Topkapi (1964)

I probably should have prefaced yesterday's fairly positive review of Brett Ratner's After the Sunset with the following: I'm a huge fan of the heist flick. Who hasn't been stuck in line at a bank or bored in a museum only to find themselves wondering how they could purloin something valuable from the premises – and get away with it? The closest I've ever come was when I forgot to return my baggage claim card at Amsterdam's Rijksmuseum. I'm counting on that card becoming very valuable one day.

There's something fascinating about a genre that positions a thief as the hero of a film. Ethically, you shouldn't root for the protagonist, but the joy of a heist film – and, particularly, a heist film done well – is that it leaves the viewer with a sense of appreciation. You admire the thief for pulling off what is often a remarkably elaborate crime.

For a superior, genre-defining heist comedy, look no further than Jules Dassin's Topkapi, the 1964 adaptation of Eric Ambler's The Light of Day. It is, quite simply, a heist film with everything: a gorgeous setting, a terrific cast, a good dose of humour and most importantly, a great caper.

Peter Ustinov landed an Oscar for his role here as Arthur Simpson, a bumbling small-time shyster, himself unwittingly duped by all and sundry. After Simpson is recruited by a pair of thieves posing as tourists (played by Melina Mercouri and Maximilian Schell) to drive their car across the Turkish border, customs officers discover a hoard of arms hidden in the vehicle's body. Simpson agrees to act as an informant for the Turkish government, who erroneously believe a terrorist act is in the offing, in order to guarantee his release. In the process, he becomes entangled in a scheme to lift a priceless dagger from Istanbul's Topkapi Palace.

That Ustinov's (deserved) Oscar was for Best Supporting Actor is a curiosity, as his clueless swindler is central to Topkapi's plot. Simpson is the most amateur of the amateurs drafted by Schell's Walter Harper to pull off his heist. He remains consistently flustered, even though he is oblivious to being duped and used every step of the way. It's a terrific performance for a role that could have easily been as irritating as it is ultimately endearing.

Ustinov outshines the rest of the cast, ranging from Mercouri's rather simple temptress to Robert Morley's brilliant mechanical genius (who gets one of the picture's best sight gags involving a greasy rag). Schell's dark good looks work in his favour as the smooth Harper, while Akim Tamiroff has a lot of fun as the gang's drunken cook.

Topkapi's overarching story is a simple one, but Dassin revels in the smaller details of the heist. Monja Danischewsky's script gives the viewer obscure glimpses at Harper's plot – such as the scene in which Simpson proves his worth by dragging a couch attached to a length of rope across a room – but leaves the puzzle incomplete until the final act. The purposes of the other members of Harper's motley crew, including an acrobat and a toy-maker, are also tantalisingly, but ambiguously laid out in the lead-up to the main event.

And what an event! Topkapi's hugely entertaining heist sets a high bar for the genre, as the crew split up over two locations in order to pull off the daring theft. It's a nerve-racking sequence, wisely devoid of music. The sound of a rope tightening or a cog turning becomes deafening in a void of silence, greatly heightening the sequence's realism. It's equally gorgeous to look at, with Dassin never neglecting the stunning Istanbul scenery, even during the film's climax (from beginning to end, Topkapi is imbued with that travelogue feel so rare in contemporary cinema).

While I won't spoil the heist itself, it should be noted that Mission: Impossible's oft-parodied scene in which Tom Cruise suspends from wires above a series of motion sensors, actually has its roots here. In fact, Topkapi is said to have inspired the original Mission: Impossible television series.

Forty-five years after its release, Topkapi holds up surprisingly well. The editing in the film's opening sequence shows its age, the first act has some minor pacing issues and the movie's final scene is reminiscent of a dated sitcom, but these are just a few flawed moments. Topkapi is a landmark in the heist genre, as sharp, stunning and unique as the jewelled dagger at the centre of its story.