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    [ t h e   i p c r e s s   f i l e : m o v i e  r e v i e w ]

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      'No leading man had worn glasses in a film.
      People said he can't cook they'll think he's gay,
      he can't wear glasses they'll think he's a sissy.'

                      - Caine on his part in The Ipcress File

    So there you have it. From the horse's mouth. And Caine was right. This is the movie where he made wearing black-rimmed national health style glasses and an ability for a bloke to cook (unheard of in male civilization up to that point) sexy and cool. But hold on a sec: that means that he must take at least partial responsibility for the advent of cooks hogging the TV airwaves. And if that it correct then the buck must stop with Caine for the creation of that professional cockney, the abhorrent Jamie 'Sainsburys' Oliver and his equally abhorrent RADA trained 'friends'!

    Is this heinous crime forgiveable? Is The Ipcress File a great enough movie to forgive him for unleashing the never ending attacks of Jamie Oliver this and Jamie Oliver that on our front rooms via our TV boxes? Well yes because a) you can always turn over (but then that other cookery prick Gorden Ramsay will no doubt be appearing in his newest, bestest series, yelling at another Gordon Ramsay wannabee chef to "fuck off" for the 100th time when he should be doing us all a favour and saying it to a mirror), and b) more importantly, it's yet another brilliant movie in the Caine canon.

    Len Deighton's first spy novel had everything except a name for its off-the-peg hero, so producer Harry Saltzman decided on Harry Palmer and cast the virtually unknown Michael Caine in this adaptation. Designed as a counterpart to the Bond movies, which Saltzman also co-produced, the story uncovers KGB operatives in the British Secret Service and enables Caine to talk Bermondsey, wear glasses and cook his own meals, things that Sean Connery would never do. Instead of the Orient Express, it's the Central Line or to use a football anology, instead of Real Madrid you have Arsenal but remember Arsenal do have Thierry Henry.

    It's cunning, calculated and still works, thanks to some droll humour, John Barry's marvellously twangy score, Canadian Sidney J Furie's energetic direction and spot-on performances by Guy Doleman and Nigel Green as bowler-hatted spooks.

    Shot at Pinewood Studios, Furie adopted a style of filmaking that proved hugely influential, shooting fight sequences through telephone boxes or car windows, and using a host of other obscure and gimmicky camera angles.

    So when you next curse Caine for the creation of the Frankenstein-esque monster, chirpy, diamond-geezer, salt-of-the-earth, ruby murry, loveable East Ender, one of the people, Mr Al'rite Matey Jamie Oliver's latest cookery show with accompanying book which translates into shit loads of cash for everyone whose name is Jamie Oliver, remember one thing: waiting for the next Jamie Oliver show (or the shows of the countless other cookery twats, for that matter) is like waiting for a bus: you wait five seconds for one then 4000 turn up at once!

    Whereas there will only ever be one Michael Caine.

  • Ipcress File 2 Dvd Set
  • Ipcress File Special Edition Dvd Set

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