, and hanging off of moving vehicles; and third, a scene where Jean-Paul Belmondo is unceremoniously dumped, amid falling rocks, down the side of a rather steep hillside.

All that is well and good, plus there's very carefully and deliberately filmed, and mostly dialogue-free, safecracking, Omar Sharif waxing eloquently about Greek delicacies, and Belmondo's genial grinning and goofing about--at least until he starts slapping Dyan Cannon around and the whole thing gets sour really fast to the point where I, at least, no longer cared about any of it.

For a lot of its (quite, um, generous) runtime, this is one of those amiable, 70s heist films you might have seen on tv on a Sunday afternoon and which you mainly remember for three set pieces. The first, a seriously impressive 10-ish minute car chase through the streets of Athens; the second, some Jackie Chan-esque running along, jumping on, and hanging off of moving vehicles; and third, a scene where Jean-Paul Belmondo is unceremoniously dumped, amid falling rocks, down the side of a rather steep hillside.

All that is well and good, plus there's very carefully and deliberately filmed, and mostly dialogue-free, safecracking, Omar Sharif waxing eloquently about Greek delicacies, and Belmondo's genial grinning and goofing about--at least until he starts slapping Dyan Cannon around and the whole thing gets sour really fast to the point where I, at least, no longer cared about any of it.

Belle moustache Omar

Belle moustache Omar