Set in London in 1971, the film follows Terry (Statham), a used car dealer with a dodgy past. At the end of his financial rope, he considers it almost too good to be true when an old friend, Martine (the frighteningly anorexic looking Saffron Burrows, Enigma) shows up with information about a bank vault containing the safety deposit boxes of some of London's most powerful people. Going on the assumption that the powerful and the wealthy have the most to hide and would be less than willing to report any embarrassing or illegal items that were stolen, Terry agrees to take on the job. Of course, Martine fails to mention that she's working with British agents who are interested in retrieving scandalous photos of a member of the Royal family hidden in one of the safety deposit boxes. Terry puts together a ragtag crew of amateur criminals and the robbery goes off with barely a hitch. But as with all things in life that are too good to be true, the consequences of their actions reach further than anyone could have anticipated, enraging not only honest and crooked cops, but several brutal members of London's criminal underworld. Before long, the group's interests turn from getting rich to getting out of their situation alive.

After a clunky opening fifteen minutes that contains some rather tin-eared dialogue, the film finds its groove and settles into an entertaining heist story that's smart, tightly plotted and funny. Veteran director Roger Donaldson keeps the film zipping along at this fast pace and handles the numerous plot twists and shifting allegiances in a smooth, easy to follow manner. It's when the robbery has been completed and the group finds out about Martine's real reason for being involved that the proceedings take an unexpectedly dark turn that results in fatalities for some of the gang. This leads to an overly busy third act that disrupts the polished flow that had been achieved for much of the running time. Events start to feel rushed as Donaldson and screenwriters Dick Clement & Ian La Frenais try to cram in one too many twists and bring in too many dirty cops, underworld criminals and government agents from earlier in the film, all of whom are indistinguishable from each other. But even with this misstep, the film does recover in time for a satisfying ending even though a few loose plot threads are left dangling.

Much of the credit for the film's success belongs to the large cast. For the most part, each performer hits a perfect tone that lends humanity to their characters rarely seen in a heist story. Statham is never going to set the world on fire as a great actor, but he's a charming screen presence who has enough charisma that it's not a chore to follow him through the labyrinthine final act. Standouts in the sprawling cast include Richard Lintern (Cassandra's Dream) who betrays a trace of a heart as an outwardly icy government agent and David Suchet (Live from Baghdad), downright terrifying and creepy as a vicious crime lord. Most of the rest of the cast neatly fill their rather underdeveloped roles with the notable exception of Burrows who is far too passive and vapid to convincingly pull off her would-be femme fatale act.

While the film has its flaws and it occasionally tries to be a little too clever for its own good, it's still an entertaining ride with a likeable cast. With the scarcity of good, old-fashioned heist films in theaters over the last decade, that alone is worth the price of admission.

Matt Wedge is a writer and film critic living in Chicago.