The Great Train Robbery, 2013.
Created by Chris Chibnall.
Starring Jim Broadbent, Luke Evans, Neil Maskell, Jack Roth and Robert Glenister.
SYNOPSIS:
A two-part television adaption of Britain’s biggest ever heist – the ‘great train robbery’ of 1963.
Having your life adapted for the screen seems to be the kiss of death these days. Shortly after Nelson Mandela’s passing was announced at the premiere screening of Mandela: Long Walk to Freedom, the convicted criminal Ronnie Biggs died just a week before the television dramatisation of his most famous heist. You can’t buy publicity like that.
Biggs, however, doesn’t feature that prominently in The Great Train Robbery. It was his prison escape that really made his name, not his part in the heist itself. Instead, the adaptation pivots upon two men – the robbery’s mastermind Bruce Reynolds (Luke Evans, Fast & Furios 6) and the detective who hunted him down, Tommy Butler (Jim Broadbent, Cloud Atlas). Their stories are given a 90-minute episode each: ‘A Robber’s Tale’ and ‘A Copper’s Tale.’ All three hours of it builds towards their inevitable, and thoroughly engrossing, face-off.
‘A Robber’s Tale’ focuses on Reynolds planning the train heist. The team is picked, the approach decided. It’s like a Grand Theft Auto V mission. They will stop a Royal Mail train with a haul potentially upwards of £1 million. They got away with over double that, equivalent to £46 million today.
The period details are smartly observed. The men wear suits, the women have big, curly hair, and a permanent cloud of cigarette smoke hazes every room. The dialogue is lush, too, especially when delivered straight-faced. “There might be a drink in it for you, Reg.” Drinks are ‘bribes’ and everyone seems to be called ‘Reg’ in those days. It’s pretty cool.
‘A Copper’s Tale’ follows Butler tracking down each of the robbers with an obsessive determination. Broadbent’s voice is deeper than usual, his shoulders hunched from the pressure of the job. Butler earnt the nickname ‘One Day,’ as that’s how long it took him to catch criminals. Over the course of five years, he ‘nicked’ every one of the Great Train Robbery gang.
But both episodes share the same issues. Some shots are toe-curlingly orchestrated, like the slow-motion one of Butler walking to arrest Reynolds, followed by a perfectly lined up parade of police officers. Equally generic is the scene after the robbery, where the gang have the standard ‘what you gonna do with your share?’ conversation. It’s cliche-ridden, inoffensive and incredibly easy to follow – exactly what you would expect of the BBC Christmas Day schedule’s crown jewel (which it was on its initial broadcast).
The crucial flaw, however – and a strange thing for a show based on such an incredible true story – is that The Great Train Robbery has no real characters. They are stereotypes without depth. This is a miniseries obsessed with, and driven by, its plot; not its characters.
Which is perfectly fine. It’s an incredible story. But considering Biggs’ recent funeral, with a cast of criminals in attendance, a motorcade of Hell’s Angels alongside his hearse and a two-fingers flower display, the surface approach of The Great Train Robbery feels like a wasted opportunity.
Oliver Davis is one of Flickering Myth’s co-editors. You can follow him on Twitter @OliDavis.
Originally published January 6, 2014. Updated November 28, 2022.
