The Good Thief

Synopsis: Set against the glitzy backdrop of the French Riviera, aging gambler Bob Montagnet is about to gamble it all on the casino heist of a lifetime; a spectatcular sleight of hand--two heists, one real, one not, but which is which? Under the watchful eye of Roger, a policeman who would as soon save his longtime opponent as arrest him, Montagnet assembles a team that consists of partners Paulo and Raoul, technical mastermind Vladimer, former-drug-dealer-turned-informant Said, Anne, a young Eastern girl Montagnet rescued from prostitution, and the perfect complement to a double theft--identical twins Albert and Bertram.
Genre: Action, Crime, Drama
Director(s): Neil Jordan
Production: Fox Searchlight Pictures
  1 win & 1 nomination.
Rotten Tomatoes:
109 min

What's up

- I come to sit in.

You gonna help me

with my losing streak?

- It's not possible, Bob.

- Maybe not, but you could

give me the illusion.

The illusion.

I've got plenty of that.

So how much does

illusion cost?

- The usual.

- Got a prime here, Said. Should I stick with it?

- What's a prime?

- Special number. Divisible by itself and one.

- You're a mathematician, Bob?

- Yeah. Chaos theory.

- How much? I don't know.

- Two hundred?

- Want to gamble?

- You'd only lose.

- You spyin' on me, kid?

- No.

- I work here.

- Since when?

- Since last week.

- You're too young to work here.

- That's not what Remi says.

- Oh, I'm sure it's not.

Besides, you're too old

to do that.

You're right.

We're both lost souls.

- What age are you, kid?

- Seventeen.


Well, what do you know? A prime.

What's a prime?

Special number, divisible

by one and itself.

Strange thing about primes is,

the further you get from ze--

- Hey, kid. Hey. Hey.

- Hmm?

Will you shut that door

for me, please?

- Lesson over?

- For now.

He said he's taking you with him.

If he lets you book him...

they'll deport him

to Algeria.

And he'd last two days.

He might as well die here as there.

He's gonna count to three.

If they don't drop those guns...

- he's gonna blow your head off.

He said,

"One. Two. Three.!"

You know, I swore

I'd never share a needle.

- Why'd you do it?

- I thought you'd put a word in for him.

- Keep him in France. What would he get?

- Possession with intent.

- Five years.

- And for murdering a police officer?

- Throw away the key.

- There you go. That's why.

- You didn't do it for me, then, huh?

- You? F*** you.

You're my worst nightmare. My bad angel.

How many times have you booked me?

I forget. But once more

and they throw away your key.

- Don't let it happen.

- Thanks for the lesson, schoolteacher.

I'm clean.

You try a new scam, Bob, it won't be me.

The whole system will flatten you.

I've retired. I'm a junkie gambler now.

A big loser. That's all.

- Name the best thief that ever lived.

- Bob?

No. Pablo Picasso.

The cat stole from everybody: Rubens,

Delacroix, Czanne, Van Gogh, Matisse.

- Never got caught. I met him once.

- I'm impressed.

A bullfight.

I bet on the bull, he bet on the matador.

The matador got 26 stitches.

I got a painting.

- Still have it.

- Then you're flush!

No, no, no. I'm broke.

That never sells.

"Portrait of Jacqueline."

Looked like her.

Just in from Moscow, huh?

Why don't you arrest her now?

Get it over with.

- Get what over with?

- The whole dreary cycle.

She'll work the streets.

For her troubles, she'll end up in the river

with a needle in her arm.

- Go on, be a good cop.

- All I see is a girl on a motorbike.

Frisk them.

You'll find a passport.

- There's a thing called the law.

I don't see it being broken.

- Use your imagination.

You're looking for

a replacement for Lydia?

- Stick to your cards, Bob.

- Who's Lydia?

Lydia's in the hospital.

She's been there quite a while.

- I said, stick to your game, okay?

- Yes, my game.

Problem with my game is

luck can fall both ways.

Whereas, with your game,

luck doesn't enter into it.

What's his game,

Monsieur Bob?

It's as old as mine,

but he plays with girls from the sticks...

and the odds are

all his his favor.

- I haven't had a hand like that since...

- What? Since when?

- You f***ing loser.

- Bosnia.

- I don't need a guardian.

- No?

- Maybe you do.

So, is that

just bad makeup?

Oh, you got a thing

about eyes.

Only when they're lucky.

So you protect the honor

of widows and orphans, huh?

Oh, you're not backward

for your age.

Night school.

He wasn't my pimp.

Oh, no? So what was he doing

with your passport?

- Okay. Five hundred on the corner pocket.

- Sure, Bob.

- Why do you call me Bob?

- Because you try to imitate him.

- Imitate that.

- Yvonne, turn that sh*t off

and give us some french fries.

Paulo, Raoul.


- You want to shoot some pool?

- Not now. She looks hungry.

Oh, let me show her

to a table.

- Smoking or not?

- Smoking.

Your dinner date is old

enough to be your father.

- You should try someone younger.

- I just left someone younger.

- Oh, why?

- He didn't live up to my ideal of manhood.

- But you haven't met me.

Do you always sleep alone?

- Nearly always.

When she's not hanging out

at 5:
00 in the morning eating french fries.

- With mayonnaise.

- Are you from Bosnia?

- So that's what it's called now.

- What brought you here?


- 10:
00. We're supposed to be at the bodega.

- Yeah.

- See you again.

- Why not?

Don't go giving that

to strange men.

You arranged that fight so you could

pick his pocket? You're a clever guy.

I'm a knight in shining armor.

- Yvonne, the bill.

- 38 francs.

- What are we doing?

- We? It's late.

- Bedtime.

- Your place?

- Have you any dough on you?

- Loads. Thirty francs.

Thirty francs? Here, kid. For your hotel.

Good night, kid.

I say red, darling.

- What do you say?


- Hey, you!

- Where are you going with that suitcase?

- You had enough?

- The owner of my hotel

has ridiculous principles.

She always wants paying.

The people you owe money to

have always got ridiculous principles.

What happened to the money

I gave you?

- Paid my debts. I owe Remi.

- What debts?

Oh, I'm sure you do.

I won't ask what for.

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Auguste Le Breton

Auguste Le Breton (born Auguste Monfort 18 February 1913 – 31 May 1999) was a French novelist who wrote primarily about the criminal underworld. His novels were adapted into several notable films of the 1950s, such as Rififi, Razzia sur la chnouf, Le rouge est mis and Le clan des siciliens. He wrote the dialogue for the noir film Bob le flambeur. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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